Chapter Twenty-One
“He seems like a big fan of yours.”
That was some expert-level sarcasm by Jackson. He’d honed his satire skills since the last time I was home.
“Picked up on that, did you?”
I scanned the table for the menu but didn’t see it. Did Brock take both of them with him?
Jackson folded his arms in front of him, looking far too satisfied with himself for comfort. “At least we’ve answered one of the open questions between us.”
“You’ve lost me.”
Probably because it was now clear no one intended to buy my lunch.
“You’re in town for exactly the reason I predicted.”
“It sounds like you want to say gotcha or some equally immature thing.”
Didn’t blame him. I would have in his place.
“Care to explain what just happened?”
“That’s annoying. That tone. The words you use.”
Jackson exhaled loud enough for the people in the next building to hear. “Is there anything about me you do like?”
Not answering that. “Fine. Brock recently caught me off guard during a boring meeting. He demanded I make an on-the-spot pitch, clearly hoping I’d fail. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction and, honestly, I panicked and talked about Gram and Celia’s business.”
Jackson nodded. “What I’m hearing is you sacrificed Mags and Celia to save yourself.”
Damn. My behavior sounded so much worse when Jackson described it. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”
“Of course not.”
Much more of this and I’d forget he helped me out of a jam by backing me up. “Thank you, by the way.”
Jackson shrugged. “No problem. The idea of that guy winning an argument pissed me off.”
“I feel that way every day I step into the office.”
Now what? The steady buzz of conversation around us grew louder the longer we sat there not talking. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”
“I have a few minutes. You can use that time to explain how you intend to get out of this and still keep your job.”
If I knew the answer to that I would have done it already. “Well, you’re the new business attorney . . .”
He smiled. “Nice try.”
“Jackson.”
His smile vanished. “Dad?”
Harlan pulled out the chair across from us. “How did your meeting go?”
Sure, sit down. We’d love to eat with you.
Harlan didn’t wait for an answer. “I assumed you’d want me to attend but then you moved the time up without letting me know. I only found out about the change when I called your office earlier.”
“I had a work conflict this afternoon. It seemed better to get the meeting done over lunch. It just ended.”
Jackson fiddled with the knife at his place setting.
The flash of nerves was a surprise. Jackson tended to glide through life without showing much emotion.
Harlan’s attention shifted back and forth from the knife to Jackson’s face. Harlan looked ready to grab the utensil and throw it across the room. “Was the short length indicative of a problem?”
Really, Harlan? Who talked like that?
Jackson shook his head. “More like my lack of interest. But you know that.”
A very cryptic response. Also, a little snotty, but in this case Jackson’s sharp tone didn’t bug me. Throwing up a boundary when it came to Harlan struck me as both smart and necessary.
I should have excused myself and ran out of there. Let them have some privacy before Harlan started asking me questions. But this was my table, so no. I’d sooner give up eating chips than make Harlan happy.
He seemed hell-bent on chasing Jackson all over town. As far as tactics went this persistence thing bordered on unsettling. So was not knowing the subject matter of the conversation bouncing around me. I understood the words but not the context. Jackson’s meeting sounded important to Harlan. To Jackson? Not so much.
“We can talk about the details later.”
Jackson flipped the knife end over end, letting it thunk against the table each time.
“Kasey. This is a surprise,”
Harlan said in the least welcoming tone ever. “I didn’t know you planned on attending Jackson’s appointment.”
Appointment? “I didn’t.”
Harlan made an odd sound. Like he was mulling over the timeline of events. “I’m confused. I helped to arrange the get-together and, except for the unexpected scheduling issue, intended to be here for it. You just, what, happened to be in the same restaurant as Jackson?”
“Dad.”
Harlan lifted both hands in mock surrender. “No judgment. Just a question.”
Oh, there was judgment all over his question. I didn’t need Jackson’s help to reply to this one. “I love this restaurant and stop in whenever I’m home. Have you tried the homemade chips? I dream about those back in DC.”
Harlan didn’t look impressed by the food talk. “You understand how important this consultation was, right?”
Interesting how the meeting had morphed into a consultation. The new description might fit. I still didn’t know what was going on.
