“More to your life,” he repeats finally. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“Meaning just that. She sees me as more than…a bodyguard. She makes me happy.” Well, I’m certainly not going to say escort, because we’re in a prison and every word I say is likely being listened to.
The words take up residence between us. I’ve never said them out loud before—not to Charlie, not to Forrest, not to anyone. And now I’ve said them to my father, in a prison visitation room, surrounded by vending machines and plastic chairs and the distant murmur of other families having their own difficult conversations.
Maybe I’m more tired than I thought.
But something unexpected happens. My father’s face softens. The analytical edge fades, replaced by, possibly, genuine warmth. His eyes get a little shiny, and he blinks rapidly like he’s fighting back emotion.
“Taio.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “That’s wonderful.”
“You think so?”
“Of course I think so. You’ve been alone for too long. Ever since you dumped Alaina?—”
“She dumped me, Dad,” I correct him.
“Same difference.”
I’m so tired of him rewriting this narrative. “No, it’s not. I bought a ring for her. She left me because you stole her family’s wealth. I just want to be clear.”
He glares at me for a while, angry that I brought up the storyline he hates—the truth. “Well, either way, Alaina was a shit friend. This Charlie girl sounds much better.”
“Based on what?”
“She’s rich for starters. You made a good choice there.” He laughs, but I don’t see the humor in it. “I’m kidding, Taio. Tell me about her,” he continues. “What’s she like?”
I hesitate, waiting for the catch—the manipulation, the angle, the way he’ll twist this information to serve his own purposes. But he just looks at me, expectant and somewhat pensive.
“She’s chaos,” I say finally. “She’s messy and impulsive and she says whatever she’s thinking without filtering it first. She can’t dance to save her life, but she sings like her whole heart is trying to escape through her throat. She’s terrified of being seen and desperate to be known, and she doesn’t realize those are the same thing. She’s this enigma that I can’t stop thinking about.”
Dad’s smiling now—a real smile, not the calculated one he uses in negotiations. “You’ve got it bad, kid.”
“Yeah.” I exhale. “I really do.”
“And does she feel the same way?”
My fingers rake through my hair, catching on the tangles I’ve neglected since yesterday’s flight. “I think so. It’s complicated. Her world is a lot. Paparazzi, publicists, fake relationships for PR. She’s got this whole machinery around her designed to control her image, and I don’t know how I fit into that. Or if I even can.”
“What do you mean, fake relationships?”
“She has a public boyfriend. Some actor. It’s all for show; their teams arranged it to manage their images or whatever. But from the outside, it looks real.” I shake my head. “That’s the world she lives in. Everything is performance. Everything is strategic.”
“And where does that leave you?”
“On the outside, mostly. Hidden. We don’t exactly run in the same social circles. She has her celebrity life and I have my…” I search my brain trying to remember what my dad thinks I do for a living. “Gym trainer buddies?”
My father is quiet for a moment, processing. “That must be difficult. Being with someone who can’t acknowledge you publicly.”
Okay, that was smooth sailing. Apparently he still believes I’m a personal trainer.
“It’s fine.”
“Is it?” He quirks an eyebrow. “Because it sounds like you’re describing exactly the kind of relationship that would make you feel used. Like she’s embarrassed of you.”
The observation slices closer than I’d like. “I don’t think she’s embarrassed of me. And yes, this is messy and complicated, but she’s worth it.More than worth it.”
My father nods slowly. “Then you try. You fight for it. That’s what we do, Taio. What I’ve always taught you. We don’t give up on the things that matter.”
