Page 138 of Dirty Like Zane
“So… what happened between youtwo?”
He grunted. “What happened? I treated her like a queen, and this is how she returns my generosity. Dragging my name through themud.”
Right… Because his name was so pristine up until thatpoint.
“She said she was at my wedding to Zane,” I went on. “Which was supposed to be a private event. She wasn’t supposed to tellanyone.”
My dad stared at me blankly. “That was a long time ago,Maggie.”
Like thatmattered?
I tried another tack. “She spilled a lot on unflattering stuff about you, too. I think this was just one of many things she thought might hurtyou.”
“Why would it hurtme?”
“Uh… because I’m your daughter? And it was supposed to be asecret.”
That didn’t seem to compute at all. I could already see him checking out of the conversation, though it wasn’t like he’d really checked in in the firstplace.
“I was supposed to be able to trust you,” Iadded.
Now my father gave me a cold look. And when Dizzy Bowman gave you a cold look, it put frost on your spine. “It wasn’t me who blabbed about yourwedding.”
“Right. But you’re the one who brought her to the wedding. We trusted you, and you vouched for her, and we trusted that. This is a breach of that trust. Do you getthat?”
I looked deep into his gray eyes, and no, he definitely didn’t getthat.
“It’s not my fault if some bitch can’t keep her mouth shut,” he said. “This what you came here for? To hassle me in my living room?” He took a slurp of hisdrink.
“I’m not hassling you, Di—Dad. But you should know, it really upset me when I read what she said to thepress—”
“Don’t be a bitch,Maggie.”
And there itwas.
Had I ever gotten through a conversation with my dad without him calling me a bitch or a slut or a waste ofair?
Not that I couldrecall.
Which was maybe why I had such a hard time standing up to him. Because I knew that when I did, the insults would startflying.
And it wouldhurt.
I sat back and looked at him. He was still handsome, in a way. My father was never the best-looking guy, but there was something about him. This kind of haphazard charm he tossed around. Made people want to buy into his bullshit, at least for a while. There was a reason the young girls kept coming around, and it wasn’t just themoney.
With his scraggly, bleach-blond hair and tattoos, his dark tan and jewelry, there was something attractive about him, I supposed, to a certain type of girl. It was his confidence, maybe. His unshakable sense of self-importance.
“I’m not being a bitch, Dad,” I told him calmly. “I’m just trying to be honest with you. I want you to know how Ifeel.”
He made a disgusted sound and sipped his drink. It was almost empty. “Well, what do you want me to do aboutit?”
As if I wantedanything.
I watched him stroke his dog. She wore a gold bow, and if memory served, her name was Cookie. I’d never met her before, but he’d definitely sent me pictures of her. She was pretty damn cute, so it was impossible to hate her. But it was painfully clear to me that Cookie got a shit-ton more love from my dad than I everhad.
I was pretty damn sure, based on this exchange and so many others over the years, that all I’d ever been to my dad was a pain in his ass. Even though I’d never actually asked him formuch.
Although… maybe I did wantsomething.
