Page 93 of My Favorite Bad Decision
He bites his lip. “You know what Maren’s issue is? It’s that she’s smart, and strong—just as smart and strong as you—but she doesn’t know it. You know why she doesn’t know it? Because every time you fight her battles for her, it’s the opposite of a vote of confidence. It’s like you’ve just said, ‘Sit back and look pretty while the adults take care of this issue, dummy.’”
I frown. “I know she’s smart. But she’s a people pleaser, and she never wants to make anyone mad, and she ends up getting taken advantage of a lot.”
“What she cares about—more than people pleasing and far more than Miller—is her baby sister. And if she thought she was the reason your hair looks that bad, she’d never forgive herself.”
I laugh, unwillingly. Maren is incredibly vain about her hair and therefore mine, I’ll grant him that much. But that doesn’t mean she’d forgive what I did…especially if I let it continue.
“Take a shower and get out of here,” Charlie says, rising. “It’s supposed to be in the sixties tomorrow. Spring is here, summer is coming, and you Fischer girls always like to have a boyfriend when the weather’s good. I’m pretty sure we both know who yours should be.”
* * *
When I wakethe next day, the sun is out and the gutters are dripping, so I guess Charlie was right. I force myself into the shower not because I think Charlie was right about anythingelse, but simply because I promised my dad I’d meet him for lunch.
I blow out my hair, apply careful makeup, and put on an outfit even Ulrika would approve of: camel wool wrap dress, red Louboutins—just so my dad won’t agree that I’m languishing.
The restaurant is predictably swanky—floor-to-ceiling views of New York City’s skyline, a hundred bucks in flowers on every linen-clad table. My father’s favorite waiter rushes over as we’re seated and my dad orders a 1955 Pinot Noir and steak for us both.
I’m not sure I have the appetite to eat, but whatever.
“You look thin, Kit,” he says, as the waiter leaves. “And pale. You were glowing when I saw you at dinner.”
I open my mouth to make excuses when I see Prescott Hughes heading toward us. People are constantly swinging by to kiss my father’s ass—one of the least enviable parts of his job. Maybe if I were happier right now, I’d let him come and go unscathed, but I’m not happy so I flip him off, and Prescott turns the other way.
“What was that about?” my dad asks.
“He dated Mom,” I say, meeting his gaze.
There’s a hint of softness in his eyes. My mother is legendary for the sheer number of husbands and boyfriends she’s brought through her home and what incredibly terrible taste she has. It’s honestly hard to keep the misdeeds straight at this point.
Rich men, poor men. The one thing they have in common is that they think they can fucking get away with anything.
With a few notable exceptions. My dad, Roger, Charlie.
Miller and Rob.
Dad gives me a sad smile. “Then I guess we’re lucky you didn’t swing a golf club at his head. So you’re thin and pale and sad, which I assume is about Miller, so what’s your plan?”
I suck in a breath. “Miller?”
“Kit, I know your palpable distress is not about a career shift. And you don’t run off to a private island in the Caribbean with a man who’s just a friend.”
Dad knows. Fuck.
While he and my mother don’t get along, they do enjoy a good bit of gossip about their offspring. I wait until the waiter has set our steaks in front of us to ask the question on the tip of my tongue. “Have you told Mom?”
He shakes his head. “I figured I should let you work it out first.”
“Workwhatout?” I ask. “There’s nothing to be worked out. He’s seeing someone anyway.”
Dad raises a brow. “I’m not sure how you’ve come by that bit of information, but I know for a fact that it’s not true.”
My pulse races for a second. It shouldn’t make a difference. Itdoesn’tmake a difference.
“Even if that’s the case, I can’t have him, Dad,” I whisper, my voice shaking with unshed tears. “And you know good and well that I can’t. He’s Maren’s ex. And she still thinks he’s the guy she should have ended up with.”
“At a certain point in your life, Kit, and I really hope that it’s this one, you’ll learn that sometimes you have to hurt other people to get the thing that will make you happy. Miller does not want her. He didn’t want her ten years ago, and he doesn’t want her now, which is why I brought him to that family dinner…so you’d see it for yourself.”
“All I saw was that Mare still thinks he’s the one that got away,” I reply, while my dad adds wine to the glass I haven’t even touched. “It was that dinner that made her decide to leave Harvey. And whether he wants her or not isn’t really the point.”
