Chapter Twenty-Seven
Marcus
T wo weeks after breaking the news to our friends, I walked into work on a Monday morning with a coffee in hand, nerves firing beneath the surface. Today’s the day I’m planting the seed about Gigi with my father, and I’ve barely slept. I spent the night tossing and turning, rehearsing the conversation in my head over and over again, hoping I wouldn’t stumble when the time came. I kept telling myself that once I got through this first talk, things would get easier, and maybe then, I’d actually get some sleep.
I drop my bag at my desk, grab my laptop, and head to the conference room for our usual Monday morning meeting. But today, it feels different—like everything rides on this one moment. Taking my seat in the usual spot, I open my laptop and try to steady my breathing, taking slow, deliberate inhales to calm my racing heart. Maybe all that coffee wasn’t such a great idea after all.
My father walks in and sits at the head of the table beside me. Opening his laptop, he begins, “I took a preliminary look at the numbers from last week, and Providence is looking good.”
I nod. “Full report on its way to you. It was a good week. Leslie is really strong at going after new business.”
He remains quiet as his eyes move back and forth across his screen. “Looks good, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I glance up at him because I can barely believe that he openly offered me praise.
“I don’t have much else to cover. We can get back to work if you’re done.”
I shift in my chair, my heart rate picking up. “There was one thing I wanted to ask.”
He finally looks at me. “Go ahead.”
“I wanted to see if you and mom would want to meet for dinner next weekend. There’s someone I want you to meet. Well, not really. You’ve already met her briefly. But someone I want you to get to know better.”
The corner of his mouth turns up the slightest bit. “Is this a woman?”
“Yes.”
“Someone I’ve met?”
“Yes, it’s Gigi. You might remember her from Jax and Audrey’s wedding.”
“The redhead?”
“Yes.”
“For some reason, I pictured you with a blonde.”
I peer at him, confused. “That’s odd.” I run my hand through my hair. “Gigi and I have become close, and I would like for you to spend some time with her.”
“I have to say, she’s a little rough around the edges.”
I narrow my eyes as anger rises in my chest from his words. “Excuse me?”
He puts his hand up to stop me. “Don’t go full defense, son. I’m sure you can help her become a bit more polished. If you’re dating her, yes, we can have dinner. Make a reservation for Saturday evening and send me the information.”
“Will do.”
He closes his laptop and rises from his chair. He stops before exiting the room. “I’m proud of you, son. You’re doing what needs to be done.”
After he walks out of the room, I let out a ragged breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. I run my hands slowly down my face as the guilt sets in.
The first time in years that my father told me that he was proud of me, and it had to be when I told him a lie.