27. June
27
JUNE
W hen I get to my office, he’s there, standing outside. “Junebug?—"
“Not a word,” I order and barge past him, ushering him in. Once he’s inside, I shut my door as quietly as my anger will allow. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Thanks for not letting my little impropriety slip?—"
“A little impropriety? Is that what you call forging an email introduction?”
He gives me that, “Aw shucks,” look that has gotten him out of and into trouble more times than I can count. “You were sick, and what kind of father bothers his sick daughter just for an email? That’s downright cruel. Monstrous. How could I possibly do such a thing to you?”
“Of course,” I gripe as I start to pace my office. “The old make-it-sound-like-you-did-me-a-favor, instead of making it sound like what it was. You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
“How long?”
His brows draw down. “How long what?”
“How long have you been planning this?”
“Planning? What are you talking about, Junebug?”
“Don’t call me that!” I snarl in his face. “That nickname is reserved for use by the man who I call Dad. You’re not him anymore, Mitch! You’re the bastard who pretended to give a shit about his daughter long enough to use her to get to Andre. So tell me, Mitch, how long have you been planning this? Weeks? Months? Or did you see an opportunity and jump on it last minute, the way you used to jump on women?”
His facade shakes, and lines form on his face in hurt. I might have actually struck him with that one. There’s no guile in his tone when he says, “June, I didn’t use you.”
I’d love to believe that. It would mean the past month of lunches with Dad haven’t been built on bullshit and that he really was trying to turn his life around. But I’ve been hurt by him too many times to be suckered in now. “Yes, you did. How did you even make the email look right? Andre isn’t dumb enough to open something from an account he doesn’t recognize—wait.” It’s falling into place. The tech firm he works for is full of guys who could have done it. “Did you have one of your coworkers break into my email?”
He swallows, “Now, June, you’re upset?—"
“Don’t tell me what I am! Tell me the truth!”
“I had a friend make some arrangements, so it looked legit?—"
I laugh, shaking my head as he rambles on.
“But I only did it so I didn’t have to bother you, honey. You know me. I left a life of crime behind me. I’m trying to do the right thing these days, and I’m not always going to get it right, but I’m still trying. You make it sound like I did something wrong by not bothering you.”
I close my eyes because I can’t even look at him right now. “So, what you’re saying is, you broke the law to avoid annoying your daughter. That’s your excuse for this?”
“There’s a law about that?”
“Yes!”
“Well, I apologize.”
I laugh. The sincerity in his voice is genuinely funny to me. “You apologize and poof? Nothing’s wrong? Is that how you think this works?”
“What can I do to make it up to you?”
“Oh, so now it’s my responsibility to come up with your penance?”
“I don’t mean it that way?—"
“You could have cost me my job, Dad! Do you get that? You still could!”
He sighs. “Come on. You know I’d never do anything to put you in jeopardy.”
Another laugh pops right out of me. “Do I know that? Because I seem to remember a childhood where you did exactly that, over and over, ruining any chance I ever fucking had at a normal life.”
His lines and wrinkles deepen, and for once, I can see the years on him. I can’t tell if it’s sadness or guilt that coats his voice, but whatever it is, he’s good at making it sound like I should feel bad for him. “You’re right about that. I’d like to say I’m a different man now, but I’m still the man who did those things, and I thought you’d started to forgive me for them. But I guess I’m wrong about that, huh?”
“If I thought that any of this was sincere, then yeah, I would have forgiven the shit you pulled back then. The abuse, the selfishness, the way you acted like me and Mom weren’t shit to you. But you hijacked my email and went behind my back to meet my boss, which means you’re up to something, and it will ruin my career. So, no, Mitch , I don’t forgive you. I don’t accept that you’re some new man because all I see in front of me is the same bastard who broke my mother’s heart and is setting up to do the same to his daughter.”
“What do you think I’m up to, June? Tell me that. Aside from befriending your boss, the only other thing you seem to be hung up on is the email part of things, and I’ve apologized for that, so really, this is on you.”
“Befriending him? At lunch, you told me you had a multimillion-dollar business proposition for him.” I smirk up at Mitch. “So, which is it? Friends or business?”
“Now you sound like your mother.”
I shake my head, smiling. “You were always one hell of a gas lighter, and I see that hasn’t changed, either.”
“You know something? You could stand to do more to ingratiate yourself with Andre. Your father befriending him will go a long way for your career. It’s called networking, June. Something you can’t easily do from your high horse.”
“Oh, so not only did you do me a favor by hijacking my email, but now you’re helping my career? What, out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Friends go into business with each other all the time. I don’t know why you’re making such a federal case out of it.”
My fingers ball into fists as I count to ten. It doesn’t really help. It just leaves me with two fists and ten more seconds of anger. “What business are you getting into with Andre?”
“I didn’t say I was getting into business with Andre. I just said I could help you with your career by befriending him. You are so paranoid?—"
“Don’t.” The word comes out hard like steel. He says this to me now? After all the years, I heard him call Mom paranoid when she confronted him about another pair of panties in his car, or another bill that showed up marked “Past due,” or any number of people who stopped her in the supermarket and asked what he was doing with their money. He told her she was paranoid, that he had things under control, and to stop snooping around. That shit was not going to cut it with me.
“Whatever you’re doing with Andre, it ends now. You two are not friends. You’ll never be friends. You’ll never be business associates, either. Andre Moeller is my boss. I do not want my personal life and my professional life to cross. Ever. I am drawing this line in the sand. If you cross it, we are done. For good. Forever. I have never asked you for a thing in my life, but I am asking you for this. Prove to me that you want me in your life by giving me this.”
His jaw clenches. “I want you to think about what you’re saying, June. You’re telling me you think so little of me that you can’t trust me not to screw things up for you here. Do you understand how hurtful that is?”
“If you can’t do one simple thing for me, then I guess we’re done.”
“You are a grown woman. Ultimatums do not become you.”
I laugh. “You are a grown man. Bullshit does not become—oh wait. Maybe it does.”
He sighs, shaking his head at me. He looks defeated, but I know better. There is nothing that puts him down for long. With a heavy tone, he says, “I am so sorry for everything I did that’s made you become this cynical. I did a number on you, and I am sorry, kiddo.”
His apology is as hollow as I feel right now. “We’re done here. You can go.”
His lips smash into a flat line of disappointment, then he pats my shoulder. “I’ll give you a couple of days to think about what you said. You’re still getting better from your cold, and I’m sure that’s playing a part in how you’re being right now. All that attitude. Maybe give me a call this weekend when you’ve got your head on straight.”
I shrug his hand off. “Thought you had a playdate with Andre.”
“Not if it costs me you.” Then he walks out.
Whatever strength I had is gone when the door closes. It’s easy to be stubborn and angry when we’re face to face, but now I’m just a girl who wishes she had a normal dad. I crumble onto my couch. I’m on the verge of tears, somewhere between sadness, regret, and pure anger. I know for a fact he didn’t want to meet with Andre for shits and giggles. He already let slip that he’s got to land some big account for his firm and that he wants Andre. My father is a liar, a cheat, and a criminal. What the fuck was I thinking by letting him back into my life?
I try some deep breathing to relax, but it’s no use. I feel like a firework with a smoldering fuse. All I need is someone else to fan the flame.