“We’re in this together.”
I nod.Together.That makes it far less intimidating than if I were going in on my own. I ride in quiet silence beside Brody forthe rest of the drive, my hand sweating from nerves. A half hour later, the car pulls in front of an upscale bar and grill.
“We’re just going to see what he has to say,” Brody says as he opens the door. “That’s it. Hecanbe reasonable when he wants to be, and so maybe it’s going to be fine.”
I nod and take Brody’s hand as he helps me out of the car. I chew the inside of my cheek as we pass by the flowers planted along the concrete walkway.
Brody guides me carefully up the steps, my heels clicking against the pavement. Maybe this is what it feels like when you have to walk the plank—right before diving to your death.
“You’re shaking,” Brody leans into me, just before reaching for the door handle. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise. No matter what.”
I peer up at him, forcing a smile. “I sure as hell hope so.”
“That’s my girl.” He winks, and then we step inside.
“Good evening,” the hostess, a young brunette woman, greets us. “Are you dining with Mr. Blake this evening?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brody doesn’t seem surprised that she knows exactly who we are, but I’m left with my brows raised.
So, this is what it’s like to be a part of the upper crust circle.
“Right this way,” the hostess leads us through the dining room back to one of the more private areas. I spot my father at one of the back tables next to the window, overlooking the canal below.
My heart remains in my throat, and my legs start to feel like Jello as we make our way to the table.
Brody pulls out the chair closest to the window for me and then reaches across the table to shake my dad’s hand. “Robert.”
My father, dressed in a dark navy-blue suit, eyes it, and then takes his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Brody.”
My gaze bounces between the two of them, unsure of what to think. I can’t tell if this is just how they always are, or if we’re all really freaking awkward. “Hey,” I say to my dad. “I like the suit.”
He picks up his glass of water and takes a sip, eyeing me. “I like your dress. It’s very…grown up.”
“Well, I am twenty-five years old,” I say, giving him a smile. “I’d say it’s about right for my age.”
“Wasn’t saying it wasn’t,” he shoots back, though there’s still a slight smile on his face. His eyes hold mine just long enough to have me feeling suddenly uncomfortable, but then he turns to Brody.
“What a coincidence that we were all in Charleston, and now we’re all in Savannah.” His tone is polite, but I don’t miss the edge.
And I’m sure Brody doesn’t either.
“It’s a small world. I’ve run into people I know overseas before. It just happens sometimes.”
“Uh-huh,” Dad waves down the waiter, who hurries over to take our order. He orders a bottle of wine and then places an order for a shrimp cocktail for the table. As the waiter walks away, he turns to me. “He’s more your age, don’t you think?”
Fucking hell.
I feel Brody stiffen in his seat, but I keep smiling. “Well, I think he’s actually probably closer to a teenager. Maybe still in college.”
“Still much closer than whateverthisis.” Dad’s hand waves between the two of us, a look of disgust on his face. “I’m still struggling to understand this dynamic.”
“Not every dynamic is easy to understand,” Brody’s answer comes across way more put-together than mine would’ve. “How’s work been, Robert?”
My dad shoots daggers at Brody, but then leans back in his chair, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s going well. I’ve invested in afew new businesses that have a lot of potential. Definitely on the up and up.”
“So, I guess that’s why you’ve been gone so much?” I ask, trying to sound genuine. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Because you haven’t.” His tone is flat. His lips part as if he’s going to say something else, but the waiter appears again, pouring our glasses of wine and setting the appetizer down.
