| |
THE BIG, DUMB JERK standing at my office door grinned like he had won a million bucks. A formerly athletic man who had gone soft, his shoulders had become thicker, his waistline rounder, and he had stuffed himself into what he probably thought was his best suit, not even bothering with a tie. His face was pink from a recent shave and his brown hair had gone gray.
“Jimmy!” he shouted at me, like he hadn’t walked out on his family.
“Dad?” I managed.
Paul Cooper took that as an invitation and lumbered in, opening his arms wide as if this was actually a happy family reunion.
Spoilers: It wasn’t.
Paul Cooper, a failed actor and family man, had left my mother — and, by extension, my younger sister and me — about fifteen years ago without much of an explanation. Or maybe he had given one. At the time I was sliding deep into my addictions, with my career cratering... Or maybe because my career was cratering, I got deeper into my addictions? Tomato, potato. Anyway, maybe Paul did explain himself back then, but I wasn’t exactly paying attention to things like that. And with Mom running her law firm and my sister, Erika, the rock of the Cooper family, keeping the house together, maybe no one else had time to catch me up.
And now, here he was, Paul Cooper in the flesh, embracing me as I choked on his cheap cologne. Good times.
I looked behind him at Nora, my twenty-something assistant, who blushed with embarrassment. She could read the room and had realized that it had been a mistake for her to leave Paul unattended in reception to come and tell me he was here. Nora, simply the best in every other situation, had the decency to look apologetic as she looped a bit of blonde hair behind her ear.
This Monday morning had been going so well too. Saturday I had solved the biggest, most public case of my life as a private detective. It had been a case no one (see also: my mother) thought I would be able to solve. After all, I was a former child star and recovering addict who had become the in-house detective of his mom’s law firm. As such, I had just been thrust back into the limelight. That’s not exactly a winning pitch. No one was really expecting much from me.
In the end, I saved the client, helped put Cooper and Associates back on firmer financial ground, and was back in the public’s good graces after years of being a Hollywood cautionary tale. This Nickelodeon Kids Choice Award winner was back on top.
Instead of celebrating, however, I had a whole new problem to deal with.
“Should I call security?” mouthed Nora, carefully enunciating each word.
I considered it for a hot second — how good would it be to see him dragged away? — but, no. I shook my head. This was something I should take care of. Quietly. No good would come of my mother and/or sister finding him here.
The embrace ended, but before I could step away, Paul grabbed me by the shoulders, still grinning. He was always happy to pretend that no moment was actually uncomfortable. “You’re looking great!” He lightly bro-punched me in the arm. All vim and vigor with this guy.
“Yeah. Well. Sobriety. It’ll do that.” And that’s all I really had to give him. What do you say to someone you haven’t seen or heard from in forever — especially if it’s your father and you’ve already come to terms with the fact that (a) he was an asshole and (b) you totally don’t have any daddy issues? Ok, maybe no daddy issues.
Hating the silence, Paul spun away from me and looked out my office windows. “Wow. What a view.”
It totally was. From Cooper and Associates’ offices in Century City, you could see the rest of L.A., all the way to the Pacific.
Paul nodded at the horizon, then turned back around and offered a hand to Nora. “Paul Cooper.” He nodded in my direction. “His dad.” As if that was somehow going to impress her.
I pulled his hand away lest she be tempted to shake it. I didn’t need Paul forming any relationships with the people in my life. He wasn’t going to be here for long. “This is Nora. My assistant.”
“Jimmy, I’m trying to say hello,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, I get that.” I did not need Paul Cooper committing sexual harassment in front of me. “Does anyone else know you’re here?”
He frowned, pulling his head back. “Anyone else? Like who?”
JFC. “Like Erika. Or Mom. This is her law firm, after all.”
He grinned again and said proudly, “Oh, no. I was trying to surprise you all.”
Paul Cooper had a talent for asking for forgiveness rather than permission.
Oh, shit. Did I get that from him?
Saving that particular existential crisis for another day, I turned and I asked Nora, “Do you think either of them saw him?”
She shook her head. “Both are in meetings. At least, I know your mother is. I haven’t seen your sister.”
