Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
Andrew Underwood didn’t show up in Green Oak alone.
He’d arrived with a journalist named Willa Wang, who had done Andrew’s piece for Time, and who dressed in a range of beiges and carried a little leather notepad she’d been tapping her pen on for the last ten minutes.
She was the woman who called me a misstep in a renowned magazine.
Andrew Underwood was also late. To a meeting he’d set up.
But he belonged to a world where certain things couldn’t wait. That had to be why the call he was taking in the room next to the living area in the elegant house he was renting outside Green Oak was more important than the four people waiting.
I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap, trying to ignore the sound of both Bobbi’s nails tipping and tapping away at her phone, and Willa’s pen as it rapped against her notepad. I wondered if she actually scribbled in it or if it was just for show. Maybe it was some kind of trick journalists used to intimidate the truth out of their subjects. Although that sounded more like an interrogation and not the casual chat Bobbi had mentioned we were having whenever Andrew got here.
Warmth enveloped my hand, making my breath hitch. Matthew. Obviously. I turned my head, brown eyes meeting mine from his spot beside me on the burgundy couch. He held my gaze, a question in his eyes.
Sorry, I mouthed, deciding he was referring to the fidgeting.
He frowned and shook his head slightly, a soft smile parting his face. He had such a handsome smile. My shoulders eased slightly. “You look beautiful in this dress.” His gaze dipped briefly. “Is this tulle?”
“It is,” I admitted. My face was flaming. I didn’t even know why, just that apparently I wasn’t in control of simple bodily functions when this man called me beautiful. “And you… look beautiful too.” Matthew’s brows arched, then a smirk took shape. I lowered my voice a little. “But not too beautiful. You’re presentable. The right amount of attractive. And I actually prefer you in your glasses.”
The brown in his eyes sparked with interest. His voice went down, and he must have been on a quest to distract me because he said, “I know that now. Sugarplum.”
I wrinkled my nose at him before turning toward the other two women with a tense smile. Sugarplum wasn’t a winner either.
Bobbi’s eyes found mine from the settee she was perched on. Her lips were pressed in a line. She was still a little mad at me for ignoring her. And she probably thought my and Matthew’s exchange was cringy. I gave her a nod and she answered with more glaring.
“So, Josephine,” Willa said, snatching my attention. “How far along are the wedding preparations?”
“They’re… far enough to be along.”
“She means that everything’s under control,” Bobbi explained. “Especially now that the father of the bride is here.”
I couldn’t help but stiffen in the plush cushion I was sitting on. Was that why Andrew was here? Gosh, I wished I could pull out my phone and see one more time if I could find the answers in Bobbi’s magic W.P. of Hell, or whatever she called it.
“I bet,” Willa commented, eyes still on me. “I hope that’s not being tainted by all that is being said online.” My breath caught on its way in, and I felt Matthew’s arm coming around my waist. “I hear planning can be daunting.”
“Daunting is one way to put it,” I repeated with a smile. “So how long have you been writing for Time magazine? Any reason in particular why you’ve decided to visit the beautiful state of North Carolina?”
“I’ve worked in the field long enough to know it can’t be easy for you to be roped into something like this,” Willa answered. She flung her pad open and scribbled a word. “The public eye can be vicious, as I’m sure you’ve seen with your father. Then your sister. Now you.” Her gaze bounced to the man by my side. “Or the two of you, better said.”
I wondered what she’d just written down. I wondered if I could see if I squinted my eyes. “That’s nothing I—or my fiancé—can’t handle,” I quipped. Matthew’s hand at my hip squeezed as if in confirmation. “We know how to keep busy, block the noise, and stay focused on what’s important.”
“Like the wedding,” Willa concluded, making me think that Bobbi wasn’t the only person who believed that a wedding was the solution to every problem. A drop of sweat clung to the nape of my neck, and Willa scribbled some more in her pad. She lifted her head. “Do you mind telling me a little about that?”
Sheesh. For such an aesthetically pleasing–looking woman, she was like a dog with a bone. Reminded me of Bobbi, and we were only ten minutes into this. “What about it?”
“Anything you’re comfortable sharing.” She shrugged an elegant shoulder, her poise casual. “Returning to your question, that’s why I’m here. To learn everything there is about Andrew. We’re working on a book, as I’m sure he’s told you. I wouldn’t call it a biography but more of a recollection of all his accomplishments and failures. We’re still finessing the details. For now, all I want is to gain an understanding of his life. That includes you, Josephine. It also includes things like your fiancé, the wedding, Andrew’s role in that, or the hometown you two share.”
I blinked at the woman. For a long moment.
A book? A… memoir, from what she’d described. She was wrong. I was hearing about it for the first time. And the fact that the woman who had called me a misstep was writing it led me to believe she might consider me one of those failures she’d mentioned.
I pushed out an awkward-sounding laugh. “Well, if you’re looking for the story of how I was conceived, I don’t think I’m the person to ask. I wasn’t really there that night, Willa.”
Bobbi’s jaw hit the floor.
Matthew covered a snort with a cough.
And I would have felt a prickle of pride if I wasn’t busy trying not to be intimidated by the way Willa was looking at me.
