14. Jasper
FOURTEEN
JASPER
I stepped out of the elevator, taking a moment to look out over the town I’d grown up in. I wasn’t sure why I was here—it wasn’t like I was about to spill my secrets to my mum, but I needed a friendly face, and she had this way of always saying the right thing, even when she didn’t have the whole story. Plus, I was just down the road. I’d spent the day diving after I managed to jump on a boat going out today. I felt relaxed for the first time in... well, since I’d left Ecuador, but the last few days were playing on my mind again, and I could do with a hug from someone who wouldn’t ask questions.
I didn’t come up to see my mum at work very often, so I was always pleasantly surprised by the view that you couldn’t get from anywhere other than Lanton House, as the town had only let one high-rise building be built.
The penthouse was sleek—black gloss tiles covered the walls and floors, floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of the space, and three large offices filled the other. I walked to Mum’s office, but it sat empty, as did the reception desk.
“Can I help you?” A familiar face appeared in the doorway of the middle office.
“Mr Lanton, I’m Jasper Fischer. I was looking for my mum.”
I remembered Thomas Lanton as a scary mother-fucker in a suit. I never understood what Ma did for him, but she loved her job and she’d been doing it for most of my life, so I guess he did something worthy. He looked different, though; grey hair flecked his temples and his usual suit was replaced by a more casual t-shirt and dress pants, showing off his tattoo-covered arms.
“Jasper Fischer?” He stepped forward and held out his hand, shaking mine firmly when I offered it. “How did you get up here? Do you have the keycard?”
I frowned, shaking my head. “No, the receptionist told me to come up. She used to babysit me when I was little.”
He rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, this place has gone to the dogs since I retired. I need to have words.”
I laughed, folding my arms over my chest. “You’ve retired?”
He winked. “On paper, yes, but I’m not one for fishing and sitting around at home watching daytime TV.” Pointing to Mum’s office, he said, “Your mum’s away with Jax for a couple of days while they set up this charity do he’s hosting. Did they not tell you?”
I scrunched my nose guiltily. “Yes, she might have mentioned something. I’ve had a lot on my mind. Must have forgotten... or not listened, but let’s not tell her that.”
He chuckled, and I couldn’t believe the difference from the uptight, scary dude I remembered trying to avoid as a kid.
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, but thanks.”
Pointing to his office, he said, “Look, come and have a drink. It’ll be nice to hear about what you’ve been up to. Your mum is full of stories about your adventures.”
I glanced at my watch like I might have other plans, but in reality, the idea of going home and being left alone with my thoughts about what happened with Travis and then the moment in my office with Finn filled me with dread.
“Yeah, a drink might be nice. Thanks.”
I followed him in and he went to a cupboard at the back, taking out two glasses and a bottle of something dark. “Whisky okay? I would offer you a coffee, but I swear, the bloody machine hates me.”
“Whisky sounds perfect,” I replied with a chuckle.
I stood awkwardly as he poured and then placed both glasses on the coffee table, surrounded by armchairs and a sofa. Thomas took one of the chairs, reaching for his drink before crossing his ankle over his knee.
“Sit, Jasper. I won’t bite.”
I took a seat on the sofa and reached for my glass, taking a large mouthful and coughing as it burned down my throat like I’d never had a drink before.
“That bad, eh?” Thomas asked.
“You have no idea,” I said, regretting it instantly. I had become a dab hand at pushing my feelings down, ignoring them, but now, I felt like everything was spilling over and I couldn’t seem to rein any of it in or unpick what exactly was going on in my head.
“You could tell me.”
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. I mean, it couldn’t be that easy, could it? Nothing else was working, so I decided to give it a try.
“Have you ever spent so long pretending to be something you’re not that you have no clue who you are anymore?”
He put down his drink. “Yes.”
“Oh.” I didn’t expect him to say that. “And?”
He looked at me for a moment, as if he was weighing up how much to tell me. “When I was a kid, my mum was murdered while I hid in my room.”
His admission took me by surprise. “Shit,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “It was a long time ago, but my dad never forgave me for not trying to protect her, and he sent me to boarding school. I never saw him again. I was eight.”
“Sorry. That is... God, that’s fucked up. My problems aren’t?—”
He didn’t let me finish. “I’m not telling you so you pity me or think my life is worse. It’s not. I wouldn’t be married or be a dad without my past. I’m telling you because that was the start of me believing I had to live a certain way... do a particular job, wear certain things, behave in an ‘acceptable’ way because that was what was expected of me.”
“That makes sense,” I replied before taking a smaller sip of my drink, the burn warming me this time, somewhat soothing the ache in my chest.
“It worked for a while. I built a successful business, I built this place...” he waved his hand around the building with his name on it, “but I was miserable. So caught up in the facade I was insistent I had to keep in place that I almost lost everything.”
“What changed?”
“Love.” He chuckled, which made me smile. “Sounds corny, but it wasn’t just finding love, it was believing I was worthy of it.”
I huffed out my agreement.
“Look, I’m sure your mum would be much better at this than me, but for what it’s worth, can I give you some advice?”
“Please.”
“You get one life. Make sure you spend it being happy. Don’t say yes to things that don’t set your soul alight, don’t eat crappy food or put up with rubbish friends, don’t do something because you feel like you should, don’t ever try to fit into someone else’s idea of what’s right. Your only purpose in life is to make sure you’re happy. If you’re not hurting anyone, then you can do it.”
I turned my attention to the view outside. “I don’t think I’m happy in one tiny part of my life.”
Thomas made a noise like he’d been hit and I twisted to look at him. “That’s a big thing to admit. Does your mum know you feel like this?”
I shook my head.
“So, now you know you’re not happy, you’re the only one who can make changes. They can be big changes that start an avalanche or they can be tiny shifts that ultimately will rock the foundations of your life. If you could do something today... no matter how small, what would you do?”
An idea popped into my mind. It was underhanded and not at all me, but it would give me more time to work out what the hell was going on. “Actually, I know exactly what to do.” I stood, straightening my jeans, before I looked at Thomas. “Thank you.”
He stood too. “You’re welcome.”
He walked me to the lift, pressing his keycard to the reader that opened the door. I stepped inside and held my hand against the door so it couldn’t close. “Can I just ask... was it easy? To change? To work out who you were under everything?”
He shook his head. “No. I had to lose everything to show me what was important.” I frowned. “But now ask me if it was worth it?”
He twisted his wedding ring as I asked him, “Was it worth it?”
“Absolutely.”
I dropped my hand and offered him a nod of thanks before the doors closed and the lift carried me down to the ground floor. As I walked back outside, I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed out an email. One I knew Travis Jones was going to be pissed about.