Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

MARLOW

I woke up early the day after my talk at the college, disappointed it was time to leave my parents' house again. I had meant what I said to Spencer. My dad was getting older. It was strange because it wasn't like he aged twenty years in a week. I just didn't notice until that night sitting by the fire.

He was my daddy. He would always be my daddy. But looking at him now, seeing the lines etched deeply into his face and the silver in his hair that wasn't there last year, it struck me how much I hadn't been there for him. I was caught up in my own life, my own success, and I hadn't been there for him the way he had been there for me my entire life. It was a punch to my gut I wasn't expecting.

I walked downstairs and found him already in the kitchen, making coffee. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. "Morning, kiddo," he said.

I moved to hug him, smelling his familiar scent. He wrapped his strong arms around me and held me close. It felt different this time, more precious, as if time itself had slowed down to allow us this moment of connection. I pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, seeing a depth of love and understanding that I hadn't fully appreciated before. I hated that I had neglected the most important person in my life.

"Dad," I started, my voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I've been so focused on my career and making a name for myself that I haven't been there for you like I should have been. I promise, I'm going to do a better job of getting home."

He chuckled and released me. "Don't go burying me and picking out a headstone just yet. I'm not that old."

"I know." I smiled. "You're going to live forever if I have anything to say about it."

He grinned. "No thank you."

His smile was reassuring, but the weight of my neglect lingered. I poured myself a cup of coffee, trying to shake off the guilt that gnawed at me.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

"She went for her morning walk already," he replied.

"I'll stick around until she gets back, but then I have to skedaddle," I said.

"I'm glad you came home for a visit," he said. "Even if it was only a couple of days. And even if it's because Rhett is hurt."

Mom came home a few minutes later with rosy cheeks and wearing her walking gear.

"You're still here," she said slightly out of breath. "I told Nancy I had to go but she gets to talking. Her dog brings home the weirdest things."

"It's fine," I assured her. "I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

Rhett was propped up in the living room, watching the morning news. I walked over and gave him a hug. "Be careful and quit milking this broken leg thing," I teased.

"I'll be on my feet in a few days," he said. "These doctors don't know how much of a bad ass I am."

"Don't say ass ," Mom called out.

"You just said it," Rhett called back.

"Hush."

Rhett laughed. "I got her."

"Don't give Mom too much of a hard time," I said, smiling.

"She loves it," he joked. "Be good to my truck."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "It's like a tank. Do you know how hard it's going to be to navigate that thing in Manhattan?"

"Feel free to walk back to the city," he retorted.

I scowled at him as I walked out the front door. "You first."

"You're welcome," he called out.

"Yeah, thank you."

I climbed into Rhett's truck and started the drive back to New York City. It was everything I hated in a vehicle: big, clunky, and impossible to park in the city. But with my car dead and Rhett unable to drive after his accident, this seemed like the simplest solution. His car was totaled, but he wasn't going to be driving right away.

I connected my phone to the Bluetooth and put on my podcast. With the long drive in front of me, it was going to keep me occupied.

I let the familiar voice of my favorite true crime podcaster echo through the truck. The intriguing story distracted me from the monotony of the drive. Suddenly, my phone rang, cutting my podcast midstory. I couldn't see the caller ID, but I assumed it was Kyla checking in. She knew I was coming back today. "Hey, Kyla," I answered cheerfully.

"About time you answered my calls," a voice snapped back, thick with irritation.

My stomach tightened. Dakota. I immediately used the controls on the steering wheel to turn down the volume.

"This better be important or I'm hanging up," I said, keeping my voice steady. I'd told him a thousand times to stop calling me. Our divorce had been finalized for almost six months. All our assets were split, and nobody owed anyone spousal support. I had paid him a big lump sum to put his sorry ass behind me, and it was worth every penny.

It was done. Finished. What could he possibly need from me now?

"I saw you in a car with Spencer Kane yesterday. What was that about?" he demanded.

I almost burst out laughing. "I was in a car with Spencer Kane?" I echoed, my tone incredulous. "Are you kidding me right now?"

I didn't know if I should be surprised or concerned that he saw me. Was he watching me? That sent a shiver down my spine.

"Don't fuck with me, Marlow. Are you two hooking up?" His voice was dripping with jealousy and accusation. "I saw him at your parents' house getting pretty friendly. I always knew they wanted you hooked up with some rich asshole."

I hung up. I didn't have to put up with his nonsense anymore. The paranoid loser could stew in his own petty juices. I shook my head, turning up the volume for the podcast again. It still confused me that I had fallen in love with Dakota in the first place. In my defense, he was a different man.

Or had he just been good at pretending to be a decent man?

Was I really that na?ve? I had been taken in by the idea of love. I wanted to be in love and loved in return. I wanted the kind of marriage my parents had. I wanted a family. The divorce had been hard, not because I was losing a man I loved but because I was losing the dream.

The phone rang again, interrupting my podcast. I ignored it, waiting for it to go to voicemail. The podcast started again. When the phone rang a third time, I grew frustrated.

I took a deep breath, refusing to play his games. I patiently waited for the phone to stop so I could get back to my podcast.

When the phone didn't ring for a whole minute, I let out a sigh of relief. He had gotten the message.

My phone ringing cut through my podcast once again. "Son of a bitch."