A quick nod and I said, “Perfect. Go swear reception to secrecy — make sure they know their lives depend on it — and then clear a path from my office to the elevators.”
Nora turned and left.
Paul snorted. “Come on, Jimmy. What are you doing? This isn’t funny.”
“Isn’t funny?” I peeked out of my office door, making sure Mom wasn’t marching down the hall with a torch and pitchfork.
She wasn’t. Instead, Greta Cooper was behind the glass walls that made up the conference room, sitting at the head of the table, holding court in an emerald-green suit. Her gray hair was combed back, her fingers laced together on the table. Lucky for me, she seemed deep into the process of castigating one of the associates.
“It’s hysterical,” I assured him, not letting my eyes waver from my mother. The woman had the reaction time of a coiled viper. “A laugh riot, Paul.”
He put his hands on his hips, all bluster. “Oh, I’m Paul to you now?”
I glared at him. “Better than Deadbeat Dad.”
He blushed.
I had wounded him. Good.
I closed my office door and turned on him. “What are you even doing here?” I realized I had asked the wrong first question. I revised it. “Where the fuck have you been?”
He hesitated. “Vegas.”
“Vegas? Four-hours-away Vegas?”
Paul Cooper shrugged. “Is there another one?”
I squeezed my forehead, hoping to keep my brain from exploding. “You’ve been so close the whole time, and you never thought of calling or — ”
“I’m here now!”
Unbelievable.
There was a gentle double knock on the door. I opened it to find Nora standing there. “It’s clear,” she whispered with a thumbs-up. Then she headed back to reception.
I said to Paul, “We’re leaving now.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going back to Vegas.”
He put his arms out wide, pleading. “I just got here!”
I grabbed him by one of his outstretched arms and yanked him into the hallway. “And it’s been great,” I muttered. “Five stars. I’ll be talking about the whole five minutes to my therapist for weeks.”
I should really think about getting a therapist.
He leaned back like a toddler, trying to slow us down. I grunted as we passed Dave, the office manager who now sat at my old desk, eating one of the donuts I had brought in as celebratory treat for everyone. He paused, donut to mouth, and watched the struggle go by.
“Can’t we at least talk?” said Paul as he huffed and puffed in protest.
“What have we been doing this whole time?” I countered.
He tried out his Dad voice. “James.”
It failed to impress. Too little, too late.
We entered reception. Nora pushed the elevator button, rapid-fire, while the two receptionists found something to do to keep their eyes busy.
“At least let me buy you breakfast,” he offered.
“It’s eleven in the morning.”
“Lunch then!”
“Still eleven in the morning, Paul.”
He sighed, defeated.
The elevator appeared with a ding, and Nora stopped pushing the button. The door opened, and I nudged Paul inside. I stepped in after — I couldn’t trust he’d get into his car by himself — and jabbed the lobby button. I nodded my thanks to Nora as the door closed.
As we headed down, Paul harrumphed in the corner of the elevator, crossing his arms. “This isn’t how I thought it would go.”
“Really? Sorry to disappoint. But as I learned early, life is populated by people who will disappoint you.” I shook my head. “I gotta ask...” Did I? I did. “After all this time, why are you here now?”
Of course, it wasn’t just now that he was here, Paul had also stumbled onto my day. My moment.
Paul was about to reply when the elevator paused halfway down. The doors opened, and a couple of lawyers in flashy suits stepped on, staring at their phones. The whole building was riddled with them.
Paul tried to catch my eye, wanting to answer my question, but I changed my mind, instead taking a real interest in the elevator’s stainless steel ceiling. I didn’t need the lawyers listening in on my family drama.
The doors finally opened onto the lobby. The lawyers got out, and Paul and I followed.
“We could get coffee,” he said.
I guided him to the exit. “I don’t want to get coffee with you.”
“Fifteen minutes. That’s all I need.”
“Fifteen minutes feels like a big ask.”
I pushed through the revolving doors, and we were outside. It was already hot and bright, and I regretted leaving my sunglasses upstairs. That meant I’d have to squint and squinting makes my weird faces weirder.
(I don’t actually have a weird face. My face is fine. But you can only read so many discussions in the tabloids and online about your face and the faces it makes before you get self-conscious about the whole thing. The lesson here, kids: Never read the comments.)
