Chapter 17
I haven’t seen Saylor’s dad since I helped him pack up his truck for the last time.
I always wished I knew him better. He seemed like a good soul.
So different from the woman who worked for my dad.
How Saylor’s mom and he ever married baffles me.
They were exact opposites. I always admired her dad’s character.
He held all the cards that day. He could have burned the world down and made a lot of people pay or pay up, at the very least. But he knew what was best for Saylor, and that’s how he drew his lines.
He couldn’t take her on the road with him, and as much as he resented her mom, he knew Saylor’s life would be easier here.
Even dirty money is money, and it can buy opportunity.
I don’t know that I could have been such a bigger person.
I’m flawed that way. Too bent on revenge.
Though I have managed to keep a lot of secrets over the years.
I guess the pain of speaking to them out loud could cause innocent people to outweigh the temptation to hurt my enemies.
I suppose I have some sort of moral compass.
I think I can keep my poker face in check when we watch her father’s gig. I just hope he can. He’s been the bigger man for a while now. Eight years is a long time to keep painful things in a box. And sometimes, all it takes is a little reminder to set off chaos.
I have a week to ready myself for that test, though.
Right now, I need to get my emotions collected for my first visit to my dad’s office while wired up like a CIA agent.
I spent the morning testing sound and capturing clips on the app Steve-Mike had me download to my phone.
Everything I record gets sent to him instantly, so this morning his inbox was inundated with my coffee order and a brief conversation with myself about how I need to suck it up and quit being a pussy.
I know he listened because the version of him that sold me a car messaged to tell me that he forgot to mention the sound quality of the Vette’s speakers. They’re sensitive, he wrote.
It's a hundred and four degrees outside, which limits what I can wear to cover the straps wrapped around my chest. I’d feel a lot better if I could throw on a hoodie, or at least toss on a flannel over my T-shirt, but that would raise suspicions.
And I can’t exactly flip a switch and suddenly show up as the guy who wears a long-sleeve button-down to my dad’s office.
Jeans and a black T-shirt will have to do.
I’m probably being paranoid, anyhow. It’s not like the wires are bulky or I’m going to run into anyone insisting on a pat down.
It’s mostly that I can feel them, and that’s a constant reminder that I’m about to sell my dad down the river.
I turn the air on full blast in my car and roll down my window as Jersey waves from across the garage. He’s holding up what looks like Saylor’s part.
“Is that everything?” I holler so he can hear me over my engine’s rumble.
“Almost. I got a good deal on this, but she’s gonna need some wires, too. That engine fried real fast.”
I nod and mentally add up the amount I’m going to need to cover. No way am I letting Saylor pay for any of this, but I’d also prefer to keep what’s going on between the two of us private, at least private from Jersey. Mig knows the bare minimum, and that’s way too fucking much.
“Okay, do what we need to get her running. She can cover it.” AKA I can cover it.
“Right on, man. I’ll need your help when the wire kit comes in, maybe Tuesday,” Jersey says. I build in an extra day because he’s terrible at scheduling shit. He’ll probably call in sick or something that day.
“I’ll be here all week. Oh, but hey . . . I’ll have to dip from the auction early Saturday. You think you and Mig can handle the afternoon dockets? I’ve got . . .” I struggle with the right lie, but thankfully, Jersey bails me out.
“No problem. Deal with your family shit. I know you’re still digging out of that hole.” He snorts a laugh and nods at me before dropping his headphones back to his ears and returning his focus under Saylor’s hood.
Family shit. Yeah, that basically covers anything going on in my life, except for Saylor. I need to start using that as my blanket statement anytime I don’t want to delve into details.
I’m going to have to pull from my very pathetic savings to cover the wire harness for Saylor’s car. I don’t want to write too many IOUs to the shop. That’s a bad habit that might land me in the exact hot seat my father’s in, though at a much, much smaller scale.
I’ve done my homework on my dad’s case, at least the small pieces that Steve-Mike shared with me.
It’s the same scam he’s been running for years.
The same shit he tried to pin on my mom when he thought the feds were starting to sniff around his brokerage.
