Page 21 of Just for Tonight

I stop in shock, then turn to consider the mild-mannered man who has shaken my universe hard. Richard smiles – a sad smile – and nods just a bit. My reaction has proven him right.

How did I not see this sooner? How could I have missed my father’s fingerprints all over my life?

The joke is that I thought I’d gotten away.

I might have left, but I took him with me.

I have to sit down for a second to process this. I do.

And Richard, possibly the kindest and most gracious man of my acquaintance, waits until I raise my head again.

“Patrick was a demanding man,” he says, still speaking in that quiet way. “And a very private one. He would never have told anyone how he felt about anything, unless he was enraged, and I think that cost him a great deal. He was very alone by the end.”

“I thought you were his friend.”

Richard shrugs. “I might have thought so once, but he did and said things that made that impossible. He paid me well. I think I was more of a consultant than anything else.”

I never thought of Patrick as alone, much less of him being lonely. It’s astonishing to think of him having any shortfalls – because he would never have admitted to any. “What about Candace?”

“I don’t know. Patrick spent a lot of time at the country club in recent years. I can’t imagine their marriage was what it might once have been, but then, I am known to have very little imagination.” His smile is self-deprecating now.

I almost laugh.

He clears his throat. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you. I should go.” I wave my folder. “On to the next mountain, then back to the city tomorrow.”

Richard nods and gets up to open the office door for me. “Think about it, Jake,” he says as I draw alongside him. “You know what you have now, but what do you really want? When are you going to reach for your dream, whatever it is?”

“Things would have to change,” I say without meaning to confess anything. It’s not going to be possible to work sixty hours a week plus be my father’s executor and do anything else other than sleep. Never mind that I’m pushing a little harder at work in the hope of scoring that promotion in the fall.

“What’s the name of Merrie’s bistro?” Richard asks.

“The Carpe Diem Café.” It’s a trick question, I realize as soon as I answer.

“Yes. Seize the day. It’s a good reminder. There is no time like the present to follow your heart, Jake. That’s one lesson your father never learned, but you can do better.”

“Learn from his example, even if it’s what not to do,” I say and Richard chuckles.

“You’re a smart, conscientious young man, Jake.” He leans closer, his gaze bright. “You didn’t deserve to be convinced that you’re unworthy of your dreams.”

Unworthy.

And just like that, Richard Bradshaw stabs a dagger right into my heart, then gives it a twist.

“Forget that bit,” he continues, “even if you remember everything else.”

I spin out of his office, outrage mingled with a sense of being exposed. I fling myself into my car and just sit there for a minute, seething.

How dare Richard be right? I barely know him and yet he’s put his finger right on a truth I’ve been evading all my life.

I’ve evaded it well, too.

The thing with constant criticism is that it does make you reach higher – but at the same time, it gives you the conviction that you are not enough. Worse, you’ll never be enough. Worse again, no matter how many accolades and triumphs you pile up, you’ll always be a failure – and you’ll know it in your heart, just the way your perceptive father does.

How the fuck did Patrick worm his way so deeply into my mind?

More importantly, what can I do to evict him forever?