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I put off opening the letter until after lunch, despite my dad and my...boyfriend?...trying to get me to all through the uncomfortable meal.
I can’t believe I have a boyfriend.
We’re finishing lunch now. While Brody and I are not great conversationalists and the situation is fraught with awkwardness, my dad is excellent at small talk and carries the heavy lifting of discussion despite the unease I sense between him and Brody and the day drinking my father started after I got home.
It’s all so strange. Dad and I don’t eat together that often, though he says he enjoys my cooking. And now I have a guest, which also doesn’t happen...ever. He probably never thought I’d bring a boy home for a meal. I’m sure he gave that idea up several years ago.
Brody is watching me like he thinks I’m going to crack into a million pieces, but I’m not going to. Either I get on the show or I don’t.
I’d almost rather not know.
It’s clear that not opening the envelope isn’t an option, however, so Brody gets out of his chair and kneels on the floor next to my me, a reassuring hand on my knee. I shoot a quick glance at my dad, whose eyes are narrowed, but he doesn’t say anything else.
My hands are shaking. I hate this. All this feeling. I’m not sure why I set myself up for it. What if it says no? What if the man next to me changes his mind about me? What if my dad loses interest in me again?
“Babe,” Brody says, squeezing my knee. “There’s smoke coming out of your ears again. Stop thinking so hard and open the envelope. We’ll deal with whatever it says.”
I nod. Open it. Scan it while holding my breath. Read it again.
“I’m in,” I say. “I tape this summer.”
I’m swooped into Brody’s arms, surrounded by the scent of trees and man. “I’m so proud of you, nutmeg.”
My dad is reading it, smiling. “You weren’t this excited when I bought you a car.”
I wipe the unfamiliar tears from my cheeks. “I appreciate the car, Dad. I appreciate everything you do for me. I know I’m not the daughter you probably expected—”
“Your mom would be so proud. She’d get a kick out of this. And your grandma, wow, she’d just be jealous. She loved that Alex Trebek.”
“She did?”
He nods. “Let me get the Champagne. And then after we toast, I want to look at my new office again.”
Brody hasn’t let go of me. He and my father share some kind of conversation without words. Since conversations with words are confusing enough for me, I don’t try to decode it.
Brody clears his throat. “I still have another week’s work, sir.”
“I know. But what you’ve done looks great so far. Cunningham is going to be livid that mine is better than his.”
“Well, you paid me a lot more than Mr. Cunningham did.”
The room seems less tense as they look at each other with a little nod of respect.
“I have so much practice to do,” I say. One glass of Champagne, then I need to get to work.
When my dad leaves the room. Brody thrusts his hand up my shirt. “You can practice, but you’re doing it at my house.”
“Brody—”
“Pack a bag, Megan.” He squeezes my breast once. Then another time before sliding his hand out of my shirt. “We face everything together now. That’s the deal.”
“My dad...”
“Your dad knows we’re together. I told you last night that once my cock got into you, you were mine. No turning back.”
I don’t want to go back. “You’re so bossy.”
“You like it.”