Chapter 29 – Ki

 

Alexa flew through the door and slung her purse at her desk. “I’m done.”

“It didn’t go so well?”

“I’ve tried to apologize twice to that man, and he keeps telling me to fuck off, that he doesn’t remember me.”

“Maybe it’s true?”

She huffed and sat in her chair, and pulled her phone out of her purse to inspect it. “Shit, I forgot it was in there.”

“Did it survive your wrath?”

“Looks fine,” she mumbled tossing it back in her purse. “I’m done.”

“You said that.”

“For good this time.”

“Okay,” I said smiling at her.

“Seriously, Ki, I mean it this time.”

“I believe you.”

She smiled. “No, you don’t.”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

I stood and said, “So, this looks okay?”

“To meet your father? Yes, Ki, it’s just jeans and – wait, is that my white blouse?”

“Yes, it looks good, right?”

“Duh,” she said sarcastically. “It’s mine.”

Today was the day I was going to meet with my father. My biological father. A drug lord; a man who was into a lot of bad things according to Lucas, who I haven’t spoken to in weeks. I hated that about him, my father, but I was trying not to judge the man. He was my father, and he was sick. My mother hasn’t returned my calls, so a week ago I stopped leaving messages. Maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t. At this point, it didn’t matter. The DNA test proved he was my father, and that’s all that really mattered. I loved my mom, they just didn’t seem to love me back.

Their loss.

I pulled out a grape sucker and sat back down, waiting for him to show up.

“Are you nervous?” she asked but didn’t wait for me to answer. “You’re nervous. You got a sucker out.”

I pulled the sucker out of my mouth. “Very nervous.”

She scooted her chair over to me and got serious. “Are you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“If I saw him.”

“Nope.”

“You did last time I went to see Tapper.”

“And this time I’m not.”

“But you should ask.”

“I don’t want to know, Lex.”

“I think you do.”

I put my sucker back in my mouth and turned my chair so I was facing my desk and continued to enjoy my treat.

“He was leaving when I got there,” she rushed out. “Looked like he was lost in thought.”

“Okay.”

The man was always lost in his thoughts, and I liked that so much about him. It made him who he was. A non-complicated man who was brilliant, great at his job, and for a brief moment in time, liked me.

Molly called a few times to fill me in, but it hurt too much that it wasn’t coming from him. I was happy to hear he was getting better. He put his big fat ego aside and was recovering with the help of therapy.

I really did miss him.

So, the last two weeks I’ve been working like crazy and watching a ton of shows to pass the time. I scrubbed every inch of the apartment. I bought a new bed set that was white and had peonies all over it. I finished Jewel’s book and bought a few more of hers, which I also finished. I did everything I could to pass the time and keep me from thinking of Prescot. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes I drank wine and let a few tears fall.

I finished my sucker and started tapping my fingers on my desk. The sun started to set, but it wasn’t dark out yet. I watched a few people walking outside as cabs came and went up and down our street. I was waiting for a town car to show up. I wasn’t sure if my father was coming or if I’d be meeting him there. I wasn’t even sure where I was going. Lucas was out there somewhere, and I’m assuming he’d be with me tonight, hiding in the shadows.

“Is he late?” she asked, and I saw her walk toward the door.

I grabbed my purse and stood by her. “Few minutes.”

“I hate it when people are late.”

“Same.”

“He’ll show.”

I chuckled. “He better or he’s not getting my bone marrow.”

“It’s funny, and it’s not.”

“I know.”

She pointed. “Looks fancy.”

“They all look the same,” I commented when the car slowly stopped in front of our door. The driver, wearing all black, got out and came around the back of the car to open the back-passenger door.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with?” she asked, and I turned to her.

“I’m a big girl.”

She hugged me. “I know but still, Ki, this is huge.”

“Totally huge,” I whispered in her ear and let her go.

“Oh shit,” she muttered, and I turned to look out the window.

It wasn’t my father.

It was Prescot.

Standing next to the car with a cane.

I rushed out of the door, and I knew Alexa was behind me.

“Ki,” he growled out in the most apologetic way.

God, I missed the way he said my name.

I went to him, and he knew what I wanted. He bent down, I got on my tiptoes, and our mouths locked. I missed him so much. I tried not to cry when he kissed me harder, or when his hand snaked around my waist.

“What are you doing here?” I asked against his lips.

“I couldn’t call.” His blue eyes were dark and sad. He held my gaze, his eyes saying everything that I knew he couldn’t. I felt his sorrow for the time we missed together, the pain he felt when he rejected and pushed me away. I felt his hurt and frustration toward his body not performing as he wanted it to. I felt the torment and guilt he had put himself through over these last few weeks. I felt his anger at himself for not being able to say what he thought I wanted to hear. But what Prescot didn’t understand was that I didn’t need words with him. His eyes told me everything, his lips begged for my forgiveness, and I gave it to him, without hesitation.

“This means more.” I placed a small kiss on his lips, and then he adjusted his cane and I stepped back. “I’m glad you’re walking again.”

“A little.”

“I like your cane.”

“It’s black.”

“I still like it.”

He smiled.

I smiled back.

I had my Prescot back.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.” I looked away as another town car pulled up behind his, and my smile fell. I had to leave.

“I have plans, Prescot.”

He looked at the car and then back to me. “I’m sorry, Ki, I should have called.”

I put my hand on his arm. “This was better, but I made plans with my father.”

“You’re telling him?”

“Yes, and he suggested dinner.”

I watched my father stand from the car and button his suit. One of his bodyguards also stepped out of the car behind him. My father nodded at me, and I gave him a small smile.

“Can I come over tonight?”

Prescot gripped my hand. “Please.”

