Page 94 of Pick Six
FORTY-EIGHT
Alex
“Well,not to say I told you so but…” Tobias looks down at the ground.
“Thanks that’s real fucking helpful right now,” I gripe.
“Just saying. Maybe listen to me sometimes. I fuck up a decent amount of my own life, but I still give pretty good advice based on those experiences, you know. Secondhand wisdom...”
“I’ll keep it in mind for the future. Doesn’t help me right now though unless you have a magic solution.”
“I mean… you have a magic solution. You just don’t want to use it.” Ben gives me a look.
“What solution is that?”
“He means your father.” Tobias gives me a knowing look.
“That’s not an option.”
“Why not?” Colt asks. “And I’m asking that rhetorically before you give me a lecture about how awful he is.”
“Then you know my answer.”
“He could get you out of it though. He definitely has more power and leverage than Drew. His PR team is much more skilled.” Colt shakes his head.
“And then I’ll be indebted to him for the favor. He’ll want something, no doubt.”
“So do you—your career, the girl, her career.” Tobias’s eyes flick over me like I’m being childish.
“You want to tell her you knew you had an option, but your ego just wouldn’t let you?” Ben’s eyes drift over me.
“They’re right you know. I know you don’t want to hear it. But it’s probably your best way out,” Waylon adds.
“This feels like a fucking pile on,” I grouch at them as we sit around the restaurant after practice. I’d asked for it, offered to buy dinner for a brainstorming session, but I’d hoped for solutions that weren’thim. I’d already been up late last night turning that potential solution over and over in my head. Wondering if somewhere deep inside the man had any paternal instinct. One that would be enough to undo years of animosity between us and have him stick his neck out for me.
“Maybe it is.” Tobias shrugs.
“It’s not a pile on. It’s us trying to help you.” Colt shoots Tobias a look.
They’re right, and I know they’re right. It’s a nuclear option, but it’s one I need right now. I’m just dreading the idea of asking him. Of having to go and kiss the ring and beg for his help. I’ve spent so many years avoiding him. Avoiding any need for his help or presence. I know if he delivers, it’ll come with at least one demand, maybe several. I can guess what the biggest one will be.
I don’t even care about me. If it was just my name, I’d let Drew drag it through the mud. Do his worst. I’d hire half a dozen lawyers to make his life a living hell then. Defamation suits. Broken NDAs. Privacy violations. I’m sure they could find enough to keep him wrapped up in legal fees for the rest of his life if that’s the way he wanted this friendship to end. I might have to switch teams, endure some bad press, but I’d come out the other side better off eventually. He’d come out broke, with no job and no prospects after the lawyers finished him and the agency off.
What I won’t do is let her go through it, which is—I’m certain—what he’s betting on. His fail safe if she did tell me is that I’d either react by beating his face in for trying or if I could manage not to do that, I’d do everything in my power to keep her out of the news. Even agree to give her up. What he didn’t fucking bet on apparently is that I care enough about her to do just about anything. Including going to the man I despise for help.
* * *
“Well,out with it. I know it has to be bad if you’re here talking to me.” My father gives me a once over from his side of the desk. We’re sitting in his hallowed office. Like I’m one of his clients from his time before he was a senator when I was still a kid. A place I was only invited to when I was on the receiving end of a lecture.
“Drew turned on me. He’s blackmailing me and Harper to keep us apart.”
“That doesn’t shock me. Usually, there are consequences when you go after your friend’s wife. Especially if it’s the one guy who’s spent years cleaning up all your messes. You’ve probably given him all the ammunition he needs.”
I bristle at the accusation, a bitter taste in my mouth because for a moment before I came in here, I thought maybe, just maybe, my father would take my side for once. I shake my head, staring out the window, trying not to take the bait and react.
“Did you sleep with her before the divorce or after?” he asks when I let the silence stretch on.
“After.”
