“It’s just that everyone says it’s hard to grow up without a father. But look at you and me. We probably would have been better off.”
I consider what he says, and I can’t deny there’s merit. “I guess it’s the kind of question that can only be answered in the specific. How can we say which would be better for Ronnie without knowing all the details? As for you and me—” I cut myself off with a shake of my head. “These are the kinds of big philosophical questions you shouldn’t discuss without wine. Because if I grew up without a dad, does that mean Ethan would have died?”
He looks at me, then kisses my forehead. “I guess all we can do is live the life we have.”
“Together?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good answer,” I say.
We pause to watch some kids playing catch with parents and volunteers. I lean against him, and he wraps his arms around me. It feels nice. It feels comfortable. And though I don’t want the moment to end, I can’t help the way my mind wanders, thinking about this place, these people. Ollie. Charles.
“You tensed up,” Jackson says, and I frown for being so transparent. “What are you thinking?”
“About what Damien said Friday night,” I admit. “About Reed bringing a civil lawsuit now that the criminal one is wrapped.”
“Mmm.”
“I saw Charles. Have you talked to him about that?”
“That and other things,” Jackson says. “He thinks it’s likely Reed will use the threat of a civil suit as leverage. And since I pled guilty to assault, it’s pretty much a lock.”
“You’d end up paying him damages.”
“Or I let him do the movie and he drops the case.”
“Asshole.”
“I agree. Of course, I had Charles relay that I’ll pay the damages. I can’t predict what they’ll be, of course, but my bank account is doing fine. And I’m not one to bend over to blackmail.”
I shudder. “It’s all such a mess.”
“There’s some good news, at least. Charles told me that Ollie is working hard with Cass. He thinks it’s a good business for franchising and she’s asking all the right questions. Doing her homework. Playing it safe even while making the leap.”
“That is good news.”
He tells me more about who he’s chatted with as we continue down the stone path. We’ve gone quite far before I realize that Jackson is supposed to be working this function. When I call him out for slacking off, he just laughs.
“I still have a few minutes of my free hour. Plus, I’m on my way to my next job.”
“Which is?”
He gives me a flat-eyed stare. “Apparently, I get to be my brother.”
I’m baffled until we arrive at the portable sport court that has been set up as a small tennis court. Damien is there, hitting a ball back and forth over the net with a boy who looks to be about eight.
He sees us and waves, then calls over one of the volunteers to take over for him. He says a few words to the kid, then joins us.
“Thanks for doing this,” Damien says. “I think you’ll enjoy it. The kids get so excited when they hit the ball.”
“So do I,” Jackson says dryly. “Trust me when I say that tennis skill doesn’t run in the family.”
“You’ll do fine.” Damien takes a step back toward the court. “Come on.”
“One second, okay?”
Damien eyes him, then nods. “What’s on your mind?”
Jackson nods toward me. “Sylvia and I had dinner yesterday with Reggie Gale.” He draws a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.”
“Do you?”
“I blamed you for Atlanta. Turns out I should be thanking you.”
“I made a business decision,” Damien says, still in pure business-mode. “Nothing more.”
Jackson studies him for a moment. “All right.” He starts to move toward the court. “Ready?”
“Wait.”
Jackson stops. I stand perfectly still, feeling a lot like an intruder, but I’m afraid if I leave, I’ll disturb whatever is happening between these two men.
“I want to show you something.” Damien pulls out his phone, finds something on it, then passes the device to Jackson.