Page 22 of Accidental Dad’s Best Friend (Unintentionally Yours #7)

Ethan

W hat is it with guys named Chad?

They’re always the same. Car salesman body language, gum smacking, tube sock wearing assholes that smell they bathe in CK Eternity and say things like, “Cool, cool,” and “Exaaaaactly.”

Jersey accents without Jersey roots.

It’s annoying.

I’m standing on a private golf course with Liam and a couple other guys from the office who I don’t really mind but I wouldn’t call friends either.

Justin Fix, a young editor who only has his job because his dad is a screenwriter and people know his name, Bryce Bowmont, a literary investor with no chin and too much ego, and Chad. Fucking Chad.

“So I tell my secretary, who might as well be my personal assistant if you know what I’m saying,” Liam grins.

Bryce chuckles, setting down his tee, and Chad says, “exactly…” with a laugh.

I hold a tight smile. It’s about all I can do.

Liam and I used to golf alone. I don’t hate golf, it’s a leisurely sport where you can just turn your brain off and enjoy the slow rhythm of it while being outside but not in nature, if that makes sense.

I do, however, hate golf people. Which is why I haven’t enjoyed it since Liam became the Liam he is now, bringing along other hot headed dicks and guys like Chad.

“You know,” I add in. “Rose does a lot for you. A little more appreciation is probably due. That girl is hustling outside her payrange if I had to add the numbers.”

“Hustling in more ways than that if I had to guess.” Chad nudges me hard, too hard, and laughs again. I want to shove my driver down his throat. Instead, I take my turn, the ball soars over a pond, over the green and lands within a foot of the hole.

“Damn, son,” Chad says. Liam’s jaw twitches and I realize he is only letting this joker play with us because he wants something. Even Justin and Bryce are forcing face.

“Who did you say you work for again, Chuck?” I ask as I step aside for Liam to take his turn.

“It’s Chad.”

“Same thing,” I add and he just blinks. Not upset, more like not computing.

“So I’m an editor for Muscle,” he says, standing too close to Liam for Liam to take his shot.

“You’re in the way, Chad,” I nod and after a moment, he gets it.

“Right, right. My bad, my bad.”

“That’s that car magazine right?” I press and Liam’s hands tighten around his driver. It’s not just because Chad has got to be the most obnoxious person we’ve ever been stuck with, but because I am digging and he knows it.

“THE car magazine,” Chad corrects me. “No one scouts out more vintage cars than us and no one knows the history like we do. Although some of the numbers are a little skewed here and there.” He laughs. This man finds a lot of things funny considering how much dirt he’s excavating onto his own grave.

“How so?”

“Well think about it, E. How do we really know how many of these cars are left? Some old man could have a ‘61 Murcury Comet in his shed, covered in a sheet in mint condition, cherried to the nines and if it ain’t registered, we don’t know.

But the fewer cars registered, the more they’re worth.

So…we ignored the real number. The car is then worth more, the coverage of those cars is flaunted in our magazines making them worth even more after that.

The owner gets a high quote and we get good literature.

Fuck grandpa and his garage project, am I right? ”

I see a glint in Liam’s eyes and I lock my gaze on it.

There’s the dirt.

And Chad has buried himself.

I’m done. Beyond done. Ready to walk off the course. But Justin’s words stop me.

“Don’t you have a daughter in the magazine world, Sloane?”

Liam takes his shot, his ball landing close to mine. We pack up and head for the car. He looks indifferent to the question. “Used to.”

We drive to the next shot. It’s hot. The kind of hot that comes from high elevation and a high sun and no clouds and dry air.

My skin is itchy beneath the polo. I hate polos.

I prefer button downs and t-shirts. Maybe the occasional jersey.

But itchy, sweaty skin isn’t the only thing festering.

That question about Izzy came out of south field and I want to know where it originated.

“Why do you ask?” I say to Justin as we get out of the cart.

“Ask what?”

“About Izzy. Isabelle. Did you hear something?”

Liam’s ears perk at that, but it’s only detectable to me.

“Nah. It just comes up once in a while at social events. She was the one that threw a fit about not being skinny and slammed all the fit girls in Slay right?”

Blood vessels in my head are practically exploding. In short, I am pissed. I look to Liam, expecting his golf club to crash over Justin’s head. But it doesn’t. In fact, he’s smiling. Chuckling even.

“I have to say, she didn’t get her reckless ways from me,” he says. “That girl came into this world stirring things up and I’ve been trying to break her of her bad habits ever since.”

Make that seething.

“She didn’t throw a fit. She told the truth. Isn’t that what we are supposed to be doing?”

“Sometimes, sure?” Chad adds. “But entertainment is the point. We aren’t newspapers. We’re magazines. We are what people grab when they want to distract themself from real life.”

“We are also art. And beauty. And knowledge. And–”

Liam cuts me off. “Are we actually doing this right now? Jesus fucking Christ, Savage. Listen to you. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you traded your laptop in for a quill and some parchment. You sound like a goddamn poet.”

Justin and Bryce smile, tight smiles. Chad laughs. I burn holes into Liam’s face with my eyes.

