“That’s fucking rich,” I muttered.
“Have you talked to her?”
“No,” I clipped.
There was a long pause. “I guess I can’t blame you . . .”
Tense silence hung between us even though we were 1,500 miles away from each other.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get Greg as much as I got Shep,” I said finally. It still felt foreign to call the man I had always thought of as “dad” by his first name, but I had to make the distinction.
Amber’s silence held out just a little longer. “I’m sorry I held it over your head when I knew and you didn’t. Are we good?”
“No,” I admitted. And it felt good to say that. “We’re not.”
“I figured.”
“But maybe someday.”
Ryan had been right since our first day together when I insisted I hated him. It felt better to know exactly where you stood with someone than pretending like everything was fine.
I hung up and went to the next name on my list. The call rang on and on. Just when I thought it would go to voicemail, a deep voice picked up. “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me. Do you have a second?”
“Of course,” Greg said. “Your mother called me and said that you . . . found out.”
Of course he had time to talk now.
“Are you okay? Where are you? Your mom said you left Manhattan with your boyfriend.”
“We broke up. I’m staying with a friend.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Autumn.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I just . . . I wanted to tell you that I appreciated you being good to me when I’d come stay with you on the weekends. It wasn’t fair to you.”
There was a long sigh on his end. “It wasn’t fair to you either. I was just trying to do what was best for everyone.”
“I really wanted you to be my dad, too,” I croaked. “I hope you know that.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry you lost Shep. And your boyfriend.”
“Thanks.”
The logical thing would have been to tell him I hoped we could have some kind of neutral or positive relationship, even though we weren’t related, but that felt like too much for one day.
“Your marketing campaigns for your books are looking real sharp,” he said out of the blue. “You’re doing good work.”
I blinked in surprise. “You . . . Follow my books?”
“Yes.” The answer was simple and healing. “Give me a call if you ever want to talk shop. I can help you take a look at your numbers and see what we can come up with to boost your sales.” His voice softened. “That might be a good place for us to start if you’d like.”
My heart cracked. “I’d like that.”
“Good luck, Autumn.”
“Thanks, Greg.”