Jackson sighed. “It actually wasn’t.”
Harlan continued talking as if Jackson hadn’t piped up and contradicted him. “This is an excellent opportunity for Jackson.”
“Dad. Kasey doesn’t care about this. That’s enough meeting talk.”
Not for Harlan. He had more. “He’s being vetted. Reputation is everything. I’m sure you understand.”
Not even a little. Harlan talked in sound bites without actually saying anything. Maybe that’s how the political world operated. I tried to jump the conversation over this part. “I was here for a business meeting.”
Harlan didn’t miss a beat. “That’s why you came into town? To attend Jackson’s discussion?”
Wait . . . what? Now it was a discussion and not a consultation? “I have no idea how to answer that question because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jackson finally put the knife down. “Not my meeting, Dad. She was here on business related to her job.”
“I do have one.”
At least for the next few days.
“None of this matters because the lunch was a formality only. And it ending means I need to get to the office.”
Jackson pushed his chair back.
For some reason that seemed to tick off Harlan. “We’re not done.”
Oh, I don’t know about that. It felt like we were done.
I stood up when Jackson did. Harlan didn’t take the hint. He continued to sit there. The look he shot me carried a chill. I got it. He didn’t like me very much. I didn’t know why or what I’d done, but the feeling was mutual.
Jackson turned to me. “We can continue our conversation at dinner.”
When did we agree to another dinner?
He’d supported me with Brock, so I supported him here. “Okay. Sure . . .”
Jackson nodded at someone behind me before looking at me again. “Be at my place around seven.”
Seven? I’d finished dinner and moved on to dessert by seven most nights. But Harlan’s presence killed my ability to shoot smart-ass replies in Jackson’s direction. I also didn’t hate the idea of dinner with Jackson at his condo. If he cooked as well as he did everything else I might lose it and kiss him again. Make it a once-a-decade thing.
Jackson stepped around me to talk with someone. Harlan used the conversation interruption to push his case.
He stood. “Can I be honest with you?”
That sentence starter didn’t sound good. “Sure.”
“Jackson has a bright future.”
Interesting how Harlan managed to make that sound ominous. “Okay.”
“Naturally, with my connections and expertise, I stepped up to marshal his aspirations in an appropriate direction. To provide guidance and focus.”
If Harlan wasn’t careful his overinflated ego might pop.
“His aspirations?”
Because it sounded like Harlan was using the wrong pronoun.
“The timing of these exploratory meetings is crucial.”
We were back to calling today’s event a meeting. Still clueless but fine.
“As it is, I’ve had to push Jackson and insist on his attention to get this done. I’d hate for him to lose out on this opportunity because he got temporarily distracted.”
Harlan packed a lot of posturing into the words he didn’t say.
I was getting blamed for something, but I wasn’t sure what.
“I’m here to offer him support. That’s the extent of my involvement,”
Harlan said.
Sure.
“I promised Jackson’s mother I would remain actively involved in his life.”
Harlan delivered a solemn nod. “She was only days away from dying, and I wanted her to know I’d heard her. That I would make Jackson my life’s priority, and I did.”
Damn. Talk about overplaying his hand. Harlan’s words came wrapped in a thick layer of bullshit. I wanted to ask if his then-girlfriend had been in the room when he made this supposed promise to his sick wife, but I refrained.
Jackson had been nineteen when all of this allegedly happened. He was a lot older now. A fact Harlan conveniently ignored. “Jackson is a grown man and a pretty smart one.”
“About most things but not everything.”
Harlan hesitated just long enough to hammer home that he was trying to make a big, important point. “Not everyone.”
There was nothing subtle about that.
“Just think about what I said.”
Harlan dropped the line and walked away.
The man did like a dramatic exit.
The crowd in the room parted to give him a straight path to the door. No wonder his ego was so big. People treated him like royalty.
Harlan. Harlan. Harlan. So deluded. I’d only been in town for a few days. Even I couldn’t ruin Jackson’s future in that short amount of time.
I had so many questions. Jackson was stuck with me for dinner now because I intended to show up at his condo in search of answers. We had a lot to talk about.