Chapter 28
"This is going to sound a little crazy," I said.
"Trust me, nothing in regard to my father could sound any crazier than it actually is."
I told her about Flynn and the biopic.
She lifted a surprised eyebrow. "You're making a movie about his life?”
"It sure looks that way."
"Well, do me a favor?” she asked in a sharp voice.
"What's the favor?”
"Would you please tell the full story in an honest light. Don't paint him a hero. You should expose the real man, not the legend.”
“The real man?”
“The reckless, selfish, 60-year-old man-child who cheated on my mother and broke our family apart. Mickey only thinks of himself. Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me. That’s all he thinks about. How about you put that in your movie?”
"Well, I'm not sure that would sell at the box office," I said.
Kendra scoffed. "That sounds like real drama to me.
A gritty role that some actor could sink their teeth into.
But no, you're going to make him out to be an antihero.
Let me guess, somewhere in the third act, he's going to have a realization and come to terms with his lifestyle and make a change.
Everything is going to be okay in the end.
He will have triumphed over his inner demons.
Meanwhile, his real life is in shambles. "
I shrugged. "Well, that's basically how all biopics go. Rise to the top of the world, then hit rock bottom, then a self-realization. The hero emerges from the journey wiser and stronger."
An annoyed laugh escaped her lips. "Mickey is as stupid now as he ever was.” Genuinely disturbed, she said, "Are you really going to work with him?”
“I’ve committed to the project. I don’t ever go back on my word. I’m sorry you find that objectionable.”
She looked incensed. “You know, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
I gave her a dismissive look. “You’re not really upset with me because I’m working with your father?”
“Yes, I am. You’re a cop. What are you doing glorifying his lifestyle?”
“I’m not glorifying anything.”
“Oh, yes, you are. Flynn is going to make my father look sexy and charming and carefree. His life will appear daring and adventurous. It might as well be a recruitment poster for drug smuggling.”
“The film will showcase the fall from grace and the consequences of that lifestyle.”
“People will forget about that. They’ll only remember the cool parts. You realize he stole money from the Colombian cartel? There’s been a contract on his life all these years.”
“Well, he’s still around.”
Our waitress showed up to take our order. She put on a cheery smile. “I’m Macey. How are you doing today?”
“I’m leaving, actually,” Kendra said as she slid out of the booth.
I looked at the waitress, and she cringed.
“Excuse me for a second,” I said before chasing after Kendra. “Hey, hold up. I didn’t expect you to run away from a confrontation.”
She kept walking toward the door. “I’m not running. I’m walking. And if you’ve agreed to work with my father, that means you’re a poor judge of character.”
“I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character, actually,” I said, trying to sound modest.
She stopped for a moment. “I’m just going to save us the trouble. I don’t want anything to do with my father or any of his friends. It’s just that simple.” She hesitated a moment, then spun around and walked off.
The conversation had drawn quite a few stares.
“I guess I’ll see you at the track,” I said, calling after her.
She ignored me and pushed through the doors.
I shrugged to my impromptu audience before leaving.
The sidewalk bustled with tourists strolling up and down the boulevard. Kendra was already at the corner. I didn’t bother chasing after her.
It was too bad. She was growing on me. I liked Mickey, but there were obviously some deep-seated issues between them. It wasn’t my place to judge. I just hoped that someday they could fix things before it was too late.
I left Oyster Avenue and headed back to Diver Down. I took a seat at the bar and shot the breeze with Teagan. By that time, I was pretty hungry. I ordered a mushroom cheeseburger, a basket of sweet potato fries, and washed it all down with a Diet Coke.
Harlan took his usual seat at the end of the bar, nursing a longneck.
"I can't believe the Five Fathoms got ripped off today," Teagan said. "At least you got those guys.”
"All but one," I said.
"Think you'll get him?"
"I'm cautiously optimistic," I said with a grin.
"And what were you doing at the Five Fathoms today? Hot lunch date?" she asked, fishing.
"I’d call it more of a business meeting.”
"Business, huh?” she said with doubtful eyes.
"Have you seen Flynn or JD?"
"They haven't been in today. What's Flynn doing in town?”
I gave her the story.
"That sounds interesting. I want to meet him.”
“If you’re lucky,” I said with a wink.
“You know they say there's $150 million—“
"I know.”
She leaned in with intrigued eyes. "Is it true?”
I shrugged. "Mickey is kinda cagey about that.”
"I would be too. Shit, if I get that kind of money, I'm not telling a soul. But there will be signs."
I chuckled.
My phone buzzed with a call from Tiffany. I excused myself and answered. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Madison?”
Teagan lifted an intrigued eyebrow and leaned in close to hear.
I shooed her away.
She gave me a playful scowl, then shuffled down the bar to attend to another customer.
"You've got your hands full," Tiffany said. "I saw you on the news. It's a shame about the Five Fathoms. Is there nothing sacred around here anymore?”
"I suppose not."
"Well, I just wanted to give you a heads up. I'll be doing a photo shoot this afternoon for Haute Lumière Magazine.”
It was a premier fashion rag.
"Sounds exciting," I said.
"Should be fun. You're welcome to join. You, JD, and Flynn. I think that would be a hoot.”
"Something to consider.”
"I'll send you a text with all the details. But I just wanted to let you know ahead of time so you don’t get the wrong impression.
Since my husband left me with nothing, I need to position myself moving forward financially.
You understand. The magazine called and offered a nice sum of money, and it would be great publicity going forward to promote my new brand. "
"What's your new brand?”