"Thank you, sir," I reply as I walk out into the hallway and make my way to my car. I feel like I'm in a daze and everything is foggy. My father wouldn't lie to me, would he? If he thought I might be passed up for the position because of Jake, could he really be so manipulative?
I drive straight to his building downtown, but instead of my dad's office, I knock on the open door of his assistant's. Holly's head snaps up from her computer and her eyes widen in surprise.
"Um, hi, Addison. Can I help you with something? I think your dad is in a meeting."
After shutting her door I step farther into the room to quietly ask the question weighing on me so that the whole office doesn't hear.
"When was the last time you slept with Jake?" I ask, using the term "slept" loosely instead of a much cruder word.
"Oh," she mutters before her face reddens. "You want to know about me, and ah, Jake?"
"Yes. Please. When was it?"
"Ah, the last time he was here I guess."
"How recently was that?" I ask, silently praying it wasn't last week.
"A few weeks ago, maybe? I don't know the date, just that it was a Saturday when we were closed."
"When I was here signing paperwork?" I ask hopeful. When she nods I almost explode with relief. "So not last week?"
"No," she says with a crease forming between her eyebrows. "I haven't seen or talked to him since."
"Thank God," I exhale and collapse down into a nearby chair. "My dad told me he was here last week and that you...you know, in a conference room."
"What?" she asks. "No, it definitely wasn't last week. We only dated for a few days before you and he signed the contract."
“You dated?” I ask in surprise.
“Well, um, yeah. He told me about the owner wanting him to get a girlfriend, so we went out a couple of times. Until your dad found out.”
“My dad? What do you mean?”
“He told us he’d fire me if we didn’t stop seeing each other. Then the next day you were signing the contract, and I haven’t talked to him since.” When she shyly pushes a strand of hair behind her ear she looks so embarrassed that I believe her. My dad blackmailed her and Jake, then lied to me for a job and a hundred thousand dollars. How could he?
"Where is he?" I ask Holly.
"A meeting in the large conference room."
Well, if he wants to disrupt my life, then I'm going to disrupt his.
"Wait, Addison. It's an important-"
She tries to stop me, but I don't slow down. I get angrier with each step I take and don't bother to knock on the door before busting in. All the heads turn to look at me but I don't care.
"Addison? Is everything okay?" My dear old dad asks before standing up.
"No, it's not. It was okay, but you had to screw it up. Jake was right about you all along."
He quickly grabs my arm and ushers me out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Like that will keep those men from hearing this conversation.
"Look, Addison. The shrink position with the Wildcats is a huge break for you. It's more important than some asshole who's going to screw around on you and hurt you."
"You've hurt me more than that asshole ever has!" I yell.
"I'm sorry," he says automatically.
"No, you're not. And that's a real shame, that you can't see how fucked up what you did was to me, to Holly, to Jake. You manipulate everyone to get what you want without thinking about the consequences. I used to think that made you a great attorney, but now I know it just makes you a scheming liar."
"I just want what's best for you."
"What's best for me is to let me make my own decisions. I'm not a child, and it's time for you to stop treating me like one."
"You're right," he concedes, rubbing his temple like I'm giving him a migraine. Good, I hope I am.
"I know I'm right. Jake is a good man, and now you're going to have to fix what you've broken," I tell him.
Chapter Nineteen
Jake
Sunday's home game is sold out, the crowd roaring as soon as we run out of the tunnel. Once the visiting team, the San Diego Sharks, take the field everyone stands for the National Anthem, turning toward the flag that flies high above the scoreboard on the north side of the field. That’s when I see them. Two jerseys with the numbers eighty-six and my last name hang from the billboard, slightly swaying in the wind. Enormous jerseys by the look of them, since I'm able to make out the lettering so clearly. What the hell? I glance up and down the sidelines at my teammates who have their hands over their hearts and are all avoiding eye contact with me.
Then the announcers voice booms through the stadium.