“I’d like for you to show me around, Josephine,” Willa said. “Spend some time with you while I’m here. Besides shadowing Andrew.”
“Sure, of course,” the people pleaser in me started, but I saw Bobbi’s head shaking. “Or maybe not. Maybe…” Bobbi lifted a finger and signaled something I didn’t understand. “Maybe Bobbi should? Yes. She’s been here long enough to know her way around town. And I know she’s been dying to socialize with someone who can relate to being away from home. So she should take you.”
Bobbi’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you, Josephine,” she deadpanned. “I’m truly ecstatic to show Willa around this wonderful place.”
Matthew’s hand moved at my hip, what had to be his thumb brushing my skin over the tulle, the gesture tickling and warming my skin. It felt like a tiny reward, a distraction I deserved, and a strange sound left my throat in response. He continued, awareness bubbling in the most inappropriate way and moment.
“I wonder what’s taking Andrew so long,” Willa commented.
“He’ll be here in a minute,” Bobbi answered.
That thumb got a little adventurous, trailing up, tickling me further, and driving me even more distracted. “I guess only Andrew would be late to the first meeting with his child, huh?”
Matthew’s hand went still. His body, too.
Bobbi gave her head one disapproving shake. Willa returned to her notes, adding something else.
“Sorry,” I said, flustered. “That came out worse than it sounded in my head. We’ve been face-to-face. Through a screen. In the monthly Zoom calls. It’s really not like he didn’t want to come here. He’s a busy man. And I get it. I’m mayor of town and I own a business. I could have flown to Miami if I wanted to, but I was busy.” I swallowed, my excuse feeling silly. Had I really compared those two things to Andrew’s responsibilities? “Anyone else struggling with this heat wave? Because this time last year, I wouldn’t have been wearing this dress. I can tell you that much.”
Bobbi chuckled, the sound as stiff as it was brief. “Andrew has plenty of time for his children,” she said before turning to the other woman. “There’s barely been a second to breathe with the news of his retirement and everything that it entails, much less to fly around the country. That’s why we have the internet. I FaceTime everyone in my life.” Her eyes landed back on me. “That’s completely normal.”
Despite the smile I gave her, a heaviness I’d more than gotten acquainted with had settled in my belly. “Absolutely. Hundred percent. I’m sorry I phrased it that way.”
With a long, worn-out-sounding sigh, as if he’d just lost some secret inner battle, Matthew dragged me closer to his side with his arm. Right against him. And I couldn’t know what it was about the gesture, or the way he felt against me in that moment, but if he offered me a cuddle—even with Willa and Bobbi right there—I’d take him up on the offer.
“Hey,” he said, low, so low. Almost hushed. And I didn’t want to look at him, because I was clearly on the verge of doing something silly. But I did. I watched his eyes as they roamed all over my face, searching for something. Then I felt his fingers close softly—yet tightly—around the tulle of my dress. He looked away. “He’d better get here in the next thirty seconds.”
I rolled my eyes at the muttered words. Even if for myself.
But all I could think about was how glad I was that Matthew was here. How absolutely relieved I was to have him with me. Even if all of this was nothing but an arrangement, and the ring on my finger was on loan, and we weren’t celebrating that wedding everyone was so hyper-focused on. Even if I’d cornered him into helping me. Matthew had managed to be someone I could escape to for a second of respite, for support, just like Adalyn had encouraged. Right this moment, I really was leaning on Matthew like I would on my partner, my fiancé. Using him to bear some, if not most, of the weight I couldn’t hold myself. And I didn’t think he was aware how much I was doing that.
“Josephine,” a new voice sounded.
I sprang to my feet.
I didn’t have the slightest idea why, only that I did.
My eyes landed on a sixty-something man with striking blue eyes I knew well. They were my own. Unlike all the previous times I’d seen him, Andrew wasn’t wearing a suit. Instead, he wore a collared sweater over a dark shirt that matched the color of his pants. Oddly enough, it somehow seemed even more formal than the suit.
“Sorry to make you wait,” he said, looking straight at me. As if I was the only person in the room with him.
I realized I hadn’t yet spoken then. Not even a hi.
I also realized how strange it felt to hear those words coming out of his mouth. Sorry to make you wait. What a natural yet intricate thing to say for someone who is always making me wait. I knew he meant those fifteen or twenty minutes that we’d been sitting here. But what about the twelve months since the day he called me to inform me he was my father? What about the lifetime I’d gone without knowing about him? Was he sorry about those waits too?
“No problem,” I said. I willed my mouth to give him a smile, ignoring the way the gesture made me off-balance. “So how was the trip? Tedious, I bet.”
“It’s a two-hour flight,” Andrew countered in the same deep voice he’d use during those scattered Zoom calls we’d had. “So it wasn’t too bad.”
It’s just a two-hour flight, I thought, and not for the first time.
A two-hour flight, but so much distance between us.
“Right.” I chuckled, the sound matching the tightness in my chest. “I knew that. It would be a different thing if you were on the West Coast, huh? Now that would be a hassle to come all the way over here for this. Changing time zones is one of my least favorite things in the world.”
