“Do you want to be?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I don’t want to feel like I’m responsible for keeping them happy when they’re doing something shitty. I never wanted to. I hated it every single time.” Tears press at the backs of my eyes.
“It doesn’t have to happen this week. Or this year. It takes time to implement change.” He picks up my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles. It’s a soft kiss, yet it manages to sear me nonetheless. “Realizing it is the first step. Wanting to is the second.”
I gaze up. Klein knows what I want, and meets me halfway. The kiss is slow, sweet, a gentle pressing of lips.
“Are we still meeting your dad tonight?” he asks when I pull away. “You can say yes. No judgment from me.”
My answering nod is small. “I already told him I would, and it’s almost too late to cancel.”
“Then we’d better get back and get changed.”
CHAPTER 28
Klein
The Beach Clubis an upscale restaurant connected to Nautilus, the hotel where Shane and Sienna will be married. White tablecloths drape over tables, and the mirrored bar reflects the ocean back at us.
Paisley leads the way, weaving through the full dining room. At a table near the back, beside the streak-free glass window, sits a man with his back to us.
If I were waiting for people, I’d sit where I could see them.
“Dad,” Paisley greets, in a voice I’ve never heard before. Kind, but restrained. Polite. Crafted.
He stands when he hears her, depositing his linen napkin on his abandoned seat. “Paisley,” he says, offering a stiff hug.
The difference between the way he hugs his daughter, and the way my mother hugged his daughter, is stark. “Dad, this is Klein. Klein, this is my father, Andrew.”
We shake hands. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, Klein. Interesting name.”
I nod but stay silent. Not much can be said to me about my name that I haven’t already heard. The underwear jokes abounded in school. Kids can be cruel, and when it came to me, they had more than enough material. I would’ve been happy if my name was all they had to make fun of me about, but, well, that’s not the road I walked.
We settle in our seats, Paisley beside her dad at the square table, and me across from him. I’d pictured her dad as a titan, a captain of industry, but he’s a regular guy, aJoe.
Judging a book by its cover is supposedly frowned upon, but I don’t think very many people would take a look at this average-size man with a receding hairline and think it plausible he cheated on Robyn.
Andrew orders a bottle of cabernet for the table without asking if that’s acceptable to anybody else.
“So, Dad,” Paisley says after we’ve ordered appetizers and dinner. “How have you been?”
“Working my fingers to the bone.”
Figurative language, of course. White-collar fingers stay intact and silky smooth.
Paisley leans back in her seat and sips her wine. “How’s Perri?”
“Perri is fine.”
Paisley explains to me, “Perri is my dad’s administrative assistant. She’s been working for him for twenty years.”
“That’s… nice.” Lame, but what else am I supposed to say? Perri deserves a raise, no matter the figure of her current salary?
“Klein, what do you do?”
I’m surprised it took us this long to get to this point in the conversation. Here we go. Before I can say anything, Paisley answers.
