Page 45 of The Usual Family Mayhem

“I promised Jackson’s mother I would remain actively involved in his life.” Harlan delivered a solemn nod. “She was only days away from dying, and I wanted her to know I’d heard her. That I would make Jackson my life’s priority, and I did.”

Damn.Talk about overplaying his hand. Harlan’s words came wrapped in a thick layer of bullshit. I wanted to ask if his then-girlfriend had been in the room when he made this supposed promise to his sick wife, but I refrained.

Jackson had been nineteen when all of this allegedly happened. He was a lot older now. A fact Harlan conveniently ignored. “Jackson is a grown man and a pretty smart one.”

“About most things but not everything.” Harlan hesitated just long enough to hammer home that he was trying to make a big, important point. “Not everyone.”

There was nothing subtle about that.

“Just think about what I said.” Harlan dropped the line and walked away.

The man did like a dramatic exit.

The crowd in the room parted to give him a straight path to the door. No wonder his ego was so big. People treated him like royalty.

Harlan. Harlan. Harlan. So deluded. I’d only been in town for a few days. Even I couldn’t ruin Jackson’s future in that short amount of time.

I had so many questions. Jackson was stuck with me for dinner now because I intended to show up at his condo in search of answers. We had a lot to talk about.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I dressed up for dinner. By that I mean I didn’t wear lounge pants, though I was tempted. This time of night called for napping on the couch, bad television, and a gooey dessert. I went with a T-shirt dress. It literally looked and fit like an overly long tee. It matched the bargain white sneakers I’d picked because heels were an unnecessary burden placed on women by the fashion industry.

My life got much easier and less painful once I came up with that justification for dumping uncomfortable shoes.

Jackson, of course, beat me at this adult game, too. He outdressed me. He’d taken off his navy suit jacket and rested it on one of the dining room chairs. A chair at the table with dishes set and a candle burning.

This guy knew how to woo. Not that he was wooing me, but I could see from this setup that he’d perfected hisdinner with theladiesgame. Not bad for a man who worked twenty hours a day.

He set a glass of white wine on the kitchen island in front of me and turned back to the stove. From this vantage point I saw the way his white dress shirt tugged across his shoulders as he fiddled with a pan. He moved around, flipping this and adding that, showing off his cooking skills and a few other attributes.

That running nonsense worked for him.

Both the promise of food and the man lured me in. Speaking of dinner... The feast smelled like pan-fried chicken was the star. A salad peeked out of a bowl on the counter. I approved of the combo.

We’d known each other forever but being here, at his house like this, unsettled me. Not in an uncomfortable way. More like diving into the unknown. My tongue felt too big for my mouth. Every move I made came off as fumbling and awkward. The chance of me tripping or falling or doing something else equally ego-deflating increased with each second.

This was Jackson. The guy I grew up around. The one who rolled his eyes at me and viewed me as a natural disaster making landfall on his turf. Yet, I wanted to be here. That said something about my personality. I would unpack and assess that later, back in DC. Away from his pull.

A thousand conversation starters flipped through a Rolodex in my brain. Without thinking it through I landed on the one sure to mess up the peaceful calm of the kitchen. “I have a question for you.”

Jackson smiled at me over his shoulder. “Shoot.”

Was the dimple new? The cute butt, impressive shoulders, and adorable face already kicked my ass. I didn’t need new reasons to conjure up an image of him in my muddled mind.

I took a fortifying gulp of wine. “Why does your dad think I’m a nuisance?”

Jackson laughed. “Well, as long as it’s an easy question.”

“I’m serious.” The conversation hadn’t started that way. I’d asked to break the silence before it had the chance to turn uncomfortable. The quieter the room, the more likely I’d rush in and say the wrong thing. But this suddenly mattered. I wantedto know what I’d done to make Harlan put on a fake smile to hide a snarl every time he saw me.

Jackson switched off the burner and moved the pan off the residual heat. When he turned, the starkness of his expression said I wasn’t going to like his answer.

“He’s not an easy man. He doesn’t always come off as genuine,” Jackson said.

That was not a Quaid family secret. “No kidding.”

“If it’s any consolation, he’s annoyed with me right now, too.”

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