Andrew’s jaw clenched in response, something changing in his gaze. I waited for him to voice whatever that was, engrossed by how much the color of his eyes resembled mine. Or the other way around, perhaps. He moved, striding in my direction, and with those first steps, I felt my whole body go into high alert. Would he go for a hug? A handshake? A kiss on the cheek? I didn’t know what I preferred.
My father came to a stop before reaching me. Right on the other side of the coffee table that had been separating Bobbi and Willa from me and Matthew. Andrew hesitated, and it was as if an invisible line was drawn.
I felt a weight, soft but solid, at the small of my back. It was what made me notice I’d taken a small step back myself.
“You look just like her,” Andrew said. “Eloise.”
I changed my mind. I no longer cared about whether I wanted a hug, or a handshake, or a kiss on the cheek from this man. I wanted him to take that back. To start this over. Not because it was untrue. But because I didn’t think I could have this conversation right now. Not right off the bat. Not when we could have talked about Mom on any of those calls his assistant had scheduled for us. This was not how I’d ever pictured meeting him. We were supposed to make some small talk. Maybe I’d tell a joke and break through that hard fa?ade. Maybe he’d laugh. Maybe we’d awkwardly hug each other goodbye. I’d been ready to try that, not this.
“Liz,” Andrew explained, as if my silence could possibly mean I didn’t know. “Your mother.”
Both my thoughts and emotions scrambled. Liz. Mom. God, I wondered what she thought of this moment. I wondered what she’d like me to do, too. Or what she’d seen in a man like him. I wondered if she’d go off on that woman for calling me Andrew’s misstep. No. She wouldn’t do that.
She would have laughed at how awkwardly I was smiling and said something funny to lighten the mood. “I think you knew how I looked before entering this room,” I told him, shoving everything aside. Clean slate, Josie. Second chances can’t bloom without water. I pushed out a light laugh. “And I do have your eyes. Mom’s were dark, just like her sense of humor.”
“Right,” my father said. He cleared his throat. “Congratulations are in order.” His gaze shifted to my side, making me notice Matthew was right there. Solid. Silent. His palm at my back. “Matthew. Happy to see you.”
“Andrew,” my fiancé replied in a voice I’d never heard him use. “Wish I could say the same.”
Unlike me, or Bobbi, or Willa, who I could see turning a page in her notepad, my father’s face didn’t register shock at Matthew’s words. Especially when he said, “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“About what, exactly?” Matthew asked.
Andrew huffed out what I supposed was a laugh. “You. Laying hold of one of my daughters after tagging along with this family for so long. I see you didn’t waste time.”
Bobbi’s eyes widened. Willa scribbled some more on her pad.
I just watched, taken aback, as something passed between the two men, something I didn’t like. Almost as little as what Andrew had implied. My lips parted with a complaint, a defense, but Matthew clasped my hand in his. He squeezed.
“Funny you should say that, Andrew,” he said, brown eyes flickering to the side to meet mine. He brought my fingers to his lips. Laid a kiss on my skin. “Only a fool would wait when there’s something so precious to be claimed.”
My heart stopped in my chest.
To anyone else, I was sure that sounded like a confirmation of Andrew’s accusation that my fiancé was after his money. But to me… to me it meant him having my back. It meant he didn’t care what anyone thought. It meant being seen, too. Because Andrew had waited a long time to reach out. And Matthew had called him a fool for it. To his face. And from the way he was looking at me right now, I could tell that it wasn’t out of spite, but because he understood exactly how that made me feel. Because he could see what I hadn’t told him. Was this part of the reason why he was helping me?
“Well, this was wonderful,” Bobbi intervened, snatching the attention from everyone in the room. “Great first meeting. Very insightful for Willa, I’m sure. Let’s cut it short for now and pick this back up on Friday. During the welcome party Green Oak is throwing for Andrew. Josie is organizing it.”
The what? I mouthed at Bobbi, shock cascading down my back.
Bobbi sent me a look before turning her attention to a frowning Willa. “Yes, please make sure to write that down, because we’d love to have you there. Actually, do you mind if I have a look at what you’ve been scribbling? I’m a great fact-checker.”
Willa threw the thing inside her bag. “I mind, yes.”
Bobbi glared at her before murmuring an, “Okay, fine.” She turned toward my father. “Andrew, there are a couple of issues we should discuss. But before we leave, we should… take care of that little thing we need.”
Andrew Underwood shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable. “I already told you it won’t be necessary. I don’t want Josephine to feel pressured into it.”
Matthew seemed to go on alert again, as if he was hearing something I didn’t.
“Nonsense.” Bobbi’s attention jumped to me. Her arm stretched in Andrew’s direction. “Josephine, I’m sure you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind what?” I asked, genuinely confused.
Matthew grumbled something under his breath before speaking in that voice he’d used with my father, “Don’t test me, Shark. Josie’s not a prop you can—”
“Now, now,” Bobbi interjected, smiling. “Everyone loves a family picture.” My blood swooshed to my feet. “And I think Josephine can decide whether she wants one on her own. So, Josephine? I have the perfect backdrop for a father-daughter shot.”