Page 60 of The Enemy Plot
A frown clouds her features as she picks up. “Papa? Tout va bien?” She wanders toward the kitchen, pacing as she talks to him in French.
After a while, she hangs up and circles back to the couch. “Sorry,” she says, sitting back down next to me. “It was my dad.”
“Yeah, I got that much. But isn’t it the middle of the night in France?”
“Yup.” She chuckles. “It’s four a.m., but he just learned I was dating an older guy, so it couldn’t wait.”
“Oh.” My body tenses. The fact that Maxime might not be over the moon about me dating his sister did cross my mind, but I hadn’t even thought about her dad. We don’t have that big of an age gap, but still. If Lola were dating—who am I kidding? I’d kill any guy who even approached her. That’s not the best comparison. Either way, I might be a dead man.
“He’s fine with it,” she says, shrugging it off. “A little disappointed you’re not a hockey player, but you scored some points with the hockey bar.”
I chuckle. “Well, that’s something.”
“Don’t worry. My family is cool. Plus, they live far away.”
“Yeah,” I mumble as my own family seeps into my thoughts. Only the usual feeling of guilt doesn’t come along with it.
“Sorry.” She winces. “I wasjust—”
“Don’t apologize,” I say, wrapping an arm around her. “You can talk about your family all you want. I think I’m handling things better now. I open up more in therapy, and it helps.”
“Good,” she says softly. “I’ve been wondering about your dad. Where is he now?” she asks, then quickly adds, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
I squeeze her against me. “It’s fine.” Clearing my throat, I say, “He’s in prison. He already had a record before the accident, including a few DUI charges, so they locked him up for a long time.”
“You’ve had no contact with him since then?”
“No . . . Well, I guess that’s not technically true,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “He called from prison. It wasn’t the first time he rang me up at the bar. I never picked up his collect calls, but this time, I figured he was probably calling because he’d heard the news about Amelia. Thing is, he had no clue. He was only calling because his parole hearing was coming up, and he wanted me to speak in his favor.” As if I would ever say a decent thing about him when the man pretty much destroyed my life.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” she murmurs, twisting her mouth.
“Thanks. But I’m fine now. Better.”
“I’m here for you if you need me,” she says, her expression serious.
I tighten my arm around her and kiss her temple. “I know you are.”
Alice
Deacon and I have been officially dating for almost two weeks, but it feels like forever. We already have a routine. We text in the morning, steal a kiss when he returns from dropping Lola off, and have lunch together. I spend most of my nights with him at the bar, helping him out.
Today, I’m working at the bookstore with Hayley while Emma meets with our lawyer about the contract the production company sent over. We talked with SilverScreen on the phone last week, and it’s a very real offer with very real compensation. We just want to understand all the fine print before signing anything, but we’re thrilled by this new opportunity. At least, Hayley and I are. Emma is just being her grumpy self, insisting that they’ll probably screw us over in some way.
I bid a happy customer goodbye, and my chest fills with warmth the way it always does when someone leaves thestore with a smile on their face and books in their arms, eager to dive into their To Be Read pile.
Just when the door closes, it opens again. This time, it’s my giant of a brother crossing the threshold.
“Hey, sis,” he says, sauntering over to give me a hug. “What’s up?”
“Hey, you. Ready for playoffs?”
He smirks. “You bet.”
Hayley, who’s talking with a customer near the YA section, waves at him and signals that she’ll be right over.
He waves back, then leans against the counter. “So, I heard you’re dating Deacon.”
I roll my eyes. “That news is two weeks old, Maxime. You’re the one who told Dad, remember?”