This time, he’s going to pin it on me or Caleb.
Maybe both of us. Of course, good ole dad won’t pull the safety brake unless he needs to.
I suppose that should make me feel better, less expendable.
My temper is making its way to my lead foot, and I’m suddenly barreling down the freeway at ninety while muttering to myself. Thankfully, I notice as I whip past a pair of motorcycles and let up on the pedal before I get myself a felony speeding ticket and a new set of shackles to my dad.
Caleb’s car parked in the visitor spot next to my father’s provides some relief.
Hating my brother will make for a good distraction, and I might just be able to use him to get closer to my dad.
I park on the second level of the garage and stuff the parking ticket in my back pocket, mentally noting to have Allison validate it before I leave.
I’m suddenly bleeding money today, so I’m going to need to save that twenty bucks for better things.
I stop beside a pitch black, massive SUV to scope out my reflection and check my shirt for wrinkles or other signs that I’ve got anything going on underneath other than a white undershirt and a shit ton of audio wires.
Satisfied that the only thing left to smooth out is the stress wrinkle on my forehead, I head to the elevator and start my box breathing to keep my pulse down.
Slow counts of four times every breath in and out, as well as the holds in between, until I’m in the elevator and on my way to my father’s floor.
The ding when the doors open into my father’s office lobby acts as a hard reset for me, and I’m instantly focused on getting what I need today.
The man loves to talk, and he loves the idea of me wanting to finally give in and fit his mold.
All I’ll need to do is show a genuine interest in his work, and he’ll spill something. I’m sure of it.
I’ve got this.
My gaze hits my brother’s first, then shifts to Allison. The two of them are talking at Allison’s desk right outside my father’s office, and given the way both of their spines instantly straighten, and their mouths shut, I’d guess they were talking about me.
“Oh look, you’re working today instead of floating down the river with a keg of beer.” I figure I may as well beat Caleb to the insults.
He chuckles and stretches his back as if he’s yawning and bored of me.
“It’s easier taking days off when you’re on track to make a shitload of money.
But I guess money isn’t important to you, huh?
I mean, you took the day off too. Saw you at the lake, with Saylor.
” He drops that bit just to hook Allison’s attention.
He doesn’t know that she’s already tuned in and staring at me with lasers.
“Well, money isn’t everything,” I say, punctuating it with a smug grin that makes his eyes narrow. I’d love to walk away and let him stew on that, but I also need to do what I can not to completely piss Allison off. I shift my focus to her and fish out the parking ticket.
“Despite what my brother may have you think, I’m here to get my father’s expertise on a few things. Money might not be everything, but I wouldn’t mind having more of it, and I thought maybe I could get a little savvier on investments.”
Allison studies me for a whole second that seems to drag on for an hour. Her deep red lipstick puckers as she chews at the end of her gold pen. She finally slides my parking ticket along her desk and stamps it with the company’s logo.
“Here’s your get out of jail free card,” she says, sliding it back with her own smug smirk in place.
Okay, so maybe she’s a little pissed off.
I might not be able to charm her the way I did when I was younger, but I’m not going to let her pull a power trip on me either.
I know what this is about. I’m not good enough for her daughter.
Well, she’s not either. And if she pushes me too far, I might just let everyone know my reasons for feeling that way.
“Believe me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that jail isn’t free,” I say, meeting her gaze. I hold it hostage while I slip the parking validation into my wallet for safekeeping. “Is the big guy in?”
Allison breathes in slowly and glances at Caleb.
“Get in line,” she says, nodding toward my brother.
My brother rolls his eyes, which only makes me chuckle. I follow my brother to the pair of leather chairs outside my father’s office. His eyes keep shifting from me to anything else, and after sitting next to him in pure silence for five minutes, I finally start to laugh.
“It bugs you that much that Saylor’s into me.”
His eyes dim, and his head tilts as he shakes with a single silent laugh.
“She’s not into you. You’re a rebound. A distraction before college.” He almost sounds convinced.
“Maybe,” I say, leaving it at that.