“My bad,” I sniff, turning to pull my bag out of the cart. “I thought we were writers. I thought we did this because we are passionate about it, not for fame or money or stats.”

“What are you trying to say, Ethan? You don’t think I’m as good as you anymore?”

I stop. Stare at him. Everyone else is watching through their aviators. Cool and calm. Well except for Chad. He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. He’s just smacking his gum looking between us like he’s watching an air hockey match at an arcade.

“I think you’ve lost sight of what matters. Of who matters. ”

Liam takes his shades off, his glare icy on mine. He takes a step closer to me, chest firm, in an attempt to intimidate me. We are the same height.

“Are you talking about Isabelle?”

“Isabelle. And everyone else you knock to the ground when you don’t think there’s enough room on the mountain top for your shrine.”

“You better watch your mouth while you talk about my Izzy,” he grits out. He’s standing close enough to me that I can feel the heat of his breath on my own mouth. It smells like tobacco and whiskey.

You mean my Izzy.

He has no right calling her that. She does not belong to him.

“Says the man who has abandoned his daughter because he is ashamed of her.”

I hear Justin clear his throat. Bryce is lucky enough to have a call to take and walks off. Chad stands there gaping.

“You need to back up.”

“And you need to stop hurting people just for the thrill. Izzy included.”

“What do you know about any of it?”

I do take a step back. But it’s not a back down.

I grab my putter and position myself in front of the ball.

It's a foot or so behind Liam’s. A little to the side.

“Well, I know that you have gained a lot of traction in the literary world in the past decade or so. Some might even say that it’s because you’re the best. I also know that most of that success came not from working to build yourself up.

But by tearing other people down. Take Chad for example.

” I nod over at him and Chad just watches, almost like he’s happy to be part of the conversation. Chad is stupid.

“Chad thought he was going golfing with us today because he assumes you see him as a friend in the business. He’s a great writer, from the sound of it, even if he colors a little brightly here and there.”

“I exaggerate. But don’t we all?” Chad laughs, though it’s less cocky this time.

“The problem that Chad couldn’t have seen coming, yet you did, Liam, because you planted the trap, was that Chad’s lips got loose and he told you about what he does in the dark for Muscle. Now Chad, what do you think is the catalyst for NBT’s recent success?”

“Good…writing?”

“Aim lower.” I nod down at him. He has no idea what I am talking about. Meanwhile, Liam is seething.

“We expose other magazine’s secrets Chad.”

With a bit of effort, the dots connect and Chad looks between Liam and I.

“That’s…fucked.”

“That’s business,” I shrug with a not so nice smile.

“Yeah, I think I’m done,” Chad says, grabbing his things. “I don’t even like fucking golf anyways. Dumb sport.”

After he walks off, I look at Liam again who is glaring at me hard enough to burn holes in my Polo. Good. Maybe then I can throw it away.

“I bet you feel pretty damn good about yourself right now, don’t you?” He nods. Then he sucks the air between his teeth. “All because someone mentioned Izzy.”

“All because you insulted your own daughter.”

“So what? She’s my daughter. What concern is that to you?”

I have to physically stop myself from hitting him over the head with the putter. It’s a small club but it’ll get the job done.

“You’re not the man you used to be, Liam,” I told him.

“And Izzy is not your concern.”

“Except that she kind of is. You told me to make sure she was okay. Instead of checking on her yourself. Don’t talk about her like you care about her.”

Liam stands in front of me, his chest brushing mine. “Don’t talk about her like you care about her either, Savage.”

I know what he’s saying. And while my pulse is racing at the idea that he might know something, I keep calm. Cool. Because he can’t know. He can’t find out. Not yet. I need to reel it in.

Again, I’m making the move of the bigger man and taking a step back. Then, with little to no effort, I calculate a swing that knocks my ball into the hole.

“I’m just trying to be a good man,” I say finally. And I am. A good writer, a good boss, a good friend, and whatever I am to Izzy and Jax. For them, I want to be the best I can be. Which means I need to be careful.

Liam scoffs. “You’ve always thought you were better than me, Ethan. It’s half of my problem with you. This magazine used to be different. It used to be you and me against the world. Until you betrayed me.”

Me?

I look over at him. “And how did I betray you?”

“You were going to leave me for the League.”

“Because you lost sight of what mattered. You’re right. This magazine used to be you and me against the world. And then it became you against the world and I wasn’t even in the picture anymore. Are you surprised I wanted to take my passion somewhere else?”

He studies me for a moment before sniffing. “No. I guess not. Loyalty was never your strong suit.”

His words are a punch to the stomach. I was always a loyal friend. I am a loyal person. Other than the fact I’m fucking his daughter, I think his accusation is bullshit.

Liam centers his focus on his putter and knocks his ball into the hole with ease. Our score is tied. As usual. We are neck and neck like we always have been.

But we are not the same.

Liam finds a way to the top by any means possible, and he’ll knock anyone out of the way to get there and stay there.

I am not that man. I will never be that man. And I am going to see to it that he stops being that man too, before anyone else gets hurt.

“Game. Until next time,” I say, grabbing my things and walking away.