Brazen Bossman: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 59
“What happened here doesn’t change my respect for him. He’s sick. This disease is a monster, and he can’t control that any more than you can.”
I close my eyes when I feel her start to gently rub the back of my neck.
“We should get back to the house. I think we’ve both seen enough of the Hamptons for today. I’d like to be alone now.”
She pulls her hand away to focus on the app on her phone, and I miss the connection, her touch, immensely. It calmed my frazzled nerves and gave him something to focus on.
“Our ride will be here in six minutes. A lovely older gentleman named Howard in a green 2016 Honda Civic,” she says matter-of-factly, shoving her cell back into her bag.
“Very specific.”
“The advantages of modern technology.”
I watch her eye me closely, and it’s like I can almost feel her trying to think of what to say.
“What?”
“I can see your wheels turning from over here. Do you want to talk about it?” She reaches over and takes my hand.
Do I want to tell her about the falling out I had with my father? No. I don’t. My brain doesn’t want her to think less of me. I don’t want anyone to know about that night.
But the part of my heart that wants to rip itself open and bare it all for the first time in my life is fighting with my brain. That part is banging on the walls, screaming and shouting, looking for a way out so I can just tell this girl how I feel.
“Piper… I…”
Her phone dinging in her bag pulls her attention away from me.
“Ah. That must be Howard,” she says. “He is waiting out front.” I watch her stand, and she grows into a beautiful Italian giant from my angle. She catches me gawking and smiles. “What?”
“I’m just staring. That’s all.”
“Well, you can stare all you’d like. I don’t mind.” She takes my hand and helps me stand. “Let’s go.”
The entire ride to the house, Piper is chatting it up with our Lyft driver, Howard. He is a charming older man, who beams with pride talking about his grandchildren and his wife who passed away a few years ago.
To be honest, I’m happy he is keeping her attention.
A few moments of simply sitting quietly, being a bystander in a situation that isn’t chaos is something I need right now.
I stare out the window to watch the passing houses and children out for a bike ride. This area is known for its parties and over-the-top nature at times, but it’s also a place where families can come to escape their everyday lives.
The sun is high in the sky, given the nearing midday hour. The weather is perfect, for now, but there is an incoming storm according to Howard from the front seat.
One hell of a storm was the exact verbiage.
It’s kind of ironic, actually. An impending storm on the area. A brewing storm in my mind.
Life certainly has a way of being poetic, doesn’t it?
Chapter 22
Piper
Nathanial does not physically keep to himself for the rest of the afternoon, but he certainly does mentally.
We spend time on the beach, in the pool, and having drinks on the patio but he doesn’t really say much. He lets me do most of the talking, and while I’m usually okay with that, given the circumstances of our day and the fact I can see the scowl on his face, I know he’s keeping something inside.
“Would you like to help me cook dinner? I’m making carbonara and if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you know all the secrets,” I tease, hoping he will smile.
He finishes his third glass of whiskey since five o’clock and nods. “Sure. I can help.”
“All right then. Let’s go do that.” I stand from the sofa and take his hand, pulling him up. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“You don’t have to ask me that every hour, Piper. I’m fine.”
“Your actions would disagree.”
I shake my head and go into the kitchen with him hot on my heels, pulling out everything I need for our meal.
He follows in after me and instead of defending himself or even acknowledging what I said, he gets right to the task at hand.
“Tell me what you need me to do.”
I sigh heavily and point to the stove. “If you could start a pot of boiling water, that would be great.”
He moves on autopilot, like I’ve seen him do many times in the office when there is a storm brewing inside of his head.
Those days usually end in some kind of aggressive demand from him that winds up in a battle of wills between us, which I ultimately lose.
Oh well, I’m not going to let him just wallow and not address this shit head on. I wouldn’t want him to let me do the same thing.
“How long ago was your father diagnosed?” I ask him, as I begin to fry the pancetta.
He freezes for just a moment and I can see his shoulders stiffen but he shakes it off. “I’m not talking about this anymore, Piper.”
“Why? There is clearly a bigger issue at play. I guess I don’t understand why you’re so… against even speaking of it.”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it. It’s that simple. Leave it alone.” He places the pot on the stove a little too aggressively. The sound makes me jump, and really, it just pisses me off.
“You’re too hard on him and yourself. I don’t know what the history is between you, but I know your father…”
He laughs sarcastically and cuts me off. “You think you know my father. You don’t know shit.”
I take a couple steps back. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m doing nothing but standing here trying to have a conversation about something that is bothering you, and you’re tossing it in my face.”
“I don’t need you to try to fix me or my issues with my father. Stay the fuck out of it, Piper.”
He opens