Page 31 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
After a few moments of silence, Nick said, “Not a fan of your father.”
“Me either.” I laughed.
Growing up, I had always tried to please him. But no matter what I did, he had always been disappointed in me. Nothing had ever been good enough. Not my perfect grades. Not my exemplary volunteer work. Nothing. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t the disappointment. He was.
“Is he the reason why you left New York? Couldn’t you have just gotten a teaching job there?” Nick asked.
“I wouldn’t say my father was the reason but he was certainly the catalyst. I’m sure I could have found a job there, but it was time for a change. Time for me to just be me. Emmeline Austin. Not the Emmeline Austin, everything there is about money and prestige. You’re measured by your social standing and the number of times you hit the society pages. I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”
“Do you miss it? The city?” Nick asked.
“I miss a few things. Logan, mainly. I miss my restaurant. Twenty-four-hour dry cleaning. Hot dog street vendors. But other than that, it feels good to be living a simpler life. New York can be a cold place for those in the spotlight.”
“You don’t miss your friends?” he asked.
“No,” I scoffed. “Most of my ‘friends’ haven’t spoken to me since I left.”
“What about those girls you were with in Vegas? What happened to them?”
“Marian moved to Los Angeles and we lost touch. Alice lives in the city, but we were both so career focused after Yale, we lost touch too,” I said. “Though, apparently, she’s been keeping tabs on Logan.”
“What about the other one? The one with the, uh, implants?”
I choked on my coffee. “Steffie? We’re still friends. Our relationship is . . . different. About six months before I quit working for my father, I went over to his penthouse unannounced. Guess who he had naked and bent over the back of his couch?”
“Steffie?”
“I still gag when I think about it. Things were awkward at first but we’ve been able to stay friends regardless of her relationship with my father.”
“Interesting,” he said sarcastically.
“Things have always been a bit unconventional at the Austin estate.”
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“She lives in Italy. Shortly after I graduated from high school, she moved there with her Italian boyfriend, Alesso. She started having an affair with him when I was sixteen. When his work visa expired, she decided to move to Italy with him permanently.”
“She was cheating on your father?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “For as long as I can remember, they were married while both carried on blatantly public affairs. They only just got divorced five years ago.”
“Fuck. That’s a lot of drama,” Nick said when my storytelling was over.
“You are not wrong.”
We sat quietly for a while, then wandered slowly down the trail and ate sandwiches in the back of his truck before Nick drove me home.
“Thanks. I enjoyed t
he hike.”
We were standing by my front door and I was pulling out my keys, mentally preparing to ask him why he had left me. I had decided on the drive back that his time was up. He had promised me an explanation and had yet to give it.
All day long we had visited and not once had he broached the subject. He’d learned plenty about my life today but shared little about his.
So this afternoon I was demanding answers. And I wanted it to happen here in my home, my own private place where I felt safe to have whatever emotional reaction I needed.
“Nick, I need you to—” I was interrupted by the soft brush of his lips on mine.
