“Bessie is all grown up.”
“So, she’s of legal drinking age?”
My father lifts his chin. “She’s in her mid-fifties.”
My head jerks back.
He’s dating an adult?
“Don’t look so shocked, son, some women don’t let themselves go after a certain age. It’s a welcome change not tohave to deal with the temper tantrums of girls who haven’t hit twenty-three yet. Thanks to a skilled plastic surgeon, you’d never know Bessie hasthree adult sons. All that work ensures she looks good, hanging from my arm.”
He almost had me convinced he had changed his ways, but no, he’s still the same conceited prick.
“Hold up.” Harley lifts a hand. “Let me get this right.” She narrows her eyes at my father. “You show up at an event with your fifty-something girlfriend-slash-vacay-hookup, but you hit on me?”
My eyebrows shoot to my forehead as I swing my gaze towards my father. I have zero interest in playing this stupid game with him.
My lips flatten. “When is it going to end?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s a shitty actor. “Bessie and I got here not long ago. I spotted you chatting with three guys and noticed you holding hands with this bombshell. When I saw her coming out of the bathroom, I thought I’d introduce myself.”
“Maybe greeting customs are different in Thailand,” Harley says, “but‘You, goddess on legs, are hanging from the wrong Lindström’s arm’sounds more like a come on than an introduction.”
I do a double take. “He said that?”
She nods.
I focus my attention on the man who has my eyes and my fucking suit. Of all the possible choices, he had to dress like me, making it impossible to deny I share DNA with this piss poor excuse of a father.
I stare at him. “Allow me to repeat my question, father, when will it end?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Kazi?—”
“I hate that nickname. Stop using it.”
He lifts his hands. “Hey, we haven’t seen each other in months, no need to be this testy?—”
“Since you figured I had talent on the ice, your modus operandi has been to bring me down a peg––or ten––––and it extends to that idiotic nickname.” I slide my hands in my pants pockets. “You don’t say it out of love or affection. You say it to remind me that you were the big name in hockey before I was even born. You didn’t approach my date in a gesture of politeness. You approached her because you intended on seducing her, like you’ve done with so many other women I’ve dated in the past.”
“Maybe if I had seduced Devlyn, it would’ve saved you from a nasty divorce with that overbearing drama queen,” he says, his expression smug.
Even though he pegged my ex-wife for who she is, I still shoot daggers at him.
“As for your previous comment, it’s not my fault if those women fell in love with me.” He scoffs.
You never take responsibility for shit, condescending fool.
I stick a finger in his face. “You went behind my back and wheedled your way into Shella’s bed because you knew she meant more to me than the other women I had been with.” This is long overdue. I should’ve confronted him years ago instead of brushing the backstabbing under the rug. “Then, you married her. Too bad for you, she turned around and cheated on your sorry ass and ended up pregnant with your personal chef’s twins. Karma is a bitch, ain’t it?”
He narrows his eyes. “So, what, you won a few more Stanley Cups than me––”
“And a gold Olympic medal, during which I was captain and led Team USA to an embarrassing win against Canada. Don’t forget the silver Olympic medal.” I keep on enumerating on my fingers. “I was also Captain when we won. We didn’t beat Russia,but we made it such that Canada had to claim the bronze. And last, but not least, I’m a member of the Triple Gold Club. Only a handful of hockey players will ever be able to claim such an accomplishment.” If he’s going to pull out the sharp knives, so will I.
“You think that makes you better than me? Think again.” His tanned skin turns to the color of an eggplant. “It’s my blood running through your veins.I’mthe one who made you the hockey player you were––”
“In that case, you should’ve been proud of me. You used to push me to excel at the game you loved, and as I was rising up the ranks, you became a foe. From the day the headline‘LINDSTRÖM VERSUS LINDSTRÖM: THE SON IS DESTINED TO SURPASS THE FATHER’made the front page of every sports publication, you made it a pastime to dissect mistakes I made during games to the press.” I stare down at him long and hard. “Only a traitor would do that.”
The rage that was burning in his eyes now flares.
