Page 51 of Winning Bid

Before I can knock, I hear, “Come on in, Junebug.”

What the hairy fuck?

I throw the door open, and there, I find Andre sitting across from my father. It is all I can do to not shout at the man. My father, not Andre. Although, at the moment, I’m not sure who needs yelling at. They’re both all smiles as if they’ve been having a grand old time. It makes me want to rip them apart. No one should be having a good time right now. Not when my life is on the line.

But I clench my teeth and force a smile. “Dad, I didn’t know you were acquainted with Andre.”

He smiles, and I know that smile. It’s as fake as my own. “You don’t remember the introduction email you sent for me?”

With that one sentence, I know precisely what’s going on. Somehow, he sent an email, made it look as if I’d sent it, and gotten the introduction that he wanted. If I say anything right now, he’ll never forgive me, even though I’m not the one who needs forgiveness. I could ruin whatever deal he’s got going, and all I have to do is open my mouth and speak the truth. The truth has always been the one thing my father is afraid of. He must really trust me to think I won’t fuck him over for this.

But right now, I have enough of my own shit to deal with. I don’t want to deal with his, too, whatever that is. So, I suck it up. “Right, sorry. It must have been the fever that made me forget. I’m still catching up.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Dad says as he gets up. He shakes Andre’s hand. “Good seeing you again. We’ll have to do it on my yacht next time.”

Andre smiles and nods. “Splendid idea. I’ll bring the champagne and the,” he stops himself to look at me before meeting Dad’s eyes again, “entertainment.”

Women. He means women. Probably sex workers, by the tone in his voice.

Dad chuckles. “Deal. This weekend?”

“I can kill a few things off my calendar. Saturday it is.” Anyone else would have said, “Clear my calendar.” Not Andre. He wouldn’t say something so mundane as that. Or he actually meant to kill some things off his calendar in the literal sense. I was not dumb enough to ask.

“Sounds good. See you then.”

“Uh, Dad, can you hang back for a moment?”

“Junebug, I need to run?—"

“Hang back,” snaps out of me. But then I lose my tone. “Please? I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll meet you at your office.”

“Great.” He leaves, and I turn to Andre. “How can I help you?”

“Your father is quite a character.”

I smile. “He really, really is.”

“Did you know he saved a child from a burning building?”

No. Because he didn’t. “I may have heard the tale a time or twenty.”

He chuckles. “Or that he used to be a track star in college?”

My father never went to college. But I smile. “He’s had an interesting life.”

“Indeed. I understand the two of you had been estranged for a time. Why is that?”

None of your business. “Family is complicated.” I give a shrug, hoping he leaves it at that.

“Too true. My own father and I stopped speaking the moment I had him committed against his will. The old bastard never forgave me for that. It is as you said, family is complicated.”

I gulp. “Since we’re sharing, why commit someone against their will?”

“He was getting … troublesome. I don’t like trouble, June. You are level-headed like me, so I value your opinion. Is your father trouble?”

More than you know. How do I say this without saying it? “He’s boisterous and likes to stretch the truth. Sometimes, that gets him in trouble. But he’s not malicious.”

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