Page 39 of Not That Guy

“This is great,” Bill said happily, chewing his hot dog. “Thanks, Weston. I ain’t been to a ball game in years. I miss it.” It was the top of the eighth inning, and the Mets were leading.

“Anytime you want, come up. I’ve got season tickets.”

“No shit, whoa. Great.”

I relaxed in my seat with my hot dog and beer, soaking up the late-afternoon sun. It truly had been a perfect day.

“Weston Lively? What do you think of your father’s repudiation of your relationship?” A burly, middle-aged man with a press pass around his neck leaned in to talk to him. “He’s ahead in the polls for Tuesday’s primaries. Are you choosing your boyfriend over your family?”

I rose to my feet as Weston’s lips drew up in a snarl. “I’m a private citizen, and you’re harassing me.”

“Come on, Weston. Is this the boyfriend? Does it bother you that his mother was a drug addict and a prostitute?”

My stomach went into free fall, and Weston jumped to his feet, his fist cocked. “Get the hell out of here,” he snarled. “Now.”

I sank to my seat. Silent. Frozen.

“He said get outta his face,” Bill shouted.

With a smirk on his lips, the reporter strolled away, and Weston put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t listen to what that idiot said. I don’t give a damn, and neither should you. We know your mother had left all that behind.”

“What’s he talking about?” Confused, Bill looked to me for an explanation.

I hadn’t told him what Madden had revealed, and I wasn’t about to do it at Citifield, with fifty thousand people surrounding us. “Let’s go home. I’ll explain there.”

We left our seats, and Weston called for a car while I steered Bill with my hand on his shoulder.

The traffic was predictably awful, and the drive to the city took more than an hour.

Weston tried to keep us amused with stories of his failed attempts at little league and water polo, but I was too tense to enjoy it.

At the apartment, I sat beside Weston and retold the story Madden had relayed to me. To my surprise, tears ran down Bill’s face, and he covered his eyes with his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“A couple of years after you came to us, a woman called. She said she was your mother and wanted to see you. We were so hesitant because we didn’t know if she was telling the truth—how did she get our phone number?

Plus, even if it was true, we didn’t know if she was still on drugs, and you were having all that trouble in school.

We called the social worker, but they were so jammed up, it took several weeks before we tried the number she left, but it was disconnected.

” Anguish tore at his voice. “Maybe…maybe if we’d known she wasn’t on drugs and said yes, things would’ve been different. ”

Grief, shock, and sadness swept through me, and it took a few seconds to process Bill’s words. I left Weston to crouch by Bill’s chair, gazing up into the face of the only father I’d ever known.

“I-I don’t blame you. You couldn’t have known, and you were only trying to protect me.

I understand.” Bill rested a hand on my head.

“Most likely I wouldn’t have wanted to see her anyway.

I was so angry with her when I was young for taking drugs and abandoning me.

But eventually I forgave her. It’s taken this long for the truth to come out, and I don’t have it in me to hold it against her.

Who knows what she went through?” I wiped at my eyes.

“She could’ve gotten rid of me, and I’d never have been born.

So no matter how hard I had it, I’ll always be grateful to her. ”

The intercom buzzer rang, and frowning, Weston went to answer it. I heard his harsh voice, but he was too far away to make out what he was saying. I stood, and Bill heaved himself out of the chair.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna take a nap.”

Concerned, I held him by the shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, sure, kiddo. I’m good. Just a lotta runnin’ around. I’m used to snoozing by the pool.” He patted my arm and trudged to the bedroom.

The bell rang, and I walked toward the foyer and stopped in my tracks. Preston Lively stood at the door.

“I’d like to come in and talk, Weston.”

Jaw clenched, Weston stepped aside to let him in. “What do you want? We have nothing to say to each other.”

“That may be true, but I have a proposition for you.” Preston strode inside, and spotting me, veered away. “This is your friend.”

“He’s my boyfriend. My lover.” Weston took my hand. “What proposition?”

