Page 133 of Cockpit
Worth the risk. There’s that damn phrase again.
“That was supposed to make you smile, Grayson.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad, but I’m just trying to figure things out.”
“You’ve already figured them out. Now you need to act on them.”
“Easier said than done.”
He holds a hand out to me. We hook thumbs, and he helps pull me up.
“Remember this—someone who really loves you sees what a mess you are and understands that you can be a moody son of a bitch but wants you anyway.”
“What’s your point?”
“I believe Sidney saw all that in you and still wants you. She just isn’t sure how to fight for someone when they refuse to see the same in themselves.”
Christ.
“It isn’t that easy.”
“A long time ago, someone once told me to find what I love and let it kill me.” He lowers his head for a moment before looking back up and meeting my eyes. “It’s okay if Sidney ruins you, Gray. Don’t be afraid of it, because she may also be the one to help bring you back to life. She may just be the air you need to breathe, the one you can’t live without.”
My dad holds my gaze and nods ever so slightly before he turns and walks back to wherever he came from.
I run a hand through my hair and know he’s right. About all of it. I’ve felt like shit the past few days. It’s more than just my missing her. It’s knowing I want her and somehow let her slip through my fingers.
It’s knowing she is the one risk I want to take, consequences be damned.
It’s knowing I was too damn scared to ask her to stay . . . and now that she’s gone, the answers are all clear as fucking day.
“I’m proud of you, Sid. Your work and dedication really had a chance to shine in this contest.”
“Thank you.” My words are muted, my mind elsewhere as I meet my dad’s gaze. He can probably see the confession of everything I did wrong.
Like fall in love with a contestant.
I clear my throat. “Numbers have definitely improved, and not just for the contest pages. The click-through to other articles has had a significant increase as well.”
“So the numbers show.” He flips through more pages of statistics and then looks back up at me, a proud smile on his lips. “Zoey came to see me a few months back.”
I whip my head up to look at him, utter shock blanketing my face. “You mean my friend Zoey, Zoey?”
He gives a measured nod. “Yes.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out, mentally scrambling to come up with a reason why she would do that and coming up with nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me you missed the interview because you were helping her?”
Completely blindsided by this conversation, I open my mouth and then close it more than a time or two before I finally speak. “Because it didn’t matter. She asked me not to tell anyone and seeing as how it was her personal business, I didn’t. Even if I had told you, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that I screwed up. I needed to own up to it. I should have kept track of the time or called someone to let them know . . . and I didn’t.”
“So you took the punishment without saying a word.”
“Yeah. I guess. I just did what I felt was right.”
For a second, I swear I see tears well in his eyes, but I know that’s not possible. Frank Thorton never shows emotion. Ever.
“Your work at Modern Family was incredible, Sidney . . . but I’m more proud of you for what you did with Zoey. For not making excuses and taking the assignment in Sunnyville with dignity. And for making the most of it.” He smiles as I fight back my own tears, his praise has always been hard won. “You earned it, kid. The spot at Haute is yours. You’ll have to learn some of the particulars here at headquarters, but after that, I’ll be more than happy to recommend you for the editor-in-chief position without any hesitation.”
