Chapter 38
Julian
“Is it weird he wants to meet with me, too?” I catch Ever’s eyes in the bathroom mirror as I finish shaving. I’m low-key excited to join Ever for lunch with her new boss, but I don’t want to intrude either.
“I don’t know. Maybe a little.” My heart deflates a little at her honesty. “I think he’s just a super nice guy and wants to know the people in his organization better.” She drags her nails lightly up and down my back, popping goosebumps on my skin.
I swipe a towel over my face and attempt to let her off the hook again. “I agree he seems very nice, but I’m not in his organization.”
Ever rolls her eyes, her sassy dimpled smile taking over her face as she shakes her head. “It’s just lunch. If you want, I can go alone. Tell him you got held up with work.”
“No, I wanna go.” I surprise myself admitting that. “I like him. I was just saying—”
She kisses me and pats my cheek. “Good because I like showing off my husband.” Heart reinflated.
The restaurant Jason Ross chose is one I haven’t been to before.
Ashley likes and can afford the finer things in life, but he’s a simple guy, so we tend to frequent more obscure places.
It’s probably why I like him so much. He’s not constantly throwing his success in everyone’s face.
We prefer small and local—like our sushi spot.
This place is white tablecloths and both forks—which isn’t a bad thing.
It just makes me wonder if my first impression of Mr. Ross was incorrect and he really is a snooty rich guy.
It makes me wish I’d looked him up, did a little research.
I’m not entirely sure why I care about his background other than that he seems to be interested in Everly and the twins—but mostly Everly.
Not in a creepy way. He seems genuine. I guess today’s lunch will help me decide.
I force myself out of my head and into the present as we approach him.
“Julian. I’m so glad you could make it, too.” He stands from the table and shakes my hand, gives Ever a side hug and pulls a chair out for her. “I wanted to get to know you better. Your story intrigues me.”
“My story?” The needles pricking the back of my neck make the hair on my arms stand up. Definitely should’ve looked him up. After all this time, I still fall back on wanting to be invisible.
The public persona of Julian McKay and the McKay Method is something I put on—like a business suit.
No matter how long it’s been, it still doesn’t come naturally to me to be on display, put myself out there, be recognized in public, treated like someone.
I know the content creators add some of my personal stuff to my social media, but I ask them to be as vague as possible.
I get final say in anything they post, and the personal stuff is minimal at best. So what’s he referring to?
Is it the Todd stuff? A pit forms in my stomach.
While Ashley’s people did their best to distance me—both me and Everly—from the whole incident, police reports and court proceedings are public record.
I look him in the eye, count my inhales and exhales and wait for his reply.
A waiter shows up to take our drink order. We all order iced tea and glance at our menus, temporarily distracted.
Ross clears his throat, drawing my eyes back to his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep or pry. I just meant the stuff with your stepdad.”
“My stepdad?” One eyebrow hairpins, but I don’t correct him.
“You know”—he flaps both hands in the air—“forget I brought it up. Let’s talk about something else. Anything else.” His smile gives chagrin.
“No, it’s fine. I know it’s a matter of public record and it’s a pretty crazy story. But I just meant that . . . he’s not my stepdad.”
“Oh. So your mom and he were never married?”
“Uhhh . . .”
“Okay, let me back up.” He holds his hands up in surrender, his eyes bouncing between me and Ever, who reaches under the table to rub my thigh—an attempt to soothe me, I’m sure. “Full disclosure, I’m intrigued because I’m from that area originally. I, uh, went to school with your mom.”
My eyebrows draw up into the fallen hair on my forehead as a low buzz roars in my ears.
“You knew—” I blow air out through puffed cheeks. I turn to Ever, and she smiles at me, but her eyes have taken on the deer look I rarely see. I reach for the hand on my leg and squeeze it in my own. “Did you know my . . . Todd?”
He’s already shaking his head.
“No, he was older than me. Outside my teammates, I didn’t really have a life or any other friends. Being a student athlete didn’t leave much room for anything or anyone else. But . . .” He pauses and gasps out an exhale, lips agape.
I hold my breath. Something’s coming. I can feel it.
I’ve no idea what, but I wish he’d just say it already.
I knew this invite to lunch wasn’t random.
Growing up with Todd and Brandi taught me to read situations, energy, body language.
Even though I don’t have cause to do it much anymore in order to feel secure, some things—some habits—are hard to break.
I make myself speak in his silence, attempt to steer the conversation away from me. “That worked out well for you.” Realizing I sound like an asshole, I add, “A worthy tradeoff, yeah?” I force my lips up in a pleasant arc, teeth showing. I see it in his eyes. It didn’t work. I hold my breath again.
“It . . . I met her at a party one night. End of senior year. We were all drinking, celebrating. I was getting a full ride to UCLA; we were all graduating. Everyone had something to celebrate.”
I’m no longer smiling. I just want him to get around to saying whatever he brought me here to say. He knew my mom was a drunk, a junkie. What? Did she do something crazy that night?
“Did she ever mention it?”
My brows pinch together and I know I’m glaring.
I move my head side to side a couple times before I speak.
“With all due respect, Mr. Ross, my mom wasn’t big on story time.
She spent most of my life inebriated and fighting with my father.