I whispered in Weston’s ear, “Maybe you and your father should talk privately.”

“I have no secrets from you,” Weston murmured to me. He addressed his father. “You can’t be here to pay me off because I have enough money that nothing you could offer would matter. So what is it? And please be brief, because we have company.”

Preston cleared his throat. “It’s very bad for my campaign that I’m at odds with my child.”

“Oh, Daddy, dearest. I didn’t know you cared,” Weston sneered. “And?” He folded his arms.

“But I can’t condone this…this situation you’ve decided to embroil the family in.

So I’ve come to put this forward as a way to make it work: you and your…

friend stay out of the public eye, don’t make any statements to the press—or better yet, you can state you’re single again.

In exchange for that, I will let you see Emily as often as you want. ”

Evil comes in all forms, but to use the love of a brother for his sister was so diabolical, so disgusting, I shook my head. “Jesus, that’s cold.”

“No one is asking you,” Preston snapped.

Weston had remained silent, and I waited, wondering what he’d say. Much as I knew he’d stand up for us, giving him the space to build a relationship with his little sister was paramount.

“It’s amazing that you’ve managed to prove you’re a worse person than I’d even imagined. You’ll do anything to win this election, even use your children. What an awful, terrible man you are.”

Preston cleared his throat. “We both get what we want. I don’t see the problem.”

Face filled with thunder and eyes blazing, Weston advanced on his father.

“You don’t, but I do. Your threats won’t work on me, old man.

God forbid someone like you becomes president.

You have no feelings for anyone else, and you’ve just proved you’ll do and say anything to get what you want.

And what’s worse, you’ll use coercion and lies.

” His lips thinned. “Not a good look for you.”

“So you’ve made the decision that your sex life is worth more than Emily. I should’ve known.”

A flush rose over Weston’s face, and his hands balled into fists. “Don’t you ever say that. I love Emily. But I won’t be bullied or blackmailed into pretending I don’t love Brenner. I’ll never deny him.”

“You stupid fool. You’d have the world at your door. You could be president one day if you’d only see it my way.”

“What way is that?” Bill called out from the opposite side of the room.

“Who the hell are you?” Preston demanded.

“I’m Brenner’s father. And you better not threaten either one of them.”

Preston snorted with laughter. “Now who’s threatening whom? What do you think you can do about anything?” With an arrogant smirk, he gave his back to Bill who, to my surprise, grinned.

“I might not’ve gone to fancy schools, but I watched enough television to know what to do.” He held up his phone and hit the screen. A video appeared, and Preston’s voice came out of the speaker.

“ But I can’t condone this…this situation you’ve decided to embroil the family in.

So I’ve come to put this forward as a way to make it work: you and your…

friend stay out of the public eye, don’t make any statements to the press—or better yet, you can state you’re single again.

In exchange for that, I will let you see Emily as often as you want. ”

Bill silenced the video and walked to Weston and me as he talked. “So here’s how I see it goin’ down. You’re gonna let Weston here see his little sister, and you ain’t gonna make him and Brenner hide that they’re together.”

Preston grew red. “Are you blackmailing me? Me? ”

Holding tight to his phone, Bill crossed his arms. “What’s good for the goose, ya know? Now whaddya say?”

“How do I know you won’t use this against me for anything else?”

“Well, now, I guess you don’t. But see, here’s the difference. Unlike you, I love my son and I’d never do anything to hurt him, or Weston.” Bill glared at Preston.

The senator adjusted his shirt cuffs and huffed. “You can arrange all correspondence regarding Emily with Paige.” Without another word, he walked out of the apartment.

Weston’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you. That was…wow. I’ve got nothing.”

I hugged Bill. “Thank you. Where did you learn about doing that?”

“I told ya. I watch a lotta television. FBI and Law and Order are my favorites.” He snickered.

Weston hugged him. “Thank you, Bill.”

“That’s what you do for family.”