Page 62 of Heartbreaker
“Oh, right. Savannah. You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? Remind me of my last ex-wife, Holly.”
Is that supposed to be a compliment? And, who’s Holly? John never mentioned her. How many ex-wives does this man have?
“Sit, please. Make yourselves comfortable,” Leeland says and motions at the table.
I count to three before John finally relents. He pulls out the chair between them, allowing me to sit, before he chooses the one to my right, giving him an open view of the entire space. I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it, bringing my knuckles to his lips.
“I have to be honest, I wasn’t sure you were going to show,” his father says, bringing the white coffee mug to his lips. “Ariana said you agreed to meet, but I had my doubts.”
“I highly considered asking the pilot to turn around well before we landed.” John looks bored, but his grip on my hand tells a different story.
“There’s that famous John sense of humor I’ve missed all these years.”
“Don’t call me that,” John says.
His scoffs. “That is your name, isn’t it?”
“The only person allowed to call me by that name is the woman sitting next to me.”
Leeland stares at his son through the narrowed slits of his eyes, biting down on his bottom lip, and slowly, a smile lifts the corners of his mouth. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the same oneBrooks Taylordisplays when he’s challenged by an opponent. After a moment, Leeland blinks his gaze away from John toward me. “Are you hungry, Savannah? The special today is delicious, one of my favorites—a kumquat chicken dish with a special kumquat hoisin sauce over rice.”
John’s hand stiffens in mine. I clench my jaw to keep from laughing, refusing to meet his stare that burns into the side of my face. You’ve got to be kidding. Of all the things…Fuckingkumquatchicken.
“No, thank you, Mr. Brooks,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Leeland, please,” he says, briefly glancing at our joined hands now on the table. “So, how did you two meet?”
“I’m sure Ariana already filled you in,” John answers a little too quickly. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“If you’re going to be this difficult, you can just leave now.”
My heart drops, and a frost coats my insides like a winter’s morning on the farm.
John scoffs. “You haven’t changed a damn bit.”
“On the contrary, John. I have changed, it’s you who still hasn’t grown up. You’re the same, whiny little shit you’ve always been. I’m sure you told her”—Leeland motions toward me—“all about how mean and nasty I was, leaving out what an absolute nightmare you were to raise.”
I can’t contain my gasp.
“You were an insolent child who always had to have the last word, and I couldn’t stand you. You thought you knew better than everyone, and your grandmother only made it worse because she coddled you and your sister. But I made sure there was food on the table, a roof over your head, and clothes on your back. You had the world at your fingertips. You could have done anything, beenanything, and you chose to run around in tights for the rest of your life. What kind of a man does that?”
John’s head bobs as he skates his tongue across his front teeth before rolling his lips between them. “Are you done?”
The server appears with a fresh glass of what I assume is whiskey, based on the sweet aroma mixed with a hint of cinnamon, setting it before Leeland.Glad to see we’re starting early. He flips open a padded black notebook and clicks his pen, as if blind to the heightened tension radiating off the table in seismic waves. His mouth opens, ready to begin his spiel, but I interrupt him, “Can you give us a few minutes?” His brow furrows, but he stuffs the notebook into his cream-colored apron with an eye roll.
John waits until the kid is gone to say, “You may have provided monetarily, but you were never a father. None of what you just said makes up for the shit you put us through. You weren’t the one taking care of Ariana. You weren’t the one making sure Mom got out of bed and ate every day. You weren’t the one picking up the pieces of our shattered lives every time you and Mom got into an argument because you refused to leave. We would’ve been better off without you.”
“Better off? That’s funny, because from what I hear, your mother still doesn’t have a job. She freeloads off of you and Grandma Aggie. If it weren’t for the two of you, she’d be on the damn street. Just like you would’ve been had I left.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Leeland.”
“You are just like your mother,” John’s father says. “At least Ariana has the decency to show me some respect.” That earns a scoff from his son. “There was a time when we were close, John.”
“That was before I learned what a narcissist you are.”
“I’m the narcissist? You’re the one who went into show business.” Leeland chuckles, folding his arms, the white knit polo tight across his chest. “And from what I hear, you were more than happy to step on anyone who got in your way to the top. You didn’t care who you hurt as long as it ended with your name in lights. Heard you fucked the boss’s daughter, too.”
“There are a lot of things that I did in the beginning of my career that I regret, but the one thing I can say that I never did is sleep with Chelsea Rafferty.”