Both were meager excuses for parents. So whatever my mom did in high school, I’m sure it wasn’t something she cared to relive or share with a son she didn’t seem to want. ”
“Didn’t seem to . . .” His eyes brim and he lowers them to stare at his hands folded on the table and clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t think Mr. Keller is your . . . uh . . . father.”
My vision tunnels. Ever’s sharp intake of breath echoes in my ear. I understand his words perfectly, but my brain refuses to comprehend their meaning.
“You think? Or you know?”
He shakes his head firmly. “I don’t know anything for sure.”
“But there’s something to know?” My amplified tone draws looks from nearby tables. I take in the head swivels in my periphery and try to lower my voice. “What are you saying?”
The waiter appears again, and the look on his face says he knows he’s interrupting. “Shall I give you more time?”
“Please.” Ross nods to dismiss him without taking his eyes off mine.
Ever gives him a timid smile as he silently retreats.
I track all this without taking my eyes off the man across the table. A man who knows my mom. And me? “You don’t have his last name. I assumed he was your . . . that you knew he wasn’t your real father.”
“I did have his name until I changed it. To my mother’s maiden name. Mr. Ross—”
“Jason, please. Call me Jason.” His eyes sag at the corners—his mouth, too. The man is aging before my eyes.
The hamster wheel in my brain is twirling at warp speed, but I can’t form words.
Ever speaks up. “Jason, maybe you can start at the beginning. Fill in some blanks for us. This whole conversation is causing a lot of alarms to go off in our heads.” My sweet girl really is going to make a kick-ass psychologist.
“Sure. Sure. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be cryptic and I don’t want to alarm either of you. I just . . . think before I do, I should cut to the chase. I think, Julian, I think I might be your real father.”
Ever tightens her grasp on my hand under the table while her other hand flies to her mouth on a sharp intake of breath. I fleetingly wonder how she’s managed to inhale when the air is being sucked out of the room. Jason Ross grows tiny before me as my vision darkens at the edges.
I grip my temples between the thumb and fingers of my free hand, bowing my head over the table. “What?” It comes out barely a whisper and aimed at the table my elbow is bracing to hold my head up.
His hand reaches out, touches my forearm.
I jerk back, clanging the tableware. More heads turn.
I scoot my chair back, intending to leave.
Ever places the napkin from her lap on the table and scoots her chair back, lacing her fingers with mine.
I turn my head and look at her face. Ever.
She slow blinks her stormy eyes at me, just once, and nods her head.
Solidarity. It’s what I need to turn back to him, face him and say, “I’m sorry. I need to—”
“Julian, please. Don’t go. I don’t mean to ambush you here.
I’m as shocked as you are. But I couldn’t—when I learned who you were—when I thought maybe—I didn’t want to waste any more time.
Will you please stay? Both of you?” He turns his full gaze on Ever, pleading.
Smart. She’s the way to me and he knows it. “Please?”
She looks at me for the answer, but I can tell she wants me to agree.
I nod once and scoot my chair back up to the table.
The relief is clear on his face. He smiles at both of us alternately. “Can we order some food? Just talk?”
I’m not sure how I’ll eat anything right now, but I obligingly look at the menu.
The third item down under entrées is chicken broccoli alfredo.
Ever and I glance at each other and smile.
It’s like the universe knew we’d need comfort food for this.
The waiter appears from nowhere and quietly takes our order.
When Ever and I order the same dish, Jason tells the waiter to make it three with a grin he bestows on all three of us, one that trips my heart rate because now it looks so familiar.
Surprisingly, we devour our meals. It’s delicious.
It probably helped that we made conscious small talk while we ate.
As the waiter clears our plates, I decide to go all in.
“I was born Jayce Julian Keller. When I was eighteen I changed my name to Julian McKay—Brandi’s maiden name.
When I obtained a copy of my birth certificate to legally change my name, there was no father’s name listed. I never thought twice about it.”
“I’ve always gone by Jase. She would’ve known me as Jase.
” His eyes fill again, as they’ve done repeatedly throughout the conversation.
“We didn’t exactly know each other, though.
We just . . .” He rubs the side of his index finger across his forehead.
“God, I’m not proud of this. We just hooked up. ”
“How often?” My cheeks flame as I ask, but I can’t help myself.
He’s already shaking his head. “Once. That night. I never saw her again after that night. She never tried to contact me. My parents lived there for several years after I left for college. She could’ve tried.
” He shakes his head as one tear rushes down his cheek.
He brushes it away. “Why didn’t she try? ”
The question seems rhetorical, so I don’t answer.
“Mr. Ross—Jason. Maybe it’s not what you think. You don’t know. Yes, the timing is right, but everything else is just Lifetime movie-level coincidence.” His smile looks so sad I almost feel bad for the guy. I truly don’t know what I think or feel except a little numb and detached.
“Only one way to find out. Would you be willing to take a paternity test with me? But Julian?” I raise my brows in answer, so he continues. “I know. You look just like my father. We both do.”
“People said I looked like her, but I don’t look anything like Todd.”
“And your natural athleticism? Even though you never played sports.” One corner of his mouth lifts, showcasing a dimple. One just like mine.
I think back to how much I loved hanging with Hal on the Little League field. Again, a weird coincidence. Genetics don’t predispose you to be drawn to locations, activities, right?
“Yeah, I’ll take the test. How long does it take to get results?”
“I think we’ll pay to put a rush on it.” The half smile and dimple again.