28. Miles Day
We’ve only just sat down at a table in the club’s restaurant and I’m already exhausted. My father spent the short drive to the course droning on about business. He’s a corporate lawyer and loves it more than anything else. More than me, more than my mom or any of his girlfriends he’s had over the years. He loves the high-rise in Cape Alamanda that he works at, his oversized desk with the perfect view of the water and a bar cart filled with the best whiskey and cigars.
Before my parents got divorced, I used to want what he had. I loved the idea of being just like my Dad. Now I’d rather go cage diving sans cage in shark infested waters. That might be a little dramatic, but his presence brings it out in me.
Our waiter is at our table before we can even glance at the menu. I’m sure he heard that Arthur Day was in the building and knew that if he took a little too long he’d be out of a job before his shift ended. My father is not known for patience. We place our orders, both of us having been here enough to know what we want without looking.
“So, what did you want to discuss?” I ask once we have our drinks.
“Jumping straight into things are we?”
I fan my hands out in front of me. “I assume you have a reason for wanting to have lunch.”
His expression darkens. “My reason is that I’m your father and I have a right to time with you.”
I clench my jaw. No one has a right to my time, it’s mine. But I need to play smart, choose my battles wisely. There’s no sense in working him up from the start.
“I’m sorry.” The words taste bitter in my mouth. “I just meant that this visit was sudden, so I wondered if a recent event brought it on.”
He shrugs nonchalantly and picks up his whiskey glass. Never mind that it’s barely noon, he’s never without it. If I were a corporation, I’d be worried about his alcohol consumption. But he’s never had any issues.
“I’m curious about your life is all, as is your mother.” His lip curls. He fails at hiding his disdain of her. He’s always failed in that area.
“Not much has changed since the last time we spoke. I’m busy preparing for a tournament.”
He smirks behind his glass. “And what about this new assistant of yours? The pretty little redhead?”
My blood runs cold at him bringing up Ellie. I work to maintain my composure. I can’t give him anything. He’ll report back to my mother and then this entire club and every gossip column there is will be talking about us. If we were together, I wouldn’t care. But we aren’t. I need to protect Ellie from that.
“What about her? She’s a good assistant.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
I clench my teeth so hard they’re liable to crack. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a simple question. Are you sleeping with her? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. She’s–”
I cut him off. “Don’t finish that sentence.” My tone is hard.
He hums, the sound echoing off his glass as he drinks more. I can’t say this is the first time I’ve wanted to hit my father, but it’s one of the most intense times.
“And I’m not sleeping with her. She’s my assistant and friend, that’s all,” I add, hoping to end this conversation.
“A friend who wears your clothes? Who you call Red?” My jaw hurts from clenching it so hard. I hate her nickname coming out of his mouth. “And let’s not forget the countless calls your mother received about you two on the golf course together not long ago. Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”
“She’s just a friend,” I emphasize. “But even if she was more, it wouldn’t matter.”
“That’s what you think now,” he replies, leaning back in his chair. “But five years from now when she’s got your beach house and gets half your paycheck because she spit out a few babies, it will matter.”
I clench my fists under the table. “None of that is going to happen.”
He sighs as if I exhaust him. “I’ve been where you are. Pretty women come and go. I don’t care if you sleep with all your assistants–I went through that phase, I understand the appeal–but you can’t go further than that.”
Anger burns in my chest like a fire. Every word he speaks is like gasoline on the flames.
“I’ve only ever married one woman, and even that I regret. But your mother was from a good family and we built something important together. She’s worth the alimony check. These other women? Assistants, waitresses, flight attendants? Don’t tie yourself to any of them. They’re all gold diggers trying to latch themselves on the most gullible man they can find.”
“Please stop talking,” I say, sounding as pained as I feel. I want to say more, but I’m afraid of how he’ll react and who he’ll take it out on.
“I won’t watch you lose everything you worked for–everything I paid for–because of a woman. You’re better than that.”
“I can’t listen to this anymore. I’m leaving.”
I stand, but he catches my arm in a vise grip. “We haven’t gotten our food yet. You will not leave like this.” In my peripheral vision I see heads turn our way.
I level him with a glare. “Let go of my arm or I will make even more of a scene than this.”
He releases me and snatches up his glass. “It’s a good thing we’ll be at the Open to support you next week, or else I’d be disappointed in you having to leave so soon for training.” He raises his voice for the sake of those around us.
I throw some cash on the table and leave without reacting to his statement. Once I’m outside the club I remember that my dad drove us both here, so I don’t have a car. I’m not ready to see Fitz or Ellie yet, so I decide to walk down the hill to Wave Way. It’s not far to Sand Dollar Diner, so I can head there and eat lunch before calling someone to take me home.
As I walk, my anger bubbles to the surface. I can’t believe my own father spoke that way about Ellie, about women in general. I share DNA with that man. The very thought makes me nauseous. My mother isn’t a saint, but I wish I would have gotten her blonde hair and brown eyes instead. I hate that I look like him. I hate that I share his last name. I’m ashamed to be related to him.
I’ve gotten used to his disgusting, slimy ways over the years. I’ve watched him change women the way my mother changes out handbags. But it’s only ever affected him. He manages to keep that area of his life private enough that the press never asks me about it. I’ve been able to keep my distance from him in that regard.
Now, however, he’s brought Ellie into this. I have no doubt that this won’t be his last try at dissuading me from having a relationship with her. Both my parents are vindictive enough to go directly to Ellie. They’ll bribe her, and when she turns that down they’ll be passive-aggressive every time they come into contact with her. If she thought the people at the club were bad, they have nothing on my family.
I shouldn’t have given her my sweatshirt, or a nickname, or taken her golfing. I should have kept my distance and been professional like I intended for us both to be. It would have been so much easier. She would be saving for her dream and I’d be living my life as normal. Just me and a few friends and golf. I was content with that.
A breeze brushes against my skin, but even the salty air can’t relax me. This is all too much. How am I supposed to protect Ellie from my parents and win the U.S. Open? Not to mention figure out how to move forward after this.
I feel like I’m in quicksand. The more I struggle against these emotions the faster I sink. I rake a hand through my hair and growl in frustration. These problems wouldn’t even exist if I would have just stayed strong. If I would have ignored what my friends were saying and maintained my boundaries.
As I make it further down the hill I catch a glimpse of the ocean between two buildings. I’m transported back to the beach with Ellie. Her full, pink lips stretched into a magnificent smile. The way she looked at me when she asked me to put sunscreen on her back. It was the kind of look that dared me to kiss her. And oh how I wanted to. But fear held me back then, just as it does now.
Memory after memory featuring Ellie flit through my mind as I walk down Wave Way. Suddenly I know with bone-deep certainty that it wouldn’t have mattered if Shaw and Fitz had never said a word in favor of her. I was a goner from the moment I laid eyes on her the day of our interview. Trying not to fall for Ellie is like fighting a rip current. A hopeless endeavor.
But even as I’m falling harder for her every day, I’m not sure I should be allowed to. Not when I’m related to a man who is so despicable it pains me to know his name much less share it. All I’ve known is arguing and manipulation. How can I be sure I’m not predisposed to behaving the same way as my parents?
My chest tightens at the thought of letting Ellie go, but I can’t fathom hurting her worse years from now. It’s too painful to even consider. I can’t be selfish; I have to stop things before they go any further and we end up like my parents. I don’t want us to end up hating each other.
The decision makes me feel physically ill, but I know it’s for the best. Ellie and I won’t have any kind of romantic relationship. And–for her safety as well as my focus–she won’t come with me to the U.S. Open.