Page 65 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“I agree and apologize. This has been a busy week but I understand that is not a valid excuse.”
“It is not. Your manners are dwindling. Likely because of your new environment. Are the uncivilized rural country folk rubbing off on you?”
Normally, I would let that insult slide but I was still half asleep and had yet to consume any caffeine, so my retort slipped out easily.
“Now who has forgotten their manners?”
“Do not speak to me in that tone!”
I winced and held the phone away from my ear. “May I please ask the reason for this early morning phone call, Father? It is, after all, barely six in the morning in Montana. Surely, you recall I am in a different time zone.”
“Mind your attitude, Emmeline,” he said. “I am calling because I ran into Logan last weekend at a benefit for the Met.”
My intuition had been correct. He had called because of Logan. I was surprised it had taken him this long. It was early February and we had broken up back in November.
“And?”
“And he was with a friend of yours from college. An Alice Leys.”
That stung a littl
e, but I wasn’t terribly surprised. I had no doubt that when Alice had learned Logan was once again single, she’d immediately moved in. I just hoped that she had genuine feelings for him, not just his wallet.
But I certainly wasn’t going to let my father in on any of this. I just hoped that his call was only to berate me about Logan and that Steffie hadn’t slipped and told him about Nick.
“And?” I asked again.
“And!” he yelled.
I don’t know why I’d jumped. It shouldn’t have surprised me that he was shouting.
This time I didn’t put the phone back to my ear. He kept on screaming and for the sake of my eardrum, I listened to it from a few inches away.
“How could you be so foolish? You’ve chosen to live in a backwoods hick town for what? To teach the dunce children of adult halfwits? You get your ass back here and make this right with Logan. That alleged friend of yours was hanging all over him. If you’re lucky, you may still have a chance to get him back. I am sending a plane. Now, Emmeline.”
“I’m not returning to the city,” I said. My voice was steady though my pulse was racing and my fingers were shaking.
“You are,” he ordered.
“I am not.”
The shouting stopped, which meant things were about to get much worse. Whenever Trent Austin wanted to make a point with his children, he did it with vicious, but quiet attacks. When he was shouting, I stood a chance.
“I’m surprised at you, Emmeline.” His tone was normal, likely the same one he used with his yachting buddies or his suit tailor. “Even when I think you can’t possibly disappoint me further, you sink so far beneath my expectations it’s a wonder I set them at all. It’s no surprise that you had to trade sexual favors to be a successful fundraiser. Tell me. Is that why your team was always so far ahead? Because you were fucking our wealthiest contributors?”
I closed my eyes and sank further into the chair. He knew that I would never prostitute myself for campaign donations, but he was throwing the lie out there as a reminder that he could still smear my reputation.
Why did his insults still hurt? For the majority of my life, I’d done everything I could to please him. I thought I’d set that all aside after his betrayal. That since I had quit my job and moved to Montana, it wouldn’t hurt when he told me I was a disappointment.
But it did.
Just like it hurt that he’d tell vicious and filthy lies about his own daughter simply because I didn’t marry the man of his choice.
The little girl inside me was still hoping that one day she could make her father proud. I needed to have a heart-to-heart with that little girl and tell her to wise up. It was never going to happen.
“You know I have never slept with a client. That’s a lie, Father.”
“According to you,” he said. “Get on that plane.”
