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Wait, do you actually?

Recording attached.

I hit play on the ten-second video as I walk through the living area and grab my jacket, ready to head to the airport for a three-night series in Chicago.

The tape finishes up, and I frown.

No way. Not buying it. Also, never have I ever complained about the noises you make.

I’m noisy?

I burst out laughing and grab my keys from the console table.

Oh, Kitten, the possible responses I could give to this.

Never mind that. Do I snore?

No.

I do, don’t I?

It’s cute.

I die.

Recording attached.

YOU DIDN’T!

On a belly laugh, I twist the handle on my front door and grab my suitcase, still smiling down at my phone like a lovesick fool.

“Son. Thought I’d catch you before you head to the airport.”

I’m partway to the elevator when the voice wipes away my smile, an awkward feeling settling over me.

“That a girl?” He nods his head at the phone in my hand, and I quickly pocket it.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is ice-cold.

I can’t say I harbor hate toward my dad, but I’m definitely not his biggest fan. There isn’t much in life we see eye to eye on, resulting in an impasse between us. Which is why I’m surprised to see him here, acting like he actually gives a shit.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he responds, brushing a few flakes of snow from the collar of his long black coat.

I dangle my truck keys beside me, hoping he’ll take the hint that I need to get going. “And you didn’t answer mine. I have, like, thirty minutes to get to the terminal.”

He smiles and shakes his head in the patronizing way he does.

Dad has always thought a lot of himself. He’d walk into a room and expect all conversation to stop around him. Everything revolved around his agenda, and if yours happened to be full, then you’d better make accommodations.

“Haven’t got five minutes for your old man? I came all thisway to see you. Thought it was my only option since you refuse to answer my texts.”

I ignore the gibe, along with his passive-aggressive comment. “Not here on work then?”

He runs a self-assured hand through his hair. I wish I could extract his DNA from my genetic makeup and replace it with Jon’s, life would be much simpler that way.

He takes a step toward me. “I’m here to check up on the progress of our US hedge fund, but that’s not the main reason for visiting New York. I wanted to see you, Jack.”

His voice feels sincere enough, but Jon’s warning rings true. I can’t trust him. There’s always something more to his actions. My phone buzzes in my pocket for the second time, reminding me of Kendra’s unanswered text.