Page 53 of The Bad Girl

“So, you’re meeting with him over coffee next week to reaffirm what you suspect are his feelings for you?”

I downcast my eyes. “Well, that was the plan. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Why is that?”

I exhale a long breath, take a seat at my desk, and bury my head in my hands. Harry comes over, sitting on the edge opposite my computer. “Tell me, Nadine, what haven’t you been able to logic your way out of?”

“I met my mother for dinner last night. She told me she and my father are getting a divorce.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate, but what does this have to do with Tom?”

“If my parents can’t make it work after twenty-six years together, what chance do I have? I’m way too similar to my mother. My fatherwasa bad boy, and she married him, and look how that’s turning out.”

“You know, that’s not an uncommon problem, and there are ways around it. My parents have been together now for thirty years. I walked in on them once, my mother was in full latex, and mind you, she’s a socialite. Boring is expected of her.”

“Oh my God! That’s terrible.”

“Actually, it led to one of the best conversations I’ve ever had with my mother. I told her the outfit looked cheap and directed her to quality manufacturers.”

“Wow, it’s good you are able to have those conversations with her. I don’t know what I would do if I walked in on my parents, even as an adult.”

“Oh, I was thirteen at the time.”

“What? How did you know where to shop at thirteen?”

“I’ve always had an eye for fashion. It was an obsession of mine.”

“You’ve officially one-upped every moment I’ve ever had with my mother, thank you very much.”

“And you’ve failed to understand the lesson.”

“What lesson? Don’t shop for cheap latex?”

“No, it’s that my parents have been together now for thirty years, and they’re still going strong. My mom’s from a long line of people born with sticks up their asses, my father is no different. They made it work, and happily so.”

“So, you’re saying that I can be safe and still make myself exciting enough to keep him interested?”

“You? No.” Harry bursts into a fresh round of chuckles. “But other women could.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Harry’s lips purse, like he’s debating whether or not to tell me something. I turn towards my computer, trying not to look overeager.

“My father is dying,” he says flatly.

My head snaps in his direction, and I place a hand on his thigh. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I can’t stand him.”

“Ooookay…”

“When I was eighteen, he sat me down, told me he knew I was gay like I was hiding it or something. He said, “From this day forward, you are no longer gay, and if you choose to remain gay, you will inherit nothing.” Of course, there’s no changing who I am, and I left home that very night.”

“What a shithead! I knew something was going on there, but I had no idea it was so terrible.”

“Maxwell took me in, but I always thought that after time, my father would come around. It appears that will never happen, and when he dies, my three siblings will inherit somewhere in the ballpark of nine-hundred-million dollars. I’ll get nothing. I’ve been coming in early because I can’t sleep, and I want to get my mind off it.”

I sit there, unsure of what to say. Harry is an insufferable twat who has annoyed me for eighteen months, but even I don’t think he deserves that.