Page 33 of Go Deep

I turn on my heel, my heart clenching tighter with each step away from him.

Fucking rejection. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to escape it.

Chapter 14

Vince

Dad opens the front door, and I bite back a smile. Always camera-ready. You’d never look at him, dressed in a starched button-down and navy pants, his hair slicked back, face clean-shaven, and guess he just had a heart attack.

But that’s the idea.

It’s all about perception, and everyone’s counts — even mine.

Speaking of perception, I wonder if Bob got into his ear about me and Gabe at the event the other night.

“I picked up some groceries for you.” I step inside the house and carry the bags into the kitchen. I sniff the air, then twist to lift an eyebrow at him.

“What are you making?”

His plastic smile falters, like he knows he’s been caught.

“It’s a petite filet mignon.” His face flushes a deep red. “One of my constituents sent over a meal from my favorite restaurant and I’m heating it up. I swear I was only going to have one bite.”

“One of your constituents? Someone must want you dead and off the trail.” I shake my head and pull items out of the bags.

“The vegetables are steamed, and the salad is plain. No dressing.”

I let out a sigh and run my hand over the back of my neck. “You’re an adult. I’m not going to police your meals. But Jesus, Dad. You could be dead right now. Is the damn steak worth it?”

Dad sinks into a chair at the kitchen table. His shoulders slump and he leans forward into his hands. “I don’t want to be treated like I’m made of glass. And I don’t want to think of myself as the man who needs to be treated that way.”

“You need to stop being so afraid of what people are going to think. Who gives a shit if you need to take a break for a little while? Or that you need to eat egg whites and plain wheat toast? It doesn’t make you less of a man or less of a qualified candidate.”

“You don’t understand. People will look at me differently. They’ll always wonder when the next one will happen, if one day, I’ll just suddenly drop dead from another one.”

“And eating the steak will show them they’re wrong?” I roll my eyes.

He shrugs. “I wanted to feel normal.”

“How about we just focus on feeling alive?” I clap a hand on his shoulder. “One step at a time. Give your body a break.”

The fucking irony. He doesn’t want people to see him as being weak, so he decides to eat a steak that will clog his damn arteries and cause more damage to his heart.

“Fine.” He pushes the chair back. The legs scrape against the tile floor, the sound echoing in the sullen silence. With a plate piled high with steamed vegetables, he returns to the table and sits down to glare at his meal.

“You look dressed up.” He stabs a carrot with his fork and stuffs it into his mouth.

“Yeah, I’m meeting Eva for dinner. That little Tuscan place over on Eighteenth Street.”

Dad looks up, his jaw tensing. “I know the one. It’s my opponent’s favorite.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be inviting him to eat with us.”

He tosses the fork onto the plate with a loud clink. “I should be out, making people see why they can trust in me and the party. The more time I’m cooped up here, out of sight and out of mind, my lead narrows. Janie sent me some polling numbers today.” He sweeps a hand over his head. “I can’t let them forget about me, about why I’ll be the best one to lead.”

I didn’t come here for a therapy session. That’s Eva’s bag, not mine. And God only knows, he gave me enough of a complex growing up to deserve this kind of karma in return.

But instead of looking and sounding like the ruthless prick I know as Dad, he’s broken and the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him…even after we lost Mom. He never showed any emotion, never let anyone know what he was thinking or feeling. He could bottle it all up, and nobody could accuse him of falling apart if he never showed a sliver of vulnerability to anyone.

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