Finally, I answered, my patience wearing thin. "Dakota, mind your own business. I'm not your wife. You don't get to keep tabs on me anymore. I don't owe you answers or explanations. Now stop embarrassing yourself and move on. Seriously. This is too much. Just stop calling me!" I hung up again and blocked his number. Enough was enough.

The podcast started up again. I didn't understand why Dakota wouldn't let it go. I truly didn't believe he actually loved me all that much. I had a feeling it was more about thinking I was his property. He was pissed I wasn't his to control. He wanted me under his thumb, which was one of the reasons we divorced in the first place.

As I drove on, my thoughts were consumed by the sudden intrusion of Dakota into my peaceful drive. He was a reminder of a past I was desperately trying to keep behind me. I had moved on, but he kept trying to drag me back in time to the worst mistake I had ever made.

Spencer Kane's name also continued to echo in my mind but my feelings about him were much more complicated. I was flattered he was interested in my work but I sure as hell didn't want another man in my life trying to control me. No matter how much he blew my skirt up.

The city skyline gradually came into view as I neared Manhattan, the towering buildings a stark contrast to the open roads I had been driving on. I would be safe once I was back in my city.

I navigated the streets to my apartment, praying I didn't sideswipe anyone. The truck felt like a tank. I was convinced the lanes had shrunk. There was no way they were always this narrow.

With my heart in my throat, I squeezed between a taxi and a box truck. "Please don't let me scratch his truck or another car," I murmured. "No more unpleasant surprises today."

How I was going to park this damn thing was beyond me. I considered giving the keys to a man to have him park the truck for me, but knowing my luck, he'd drive off in it and Rhett would break another bone throwing a fit.

I finally found a parking spot big enough for the truck after what felt like an eternity. I maneuvered carefully, wishing this thing could park itself like my car. As I turned off the engine, I let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be done with the stressful drive. I was sweatier than I wanted to be so early in the day.

Gathering my bag, I climbed down from the truck and headed toward my apartment building. The cool evening air brushed against my skin like a lover's touch. The familiar smells of the city greeted me. I was feeling back in my element, even though I also missed home.

As I was walking, I caught sight of a billboard with my face on it. "NYC's up and coming marketing superstar, Marlow Graylan, single and ready to mingle," was plastered below my face. I groaned and rolled my eyes. I wished my personal life could be left out of my success, but that was not how the world worked.

I wondered if I could get a similar billboard put up where Dakota could see it. Maybe that would finally get through his stubborn mule skull.

Also, I didn't see why single automatically meant I wanted to mingle. Men were not a priority, and I wasn't exactly feeling trusting after my ex's constant bullshit. I wasn't about to let some strange new man into my life and hope he wasn't two-faced too.

I didn't know who was responsible for the stupid billboard, but I hoped I wasn't paying for it. It was probably my publisher trying to drum up interest for the book. Or my publicist trying to get more people interested in one of my speaking engagements. Why did it have to be so close to my apartment?

I walked into my building and headed straight for the elevator. Once in my spacious loft apartment, I dropped my bags and went to get a drink from the fridge. It was good to be home. I grabbed a banana and threw in a load of laundry before it was time to sit down and get some work done.

I opened my laptop to check my emails. Among the usual work correspondences and spam, one subject line stood out. "Re: the job offer you're going to accept eventually." It was from Spencer. I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. Yes, he was an ass. But he also had me more than a little intrigued.

I clicked on the email, my curiosity piqued. Spencer had laid out a thorough job offer, detailing the role, responsibilities, and benefits. He emphasized the flexibility I'd have and how he valued my independence and expertise. It was clear he'd put a lot of thought into it. He was making sure I didn't feel like I was working for him or anyone else. I appreciated that, but I was still hesitant. A nine-to-five wasn't my thing. Freedom was priceless, too.

Although if it did have a price, Spencer's offer was certainly in the ballpark. It was more than generous.

I leaned back in my chair, pondering the proposal. Again, it was not the proposal I had fantasized about getting from Spencer when I was growing up, but it was interesting.

Part of me wanted to dismiss it out of hand, just to prove a point. But another part of me was seriously tempted. Working with Spencer could be fun. The prospect of collaborating on a larger scale was appealing, too. Right then, it was just me which limited what I could really do beyond pitching and consulting. It would be fun to sit in a room drinking coffee and eating stale donuts at two in the morning on a late-night creative session.

If nothing else, working with some of the biggest names in the business would be great for future prospects.

My phone buzzed with a text from Kyla. "How was the drive? Did you make it back in one piece?"

I quickly replied to her message. "Made it back. Just settling in. And guess what? Spencer sent another job offer."

"OMG! Are you serious? What are you going to do? And would he be interested in hiring an assistant?"

"I'm kicking the idea around. Don't worry. You still have a job. lol"

Kyla's response was immediate. "Do what feels right for you. But it sounds like an amazing opportunity. And hey, you deserve to be happy and successful."

I smiled at her encouragement. "Thanks, Kyla. We'll talk about it later."

I made myself a sandwich. The laptop with the offer was still sitting on the table, taunting me. Spencer's persistence was annoying but also endearing. He believed in me, saw potential in our collaboration. It was a stark contrast to Dakota, who was annoying while always trying to undermine my confidence.