Paul pulled out his shades and slipped them on. Of course, he had his.
“Listen, Jimmy — ”
I held out my hand. “Your ticket.”
“My what?”
“Your valet ticket. I assume you parked here.”
He reached into his pocket, then paused. “Oh, shit. We left before someone could validate my parking.”
This guy.
“The first twenty minutes are free.”
He pulled out the ticket and handed it over. I snatched the ticket from him and went to the red-vested valet, who looked at my father and then me. “Yes. He’s my dad. Can you just...?”
The valet shrugged, took the ticket, grabbed the keys from the rack, and jogged down into the garage to get the car.
Paul wandered over, hands in his pockets. “Quite a place.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom’s had her firm here for, like, twenty years. You’ve been here.”
He looked back up, at the building and then around. “Yeah. OK. Yeah, I have. But” — he pointed around — “the area has changed a lot. It didn’t look familiar.”
And he was telling the truth.
I have this thing. I can sense when someone’s lying to me. Maybe it’s all that time I spent as an actor. I can see how a person holds themselves, hear the tone of their voice. If they lie, I get a sort of buzz in the back of my head, which is pretty helpful in my line of work.
And, oddly, the whole time I had been around Paul, no buzz had been detected.
“I really want to get some coffee. You want some coffee?” It wasn’t quite a smile, but his lip curled, and for a second there, I saw my dad again. The guy who had been my partner in crime. The guy with a big heart who could encourage and entertain. The guy who had been there for me.
Until he wasn’t.
“I’m good,” I said.
He tried again. “I just want to catch up.”
Buzz. He didn’t.
“Just google me. You can find all the highlight reels.”
A dull gray Prius arrived. The valet stepped out and handed the keys to my dad. Reluctantly, he took them. As he gripped them in his hand, he said, “I just need a few minutes. To talk about some opportunities.”
I shook my head no.
Paul nodded and took a step toward his car.
“Dad?”
He and I both turned.
Shit.
Erika stood there, cup of coffee in hand, green eyes staring wide at Paul Cooper. She had my brown hair, though she had had the good sense during puberty to grow a few inches taller. She got her fashion sense from our mom, and today was dressed in an elegant dark blue suit.
I wanted to disappear. I had been so close to getting away with it. But then Erika just had to go out for coffee, totally ignoring the fact that there’s perfectly terrible coffee available in our break room.
Erika finally managed to get out, “What are you doing here?”
Sensing an opportunity to throw a Hail Mary, Paul turned to his daughter. “I was hoping to talk to Jimmy about — ”
I stepped in and said, “Leaving. He was leaving.”
“Jimmy,” Erika snapped. She turned to him. “Seriously, what are you doing here? What do you want to talk to Jimmy about?”
A flicker passed over Paul’s face. Maybe he was going to be forthcoming. But, no. “You know, this and that.” He shrugged. “Maybe I should’ve called before dropping in.” He smiled at Erika. “You look great. Maybe we could do dinner? This week?”
I could see the hundred different things that Erika wanted to say. It was just a question of which one would be said first.
Paul didn’t give her a chance. He slipped into his car, stiffing the valet on his tip, and was gone.
Which left me holding the bag.
“What just happened?” my sister asked, incredulous. Her green eyes narrowed. “Were you trying to sneak him out?”
Busted.
She sucked her teeth. “Unbelievable. Did he say what he wanted?”
“He didn’t.”
“He wants to talk to you about something.”
“Well, I don’t know what it is.”
She slugged me in the shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“You deserved it.” She pointed after the departing Prius. “Why didn’t you ask him?”
“Because I don’t really want to know.”
She grunted, studying her coffee cup. “Did Mom see him?” she asked.
“No.”
“Because she would have a stroke if she knew he just showed up.” Erika shook her head at the entire situation. “Find out what he wants, Jimmy. And, like, fix it. Make everything go back to how it was.” And with that, she headed back inside, leaving me alone.
I took her meaning, but if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure if I wanted everything to go back to normal normal. I had really been enjoying the new normal, except for the last ten minutes.