Page 30 of Desperate Pucker
Just then, there’s a soft knock at my office door.
“Come in.”
When my dad appears in the doorway, I tense up. We haven’t spoken since Christmas Eve when I refused to go to Aspen with him because I didn’t want to be around my older half-siblings.
He frowns and clears his throat. “Sorry to interrupt your workday.”
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
He walks over to my desk and sits in the white upholstered club chair in front of it. “Just wanted to see how things were going.”
“So far, so good.”
I take in the way he fiddles with the cufflink on the sleeve of his dress shirt. That absent look on his face as he nods. He always does that when he’s nervous to ask me something.
“Glad to hear it.” He clears his throat. “I’ve mentioned before that I’m on the board of trustees at Hollis University, right?”
“Maybe. I can’t remember.”
“Well, I was talking to a friend of mine who’s also on the board. He and I both made donations to the athletic department years ago. They’re having an event in May and inviting a bunch of athletes to the university to make an appearance, take photos with fans, sign autographs, that sort of thing. I mentioned to him that you might like to be part of that.”
My shoulders tense. “Why would you do that without asking me first?”
His brow furrows like he’s confused. “I thought it would be fun for you to do a public-facing event. You used to do them quite often.”
Panic shoots down my spine when I think about all the public events I was obligated to show up for after the Winter Olympics,even though I didn’t want to. But I was the bronze medalist and had to be there.g
Countless morning news show segments where I had to hold a smile while interviewers made quips about my meltdown. Parades where I was standing on a float while people in the crowd held up their phones with screenshots of my face mid-sob during my breakdown to get a reaction out of me. All those signing events when people brought photos of my sobbing face for me to sign and laughed at me when I refused to.
They all thought I was a spoiled brat and wanted to make fun of me.
No way am I setting myself up to be humiliated like that again.
“I’m not interested,” I say, turning back to my computer and shutting it off.
My dad lets out a heavy sigh, laced with disappointment. “Madeline, won’t you at least think about it?”
“No.” I stuff my phone and laptop in my bag.
Another heavy, disappointed sigh. “I think you’re being very short-sighted here.”
“I don’t care. I’ve done my fair share of public events. I’m not in the mood to be made fun of to my face.”
“Madeline, I know you needed time away after your…incident…at the Winter Olympics. But it’s been two years. People are over it. They’re not going to bother you with that nonsense.”
I look at him. “How would you know that?”
“Madeline, you can’t let those people get the best of you like that.”
I’m quiet as I grab my coat from the back of my chair.
He stands up when I do. “So is this your solution? Hide out forever?” He sounds annoyed with me, and it pisses me off.
“I’m not hiding out. I just refuse to do public events.”
He shakes his head. “I’m really disappointed in you.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Join the club.”
