34. Derrick
34
DERRICK
"H ow are you feeling?" I asked Rachel the next day.
She sat on a chair on the other side of my desk in black leggings and a retro Rainbow Bright T-shirt.
"I've been better," she answered.
We’d spent the morning sorting through our action plan. My goal was making sure Rachel was prepared for the emotional roller coaster that was about to slam into her when Brad arrived.
We had decided to feel him out and, depending on how he reacted to our initial questions, we might or might not reveal the real reason why we asked him to come today.
He was due any minute, and Rachel looked nervous, fidgeting with her phone and chewing her lip. I wanted to reach out and reassure her, but I didn't. She didn't want boyfriend comfort. She wanted Derrick, the steadying, reliable boss.
What the hell was I thinking last night? I wanted to think of it like Rachel did. A bit of fun and stress relief. But did the whole friends with benefits work when you were in love with the person? Where was the fucking manual for that?
I had been tossing and turning all night, making arguments in my head, trying to convince myself that fooling around with Rachel was enough. In the end I woke up with a headache, a heartache, and no resolutions.
Not that any of my emotional crap mattered. I needed to put my energy into being someone Rachel could depend on, not a...what did she call me...sad puppy dog.
I rolled my eyes internally. Rachel really was allergic to real emotions.
A moment later there was a knock on my office door. A tall man with short, chestnut hair and a confident stride walked in. He was dressed in a sharp suit, exuding the aura of someone who was used to being in control.
I greeted him with a warm smile and asked him to sit in the chair next to Rachel, introducing her as a colleague who was sitting in on the meeting.
"Derrick, nice to meet you," he said, his smile bright and white. "I'm eager to hear what you had in mind. Your message took me by surprise."
"I..." Rachel faltered. "Um, I'm the producer for a show called ‘Who Are You’ and your name came up while researching one of the guest's family heritage."
Rachel and I had decided this would be the best approach.
"Oh," Brad flicked a curious gaze back at me. "That's not what I was expecting."
"Do you remember a young woman named Jessica Lin?" Rachel asked, a slight tremble in her voice.
Brad's face went pale, and he sat back slowly, his eyes never leaving Rachel's. "Jessica ... Sure, I remember her. What is this about again? Who's the guest?"
Rachel took a deep breath, swallowing thickly. "Did you two date in high school?"
He frowned, shifting in his seat.
"Yes," he answered hesitantly. "Is she the guest? Is she here?" He glanced at the door as if she would walk in any minute.
"No," I said, jumping in. "She passed away last year."
"Oh." Brad's shoulders sank, and his face went slack. "Really? How?"
"Cancer," Rachel said.
Brad blinked, shifting in the chair. "I haven't thought about her in years."
"Were you her boyfriend in high school?" I asked, using my don't-fuck-with-me detective voice.
"I...we...why is that relevant?" Brad's face shuttered, and years of interrogations told me we were about to lose him.
"Do you want to continue?" I glanced at Rachel, trying to convey that it was up to her. We could end this right here if she wanted.
Rachel took a steadying breath, her eyes never leaving mine, like she was siphoning courage. Then she gave the tiniest of nods. I turned my attention to Brad, ready to jump in if he reacted in any way that might threaten Rachel. I had also learned over the years that people were very unpredictable when they received a shock.
"I don't know how to say this without startling you," Rachel said, chewing her lip like it was dinner.
Brad straightened his shoulders, swinging his eyes back and forth between us suspiciously. "Just say it. You obviously brought me here under somewhat false pretenses."
"I'm so sorry about that," Rachel hastily said. "The thing is, I think you're my father."
The words hung in the air. Rachel's eyes were wide and fearful, and it took everything in me to stay behind my desk and not go to her. That no matter what he said after this, she'd be okay. I'd make damn sure of it.
Brad on the other hand looked stunned, his mouth gaping open. He glanced toward the door like he might run.
"I-I don't understand," he stammered. "Jessica and I never...except once...and a few months after that she just disappeared. She left school and I never saw her again."
"She was pregnant, and her family pressured her to give me up," Rachel explained, leaning forward, a spark of hope in her eyes. "I was telling the truth when I said she passed away recently. From breast cancer. Everything came out and her family tracked me down. I just found out about you. About her. I'm sorry. I know this is unexpected."
Brad leaned back, his eyes filled with a mixture of shock and sorrow.
"I had no idea. Jessica and I were in love, young love, and then she ended things so abruptly. I always wondered why. How did you find me?"
Rachel glanced at me, and I smiled encouragingly.
"Her niece has been helping us gather information, and we did some digging into old yearbooks and the school's Facebook page and found a photo of you two together."
"And you searched for me online and found my LinkedIn page," Brad finished. "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," Rachel quickly said. "I'm just trying to find answers."
Brad nodded, still looking dazed. "I'd like to take a DNA test before this goes any further."
Rachel's eyes brightened. "Of course. I totally get it. And that's what I want too."
"Okay." He nodded, but it was obvious he was still processing.
We discussed the details of the test and arranged for it to be done as soon as possible. As we wrapped up the meeting, Brad looked at Rachel with a mixture of awe and regret.
"This is a lot," he said. "I need some time."
Rachel nodded, her lips flattening into a line. "I get it."
She walked him to the door, and they had an awkward goodbye, unsure how to depart. They ended up shaking hands.
Rachel collapsed on the couch, and I sat next to her, keeping a cushion apart. I looked over and her face was a mixture of relief and nervous anticipation.
"I know you're mad, Derrick," she said, staring at the rug at her feet, her eyes glazed. "But thank you for helping me."
A flicker of warmth spread across my chest, and I beat it into submission.
"I'm not mad, Rachel." I reached across the couch and took her small hand in mine and squeezed it once, then let go.
Rachel glanced at me with a small smile. "Okay."
She left and I sank against the closed door, pressing my fists into my eyes. This morning, I wanted to give her what she wanted. A casual relationship. But being close to her and not being able to be with her felt like claws ripping my chest apart.
After the results came back, I was out. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is like being cut by a thousand razers over and over again, and it was slowly killing me.