Each time we get together, he reminds me of how much of a disappointment I am for not following in his footsteps and going to law school. I considered it, but after seeing how much the job took over his life, I knew it wasn’t for me.

Being the district attorney always took priority over our family, no matter the occasion, and when work called, he’d bail. I promised myself I’d never put my career over my wife and kids,ifI ever have those things. Deep down, a part of me feels like I don’t deserve to be happy. I had happiness once and wishing for it again would be selfish.

The country club is set off in the distance on a beautiful golf course. If I were just an outsider looking in and didn’t know anything about the members who frequented it, I’d probably think it was paradise. It’s far from it. Before I get out of the truck, I sit in the parking lot and give myself a pep talk. No matter what my father says today, I’m not going to lose my cool. I repeat it a few times.

I walk inside and am greeted by a few people who know my dad. “Mr. Holt, welcome back.”

It’s been over a year since I’ve been here, so I’m impressed they remember me. Then again, it’s impossiblenotto know who my father is, and I’m the spitting image of him.

I catch sight of my dad sitting at a table across the room. The years have been good to him even though I can’t say he deserves it much.

“Mason,” he calls out with a forced smile as soon as he sees me.

Heads turn toward me, and I’m that embarrassed kid again. He loves attention, but I can’t say I do.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, sitting across from him at the table.

He snaps his fingers, and the waiter comes over to take my drink order. I look down at his glass of bourbon and get one too, because I’m probably going to need it. Awkwardness floats between us when he answers his cell phone and begins talking to his wife. It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes, and I’m thankful when my whiskey arrives.

“I don’t have time to talk about this right now, Hallie. I’m having lunch with Mason.” He shakes his head, growing more frustrated with her. “We’ll discuss it when I get home,” he says between gritted teeth, then ends the call.

Seems he treats her like a child too, but it could be because she’s only four years older than me.

“Women.” He chuckle as if I’m one of his golf buddies.

“Hmm.” I take another sip, wishing the alcohol would kick in sooner because I don’t want to discussher. The thought of Hallie has always left a bad taste in my mouth, especially considering how they got together.

Being the new attractive fresh out of college secretary for the DA really worked in her gold-digging favor. After an affair and a pregnancy announcement, he left my mother high and dry with nothing but resentment and a paid-off house. A year after the divorce, she threatened to fight him in court for half of his shit, and since he didn’t want the negative attention, he caved and paid her off. Like he does everyone.

I haven’t fully forgiven him for what he did. My mother is the strongest and smartest woman on the planet and was there for me when I had no one and when I felt the most alone. She’s my biggest supporter, and when everything happened with myprevious girlfriend, Emma, she kept me sane. My father was too busy pointing fingers and covering possible scandals because he’s only ever concerned about number one—himself.

“How’s Michaela?” I ask, changing the subject. Even if I hate Hallie, I can’t treat my five-year-old sister poorly. She deserves better than either one of her parents.

“She’s good. Starting kindergarten in the fall. Can’t believe it,” he tells me, looking over the menu. I halfway wonder if he’ll force her to go to law school since I didn’t. It wouldn’t surprise me since they named her after my father. It’s disgusting, and I can only imagine how much pressure she’ll have on her to be the best at everything. I’ve lived that life without the result my father wanted. She’s his second chance.

The waiter returns and takes our order. My dad asks for another drink but makes it a double. It’s almost as if he has to be wasted to be around me. Good to know I make him just as miserable. When his freshly poured glass of bourbon is placed in front of him, he cuts straight to the chase.

“So what’re your current plans now that the semester has ended?”

I suck in a deep breath. “Not sure yet. I’m waiting to see if I get another internship since I found the last one so beneficial. I learned a lot and was grateful for the opportunity to work so closely with people in the field.”

He nods. Doesn’t say congratulations or that he’s proud of me, not that I expect it anymore.

“I can get you an internship at the morgue to be a coroner’s assistant. A position became available yesterday and it'll look good on your resume. I’ll call when we leave here.”

I open my mouth to speak up but then close it because I don’t have any other options at the moment. Though it’s not my first choice of places, death is an important part of a forensicsinvestigator. It’ll be a good experience, so I can’t complain about the opportunity.

“It’s settled then,” he says when I don’t offer any argument. I could explain how I don’t need him continuously butting into my life, but at the moment, I do need his help, though I’d never admit it out loud. Each time I walk into a new job, one he’s pulled strings to get me hired at, everyone instantly assumes I’m some privileged punk who doesn’t work hard. One would think being the DA’s son would make life easier, but the reality is, it doesn’t. I have to work ten times harder than someone who comes from a normal family to prove myself.

Our food finally arrives, an indication that this meeting is halfway over, and Dad talks about his new secretary. I wonder if he’s sleeping with her too, but I don’t say shit, while he runs his mouth and talks about her tight ass. And in a snap, he starts in on me. I’m shocked it took him this long.

“I honestly don’t know why you chose to go this route with your career. You would’ve made a great lawyer, Mason. You’ve got that no bullshit attitude, just like me. You could’ve climbed the ranks, worked on criminal trials, and made a name for yourself.”

“Sounds boring as hell.” I shrug, chewing a mouthful.

“It’s not too late for you. Many people go to law school after they work in their field for a few years.”

“It’s not gonna happen. After I get my master’s and a few more internships under my belt, I’ll have enough experience to start fieldwork. I’d rather help understand the ins and outs and whys of homicides than putting the bad guy behind bars with paperwork. The evidence is what’s important.”