I leaned up and gave him one last kiss and then walked toward my father.

“Invite him, Ki. I’d like to meet him.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” As much as I wanted to bring Prescot, I hadn’t seen him in weeks. It felt like we were going to be okay, but this wasn’t the right time. There was a lot Prescot and I needed to talk about before we moved forward.

“It’ll be fun,” he said patting my shoulder and walking passed me. I turned and watched him and Prescot shake hands and exchange words; well, my father did but Prescot did nod a few times.

Alexa was inside making all kinds of hand gestures and funny faces at me. Another distraction. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and shook it at her. She nodded and left to go get hers.

I sent her a text and then shoved it back in my pocket when my father started walking back to me. “He’ll meet us there.”

I looked at Prescot who had his back to me, getting into the car. After we were settled inside, I shot a message to Prescot apologizing for the ambush. That’s what it felt like. My father’s two bodyguards were sitting across from us, and I’ve never been so intimidated in my life.

“How have you been, Ki?”

“Fine,” I replied, waiting for Prescot to reply.

“Thank you for having this meeting with me.”

Meeting was the word all right. I was so uncomfortable.

My phone vibrated, and it was a message from Alexa, Awkward!!!

I replied, No Shit!

“I found a nice Italian restaurant; do you like Italian?”

“Yes.”

More awkward silence while I waited to hear from Prescot. Maybe he didn’t have his phone with him, but I highly doubted that. I should have gone with him.

Why didn’t I ride with him?

“Is something wrong?” my father asked as the car came to a stop at a red light.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“This is awkward. Prescot and I had, well, we took a break and tonight he showed up unexpectedly, and then you invited him to dinner. He said yes because he wanted to protect me, and I hope because he missed me. In all honesty, I’d rather be spending my night with him.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t know you either, Mr. Erbach, so it’s going to be a very uncomfortable night. I told Prescot about you, but again, we kind of just got back together.”

“I’d love to cut our night short, Ki, but I don’t want to. Regardless of the fact I need your bone marrow, you’re my daughter. I never wanted kids, and now I have one. I’ve missed so much of your life,” he paused and I said nothing because I felt bad for being rude. “You don’t have to call me father or visit me on holidays. I just ask for some of your time which you’ve granted me tonight, and I’ve been looking forward to it since we made plans.”

“I’m sorry if I was rude. I don’t know how to act around you.”

“Act like yourself.”

“That I can do.”

Prescot was waiting outside of his car when we arrived, and I let myself out and went to him. “You didn’t text me back.”

“I wanted to come, Ki.”

“This is the first time I’m actually having a conversation with him.”

“Right.” He glanced at my side, and my father spoke, “I’ll meet you both inside.”

He walked away, and I hugged Prescot. I listened to his heartbeat for a few seconds then said, “This is so weird.”

“I’m here,” he said kissing the top of my head.

“It helps,” I replied, looking at his cane. “Your legs okay?”

“I should sit soon.”

We held hands as we slowly walked inside. As soon as we were in, I was overcome with a feeling of warmth. The scent of homemade fresh bread, tomato sauce, thick, cheesy pasta, and beef cooking made my stomach rumble. A huge mural of Venice, Italy was painted behind the host station, with greenery dispersed sporadically to make the mural come alive. Soft acoustic music played in the background, the guitar notes hitting a beautiful melody. Someone was there to greet us and showed us to a table. The restaurant was dimly lit, with short white votive candles perched on each table. Crisp, white linens covered the tables, which contrasted to the shiny red vinyl that covered the booth cushions. A mixture of booths and tables dotted the large dining area, and beyond it, wooden swinging doors that led to the kitchen and a sizable wooden bar with wine glasses hanging from the top.  I looked around and all the booths that lined the wall were empty. There was one bartender at the bar, and one person standing at the table in the middle of the room, where my father was standing. Waiting.

“Where is everyone?” I asked him.

“I thought it best we had a little privacy.”

“I don’t get it.”

Prescot pulled a chair out for me, and I sat; he pulled the other chair around the table and sat next to me, so we were both facing my father.

“We’ll need another chair and place setting, please,” he told the waiter. He grabbed a chair for my father and he sat. “We have the restaurant for the night.”

I gasped. “You have that much money?”

He chuckled. “I have that much money.”

He really was a big shot drug dealer. He bought out the restaurant for the rest of the night, and that wasn’t cheap. This was New York City. My mind swam with the possibilities. Maybe he owned the restaurant, like you see in those mafia movies I’ve watched too many of. Maybe he expanded his Miami empire to New York City. Maybe this restaurant is one of his ‘legal fronts’ and he deals drugs by the pound out the back exit. Or maybe the owner of the restaurant owned my father a favor and he decided to cash it in tonight. Whatever it was, my father showed me just how powerful he was by this gesture, and I found myself scooting my chair a touch closer to Prescot’s.

He ordered some fancy wine, and it was delicious. Prescot said no; I wasn’t sure why but that left more for me. He held one of my hands under the table, and the other one held my wine glass. Prescot and I ordered the same thing, spaghetti and meatballs, and my father ordered something with artichokes, yuck.

“I’m going to be nice and not keep you waiting any longer,” I said relaxing into Prescot, while my father waited for me to speak. The wine was settling my nerves quite nicely. “I’m going to give you my bone marrow.”

He clasped his hands in front of him. “Ki, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say thank you.”

He met my eyes. “Thank you.”

“I think you knew I’d say yes.”

“After our first meeting, and then a month of silence; I didn’t know what to think.”

“Well, you can have it.”

He sat back in his chair. “I appreciate it.”

I swallowed the rest of my wine and poured another glass.