Page 95 of Devoured By You
My father’s lips thinned as he sat back down. “Smart girl, Jill. A woman like that, son… you’re a fool to let her slip through your fingers.”
“Dad, you know why I broke things off. I couldn’t allow her career to go down the toilet along with mine. But she did something to me that I… I can’t forgive.”
Dad’s eyebrows met in the middle. “What did she do?”
I got up and went over to the bookshelf lining one wall in my office. I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t burned the damn thing yet. Maybe I’d kept it for an occasion just like this one. I tossed the book onto the desk in front of Dad.
“She wrote a novel, but it’s far from fiction. She took the worst time in my life and used it to make money.”
He picked up the book, turning it over in his hands, then flicked through the pages. “Is it obvious it’s about you?”
“To me, yeah.”
“What about to those outside the circle?”
I hitched a shoulder. “Probably not. But that’s not the point, Dad.”
“Oh? Then what is the point?”
Was he being purposely obtuse? “She shouldn’t have fucking written it!” I roared, anger bubbling to the surface. Dad was supposed to be on my side. “Not without asking me first.”
“Don’t a lot of writers pull on their own experiences to craft interesting stories? Does she make you look bad?”
“No idea. I only skimmed a few chapters. But I got the gist.”
Dad rubbed his forehead. “I’m confused. You’re annoyed because Jill wrote about her shared experience with you, even though only you and maybe a handful of close confidants would know it was you. And you’ve made this leap based on a novel you haven’t even read?”
I fell silent. He didn’t understand.
“What’s the general premise of the book?”
A shrug rolled over my shoulders. “Love story, I guess.”
“Hmm.” Dad opened the book. “Lovely dedication.”
“You think?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Dad put the book back down. “Son, for a genius, you can be a dumbass at times.”
The ridge of my back straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that a woman you’d only known a few days stood by you after you were shot. She stayed by your side in that hospital every day for two weeks. She returned home with you, leaving her own home and country behind her. She nursed you back to health, and even when you were an impossible grouch, she didn’t waver in her love for you. To thank her for her loyalty, you dumped her, which, by the way, I didn’t agree with. In response, she wrote a love story about her time together with you, dedicated it to you, sent you a beautiful, signed copy, and you’re the one who’s mad at her?” He shook his head. “She’s the one who has every right to be mad, not you.”
“She should have asked me,” I reiterated, my mouth on the verge of a pout I was far too old to pull off. I thought Dad would be on my side, that he’d agree with my outrage. How wrong could I be?
“And if she had, what would you have said?”
“No.”
“Precisely.” He got up once more. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to go down to that place by the waterfront I like, have a nice dinner and a bottle of good wine, and enjoy the sunset. And you’re going to tell me how you plan to get yourself back to the man you once were so that you’re worthy of begging that wonderful girl for forgiveness.”
Chapter 34
Jill
Time to face the music.
Four months later…