‘About the toy boy?’ Jason eyed her questioningly. He wasn’t sure it was him who should be defensive on that subject.
‘No.’ Karla shook her head. ‘Although you did act like a bit of a dickhead.’
‘Oh.’ Noting her semi-amused look, Jason laughed uncertainly. ‘Cheers for that.’
‘Well, honestly,’ Karla sighed, ‘coming over all macho and proprietorial like that. I was only dancing with him.’
Jason nodded tightly. ‘I could see that.’
‘There was nothing to be jealous of, Jason.’ Karla blinked at him, astonished. ‘He was aged about two.’
More like twenty-two, thought Jason, though he didn’t bother to correct her. And muscular and not bad-looking – not that he was any judge of what women found attractive in a man. The thing was, he had felt jealous, possibly because, with the problems hanging between them, he and Karla hadn’t been near each other for weeks. The fact that he wasn’t the provider he should be for his family was exacerbating his sense of self-doubt, he guessed. But then, Karla dancing with a man was one thing – she deserved to have a little fun, especially with him being as miserable as sin lately – but her dancing up close and personal with the man? The way he’d been holding her, it had got to him. Looking his wife over, he noted again how good she looked in the short, strappy dress she was wearing. She’d been more effervescent tonight. More like the woman he’d met, laughing easily, relaxed. Letting go on the dance floor was probably good therapy. They should get dressed up and go dancing more often. Except, he’d just as good as sacked the babysitter.
‘So, it’s not me cutting in to extract you from the guy’s arms you’re annoyed about then?’
Karla rolled her eyes; wide, sharp, sparkling-blue eyes, which looked even wider with make-up and mascara. When had she stopped wearing make-up around him? When had he stopped noticing?
‘It’s my father.’ Karla dropped her gaze, her expression tentative when she looked back at him. ‘This thing between you and him.’
Ah.‘Now there’s a surprise.’ Jason felt his hackles rising.
Karla pushed on. Jason really wished she wouldn’t. ‘I know he can seem aggressive and insensitive sometimes—’
‘Seem?’ Jason balked.
‘Has it ever occurred to you that he might be genuinely trying to help?’
Jason quashed an immediate overwhelming anger. ‘What, by telling me I’m a failure?’ He stared at her, incredulous. ‘Constantly reminding me I’m a disappointment? That helps, Karla.Really, it does.’
‘Jason…’ Dragging her long, tousled hair from her face, Karla sighed in despair. ‘The only one who perceives you as a disappointment isyou.’
‘And you’re not disappointed?’ Jason asked, point-blank. ‘Disillusioned with me, with your life, now we’re struggling to make ends meet?’
‘No, I amnot.You need to stop doing this, Jason: blaming yourself, worrying yourself silly, refusing to reach out,’ she went on imploringly. ‘Yes, accepting help might mean that you’re not Superman…’
Like Robert Fenton.
‘…but that’s not something to be ashamed of. There are people who are willing to help you. You have to let go of your own expectations of failure, though, and ask for that help.’
Your father’s expectations, Karla.Jason didn’t bother to say it.
Karla looked at the ceiling. ‘Dad wants to help,’ she said, looking back at him. ‘Why won’t you let him?’
She really hadn’t been listening, had she? He didnotwant to go that route. How many ways could he say it? He might as well be talking to fresh air. Attempting to contain his agitation, Jason searched her face, and was perturbed by what he found there. Had she spoken to him? He narrowed his eyes, his heart dropping as he noted her sudden inability to meet his gaze. She bloody wellhad. Incredulous, he shook his head. She’d gone ahead and discussed her father loaning him money withouttellinghim? In exchange for what? His soul?
So much for trust in a relationship. Smiling cynically, he quelled a rush of hurt and defeat. ‘Why do you rate him so much?’ He studied her, curious – genuinely so. He got that she was his daughter; that her affection for him might make her blind to his flaws, but she must realise some of what he was like.
‘He’s a bully, Karla,’ he growled, his anger getting the better of him, despite his fervent desire not to allow Fenton to do this to him, ‘a womaniser and afuckingsleazebag.’
Folding her arms, Karla blew out a sigh. She still wasn’t looking at him.
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed his hands straying all over the place whenever an attractive woman comes near him?’ Jason went on. He couldn’t help himself. God only knew how her mother put up with him. If he were Diana, he’d take Fenton for what he could and be out of there like a shot.
‘I might have known,’ Karla mumbled eventually, her tone now considerably peeved. She pulled herself away from the kitchen counter.
‘Knownwhat?’ Feeling more than a little pissed off himself, Jason watched her walk to the hall.
Karla stopped, whirling back around to face him. ‘Thatyouwould do this. Anything to try to avoid the real problem.’
