Page 169 of Role Play
“It’s not a legal proceeding per se,” I explain. “It’s a mediation.” It’s more of a hope-and-pray-Hannah’s-pulled-her-head-out-of-her-ass type deal. But that’s obviously a mouthful, so “mediation” it is.
I resume pacing, ignoring my mother’s grievous sigh. Taio and Saylor left to find lunch, promising they’d return before everything was over. Celeste departed shortly after Forrest’sarrival to a meeting she couldn’t miss, but not before pressing a business card into my hand with instructions to call her if we needed anything—“anything at all, darling”—delivered with a wink that suggested her resources were both substantial and discretionary. Daphne had to get back to work.
Now, it’s just my parents and me, waiting.
“I still don’t understand why Hannah would use Forrest’s past against him like this,” my dad says, finally setting his notepad aside. “What exactly did he do that’s so terrible?”
I gnaw the inside of my cheek, searching for words that will explain without revealing too much. “It’s complicated. Forrest had to take a job that some people might consider…morally gray. But it was legal,” I add quickly.Well, mostly.“Just not the kind of thing that looks good in custody proceedings.”
His eyebrows rise. “He wasn’t running drugs or something, was he?”
“No. Of course not.” I cross my arms defensively. “He was helping people. In his own way.”
“Hmm.” Dad taps his pen against his knee. “And now he’s looking for more conventional employment? That’s the issue?”
“That, and his financial situation.” I sigh, pulling at the ends of my hair. “He has a lot of debt from school, and without a steady income right now…”
“It makes him look unstable,” my father finishes for me. “At least in the eyes of a family court.”
“Exactly.” I sink into the chair beside my mom, suddenly exhausted. “It’s been nearly three weeks since he’s seen Dakota, Dad. It’s killing him. She’s everything to him.”
Mom squeezes my hand. “He sounds like a good father.”
“The best,” I confirm. “He’s always put her first, even when it meant making sacrifices. Even when it meant…”He’d resented it, but stayed in the profession to provide for his daughter. Butmy mouth clamps over the words. How can I sayanythingthat won’t beg more questions?
A thoughtful expression crosses my dad’s face. He stands abruptly, gathering his notepad and pen.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Upstairs,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “To the mediation.”
“What? No, Dad, you can’t.” I scramble to my feet. “It’s a closed proceeding. They won’t let you in.”
He’s already striding toward the elevators. “They’ll let me in.”
“Dad, seriously, you’ll just complicate things and make Forrest look bad.” But I’m already following him, knowing from experience that once J.P. Cooper sets his mind to something, there’s no dissuading him.
“What floor?” he asks as we reach the elevators.
“I—that’s not the point! You can’t just burst in there and?—”
“What floor, Sora?” he repeats, this time in Dad Voice.
I groan, recognizing defeat. “Third. Conference room three-twelve.”
The elevator ride is brief but tense. I try one more time to talk him out of whatever he’s conspiring, but he just smiles that infuriating smile—the one that’s graced author photos for decades, the one that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Trust me,” he says as the doors open. “I have a plan.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I mutter, following him down the hallway.
Outside conference room 312, I make one last desperate plea. “Dad, please. This is important. This is Forrest’s daughter we’re talking about.”
“I know.” He places a hand on my shoulder, his expression suddenly serious. “Let me help, Sora. For once in our complicated relationship, let me be the one to save the day.”
The sincerity in his tone stops me short. This is new territory for us—my father and I, trying to find our way back to each other after years of distance. I think of the work we’ve done onLegendary, the bridge we’ve started to rebuild.
“Okay,” I concede. “But please, be…” What’s the right word here? I want to say “not an ass,” but that seems too direct. “Civil.”
