Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(78)
Do I wanna know?
“And who’s that?” Of course, I do.
She takes a shaky breath but looks me straight in the eyes. “My dad.”
It takes me a second to register what she says.
“Come the f*ck again?” Are all dads dicks now?
And P.S., I knew that shit-bag was bad news.
“And maybe my boss? I’m not a hundred percent sure about that one, though.”
Welcome to today’s broadcast of f*ckery in progress.
We’re gonna come back to the dad thing. I’m officially pinning it under “things I need to wrap my head around for one thousand, Alex.”
“What’s the link to your boss?”
Before she explains, she reiterates, “Try to remember, I was going to tell you all of this today at brunch.”
“Duly f*cking noted, Green. Can we get to the meat of this BS?”
She stands, paces, and wrings her hands.
“Remember that article I wrote about you?”
“You mean the one I can basically quote word for word?”
Really?
“Right, that one.”
“Uh huh.” Of course, I f*cking remember it. The damn thing may as well be ingrained inside my head.
“The article that ran wasn’t the article I submitted.”
Um, okay. “Are you saying your boss wrote it?” I’m interested in where this is headed.
“Yeah, I mean, well, he took parts of what I turned in and kind of twisted my words.”
“So you didn’t think I was a low level scumbag looking to score easy money?” ’Cause that would be a relief.
Not.
“No, at the time, I totally thought you were a scumbag. But like I admitted, very recently, I didn’t know you then.”
Good to know she can be honest about it, but damn. Ouch.
“So you think because boss man took what you submitted and turned it into a Stiles hate fest, that─”
“Maybe he might be working with this guy. I don’t know for sure. It seems coincidental to me that they both seem to have it in for you, though. Not everybody can possibly hate you that much.”
I raise a questionable eyebrow at that statement.
“Can they?”
Technicalities.
“Beside the point, Green.” I have a feeling, as time limited as we are right now, that I’m gonna need to get the full-on, Emma Green rant session version to understand this shit. This should be a blast.
“I think you need to rewind and start from the beginning.”
“That’s a really long story, Stiles.”
See.
“Okay.” Let’s see if we can shorten it. “Start with when you left Florida.”
Green leans against the couch again. “I don’t know everything my dad was into. I only know most of it toward the end wasn’t good. But he was always very protective of me growing up. So when I finally found the nerve to tell him I was leaving, I was shocked, to say the least, that he was okay with it.”
Doesn’t sound too complicated so far. Lots of dads are *s. Look at mine.
“I guess he didn’t want me in the middle of whatever he was getting himself into. And I admit, I didn’t exactly want to be in the middle of it either. But maybe I should have stayed, or talked to him, or pushed him to─”
I cut her off there. “Take it from someone who’s really great at second-guessing himself when it comes to family, it doesn’t help.”
She nods in agreement. She gets it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting still.
“Anyway, once I was packed and ready to go, he handed me a piece of paper. He said he knew a guy who could help me out with finding a place to stay and getting settled up here.”
“That must have gone well.”
Green purses her lips before continuing.
“He got me an interview with The Chronicle.” Now I see why she’d think her boss had something to do with this guy. “And he wired me some money to help me get my feet on the ground.”
“I see. Did he send random guys to your room nightly too?”
Green’s left eyebrow shoots up, and I know. “Not called for, sorry.” But you’ve gotta admit, it would make sense—the boy-toy kissing her the way he did. Like he owns her.
“I met Connor at a diner I stopped at to eat while I was looking for apartments. We hit it off.” Funny she knows what I’m thinking, right?
Epic eye roll.
“If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have landed the job at The Chronicle. He’s their accountant. He put in a good word for me.” She’s trying to sell this guy to me? Really?
“So you moved in with him?” Seems cheesy to me, even for Green.
“That wasn’t the plan, but, we started dating, and I was staying at a hotel. I thought I’d found a place after a few weeks, but at the last minute, the building manager gave it to someone else, so…”
“You don’t seem the type to depend on a sugar daddy, Green.”
“I was looking for months, Stiles. And honestly, somehow, it made sense at the time,” she tells me. Even she doesn’t get how it all happened, if I’m basing her thoughts on the expression of thoughtfulness that just flashed across her face. “Until…”