“We realize that now. But at the time, we were terrified. I went to that funeral—Ethan’s funeral—and I walked up to his parents, and I gave my condolences, which are the most empty words you can say. And his dad looked at me and I knew we were both thinking it could have been me accepting the condolences, him giving them. I could see a part of him had died along with his son. And Ethan was their only child, just like you. My soulhurt for them but I was also so incredibly, selfishly grateful to have my boy, to be able to hug him, even if he pushed me away. I would have done anything to keep you safe. I still would. So, yes, we didn’t pay. One of the toughest calls of my life, but then you went clean, so maybe it was the right call. And yes, you might have gotten clean anyway, but you’d broken our trust already at that point.”
“I’m not saying I blame you. I just wish you’d told me. If not at the time, then…”
“I always meant to tell you. I guess the longer you leave these things, the bigger they get and the harder it is.”
Lana gave a little grunt, perhaps thinking of her own situation.
“But then,” his father continued, in a lighter tone, “if we knew you’d be scared so straight you’d get to thirty-four and still be living at home…”
Griffin scoffed. “He loves that I live in his pool house,” he said to Lana, who smiled.
“I actually do, Lana. Most of my friends never see their kids, or their kids hate them. I’m glad we raised him to be so terrified of the big bad wolf that he will never leave the castle.”
“Ever thought of writing a parenting book, Dad?”
As they pulled up outside the private terminal, a light rain was falling. A uniformed attendant opened Lana’s door. As she got out, Peter turned to Griffin. “You’re into this girl,” he said in an undertone.
“How can you possibly tell that?”
“Call it my tremendous paternal instinct.”
“Premature, Dad. Plus, to say she’s going through some stuff is an understatement. Not to mention, it’s doomed before it begins. You know the drill.”
“I do know. Shame though.”
“Yeah.” Griffin patted his father’s shoulder as he got out. “Thanks, Dad.”
On the plane, Lana perched on the seat beside Griffin as if afraid to leave an imprint on the white leather. She declined the attendant’s offer of champagne. Once they were in the air and lunch was served—beef carpaccio and caprese salad—he dismissed the staff, and she relaxed a little.
“Sorry, I could have ordered you something more interesting,” he said. “I have to maintain my weight exactly for the role, so I’m careful with what I eat.”
Lana picked up her silverware. “Don’t apologize. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this—everything.” Even alone with him, she kept her voice hushed.
“We’re in this together—and I have skin in this game now too. Your sister is trying to bring down the same people who preyed on me at the worst time of my life. And there’s Toby Fong. I wanna stop these bastards before they drive someone else to that.” He slowly shook his head. “I can’t believeEstellesent in those goons.”
“Estelle seems like a … complicated person.”
“She has many incredible qualities, but she’s deeply insecure. One of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood, and she doesn’t have a sense of her worth.”
“I found it hard to get a read on her. It’s like she was acting a role.”
“She’s traumatized, I think. She’s had some shit happen to her. She’s a survivor.”
“She said the system smells vulnerability and seeks it out and destroys it.”
Griffin gave a mirthless laugh.
“She mentioned Franklin Ross,” Lana said gently.
“Did she now?”
“Obviously, you don’t need to tell me.”
He shrugged. “You saw that film, right?”
“I did. You were incredible. So … fragile.”
“The role that launched my career. The most critical acclaim I’ve ever had.”
