Page 1 of Start With A Slap

CHAPTER 1

Slap

The door to Sever Mark’s den was immense.

Granted, Ivy was petite and this was a megamansion, but this door, void black and fit for a giant, was ridiculous. He must have wanted his visitors to feel small.

Either that, or he was overcompensating.

Smiling to herself, Ivy reached for the handle. It was gold and sculptural, a slopingSthat split into two pointed prongs. Like a forked tongue.

—“He’s a snake.”

Her husband’s words from the night before sprang to mind and gave her pause. It was their first-ever fight, and it was about the man on the other side of this door.

“You’re giving him too much power, Jason. He’s only a man?—”

“You don’t get it, Ivy?—”

“I ‘don’t get it’? I didn’t grow up feeling rejected by an absent father?”

“It’s not the same! This is different!”

As usual he refused to say how, and through her indignation all she heard was that Jason’s pain was special becauseboo fucking hoo, he had to live out his teen years in the lap of Gatsbyan luxury.

“Itisdifferent,”she’d said.“The difference is your father is still alive.”

She knew she was right about this. For too long, Ivy had put off a no-holds-barred talk with her father—so many questions, so much hurt to unravel… and then he was gone. Wouldn’t Jason have the same regrets? Maybe his father had done much worse than hers, maybe he was an irredeemable asshole, but if that was true wouldn’t Jason feel better if he could confront him as an adult and could see him for what he was: A man who didn’t know how to be a father?

She’d offered to be the one to reach out, but that only made Jason sputter out a string of mixed metaphors that included a viper pit, Pandora’s Box, and pulling the Devil’s tail.“Is that what you want?”

His word jumble was so disarming that she’d said,“I’m not sure. Does the pit still have hope?”

Tension defused with laughter, they made up, made love, an entire night and workday went by. Ivy thought she’d let it go... until her stubborn subconscious took the wheel. Literally. Instead of taking the off-ramp at the grocery store as planned, she found herself merging onto the 405, snaking through Holmby Hills and pulling into the entrance of what Jason fondly referred to asThe Fortress of Fuckitude.

Of course she’d have to tell him about this, and of course he wouldn’t be happy with her, but based on the reception to her arrival, therewashope. She was buzzed into the gates before she could get a word out, and when she entered the grand foyer, a security guard reading a Baldwin novel cut off her pert introduction with, “End of the hall to your left.”

Not the warmest of welcomes, but the fact that she was let in on sight spoke volumes. Clearly Jason’s father had been keeping tabs on him from afar; how else would he know who she was? Ivy was almost giddy, triumphant as she marched down that gilded marble hall toward Sever Mark’s inner sanctum.Guess what? Your father misses you.

...But what did that matter if Jason didn’t want her there? If she’d disregarded his wishes and inserted herself into a place she didn’t belong? If she unleashed something he’d carefully boxed away?

Up to this moment, she’d been confident that her motives were pure, but as she stared at the serpentine door handle she had to wonder: was she doing this for him, or for herself?

Now that she thought about it, it was possible she had a slight case of hidden agenda. The more Jason kept her guessing about his past, the more she had to know. If she were being honest, her curiosity was killing her... and maybe meeting his father could give her something of a clue.

She straightened. Regardless of which shoulder sprite brought her here, the fact remained: she was here. Now. Standing awkwardly in the cavernous mansion of a Forbes 100 billionaire on a Tuesday night.

Transfixed by a door handle.

—“He’s a snake.”

Should she turn and leave, let the Devil’s box of vipers stay shut?

No. It was too late; he knew she was here. The box had been shaken. She might as well see this through.

Besides, she wasn’t afraid of snakes. She wasn’t afraid of anything really, unless you counted guns and karaoke. Introducing herself to a mythical beast and landing in the proverbial doghouse in the process? That was nothing.

Ivy psyched herself up.He’s not a beast; he’s a regular human being, just like me.As her mother used to say, “We’re all related to the same fish with legs.”

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