"I still don't understand why you don't just call him. The poor man is practically begging." Jacqui grinned over the rim of the colorful martini glass. "And begging certainly does have its uses."
I didn't bother to react to her little innuendo, knowing she had said it just to get a reaction from me. Maybe. I was never totally sure of anything when it came to Jacqui.
I rested my head against the arm of the sofa and hugged one of the throw pillows to my chest. "I can't call him."
"Then send him a text."
"I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"Because my father will find out."
"He's not going to find out, cher."
"But he will. Don't ask me how, I just know he will. And then he'll ruin every last chance Nathan might have at playing hockey."
"Your daddy is an ass, cher, but even I don't think he'd go that far."
"Oh, he would. He really would. You didn't see the look on his face. He was so..." My voice drifted off as my mind searched for the right words. Angry, yes. But there'd been something more to it, a kind of ruthlessness I didn't understand and that made no sense to me. Those emotions were still there under his conciliatory apology, lurking just beneath the surface as he tried to stop me from me leaving yesterday morning. I'd been so stunned, so shocked by the side of my father that I had never seen before, that I left without saying a word and came straight to Jacqui's. I hadn't left the small apartment above her shop since, except to meet Marie for a long lunch early this afternoon.
Jacqui muttered something under her breath and I wondered what I missed by being so preoccupied with my own thoughts. I knew better than to ask her to repeat them, though. Whatever it was she'd said, I probably didn't want to know. I was entirely too mired in my own misery to even care and right now, I was fine with that.
Jacqui drained the contents of her glass then pushed up from the overstuffed chair she'd been lounging in. She moved toward me and from the corner of my eye, I saw her hand reach out. I didn't react at all, thinking she was just going to grab my drink since I hadn't bothered to do more than take one tiny sip since she'd mixed it for me. But instead of reaching for my glass, her hand darted out and snagged my phone.
"Hey!" I sat up and made a grab for it but she was already halfway across the living room—not that her living room was very big. She leaned one shoulder against the wall, silently daring me to come after it. I thought about it, for maybe three seconds, then leaned back in defeat. The phone was locked so it wasn't like she could actually do anything.
At least, that's what I thought until her long fingers tapped the screen. I vaulted to my feet, nearly tripping over the low coffee table in my hurry to reach her. She raised the phone over her head, well out of my reach, and grinned down at me.
"You need to answer him."
"And I can't. You know that. And you know why."
She tilted the phone toward her—still out of my reach—and scrolled through the text messages. Her grin faded, replaced by a serious determination I wasn't use to seeing from her. "Judging from all these messages, cher, I think your daddy's long reach of retribution has already found its mark."
"No." I shook my head and repeated the word, louder this time. "No. He couldn't have. There was no reason to, not when I agreed to his stupid little threat."
"Something tells me it was more than a threat, cher." She reached for my hand and turned it palm up before slapping the phone into it. "Now text him back."
My fingers curled around the phone as indecision warred inside me. I wanted to. I wanted to do more than text Nathan—I wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice in my ear. Feel his arms close around me. But how could I do any of those things with my father's threat hanging over my head? And how could I bear to hear the anger and loathing in Nathan's voice if Jacqui was right and my father had already carried out his threat?
How could I bear knowing that I was the one responsible for jeopardizing Nathan's career?
I blinked against the film of tears burning my eyes and looked at Jacqui. "I can't."
Instead of the sympathy I expected to see in her gaze, I was rewarded with a flash of impatient anger. "Yes, you can. It's time to stop acting like a put-upon diva and pull up your big girl panties."
Jacqui's words hit me with the force of a sharp slap and I took a quick step back as a wave of emotions washed over me, each vying for the top spot. Hurt. Surprise. Anger. Indignation. Betrayal.
Anger won out and I straightened my shoulders then stepped closer. "I am not a diva."
"Addy, you know I love you like a sister but even you have to admit you have your moments." Jacqui waved one hand in the air, a small smile playing on her mouth. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a diva. We all have an inner one and I'm a firm believer in owning it."
"I'm not—"
"Embrace it, cher. But you still need to pull up those big girl panties."
The anger vanished between one breath and the next, replaced by confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Jacqui's gaze softened as she watched me. Another smile teased the corners of her mouth and she reached out to push a strand of hair from my face before stepping back. "You finally stood up to your daddy, cher. You fought for something you wanted."
"But I didn't. I gave in, just like I always do."
"No, Addy. It's not giving in when you're bullied into making a choice because of a threat hanging over your head. You could have agreed then stayed home and kept living a lie but you didn't. You left. Now you just need to decide if you fight to move forward, or if you give in and go back."
"Is that what you did? Fight to move forward?"
Shadows passed through Jacqui's eyes and I saw regret and sorrow in their depths before her gaze slid from my mine. "Not right away, no. I gave in to the bullies and wasted too many years of my life living a lie. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."
I wanted to ask her what those mistakes were but the words died in my throat. It wasn't my business and if Jacqui wanted me to know, she'd tell me. I knew she had secrets, probably more secrets than even I could guess at, but they were hers to share or to keep, however she saw fit.
I stared down at my phone then looked back at Jacqui, not bothering to hide my misery. "What if my father follows through with his threat? What if Nathan's career is already ruined because of me? He'd hate me if he ever found out and I don't think I could bear that."
"I think he might already know, cher. And from the tone of those text messages, I'm guessing hate isn't anywhere close to what he's feeling."
"Not now, maybe. But later—"
"You need to at least answer him, Addy."
I nodded, a part of me knowing she was right. But another part—a much larger part—balked at the idea. What if I sent him a text and he didn't respond? What if I called and the only thing I heard in his voice was hatred or disdain?
Or worse yet, what if he was waiting for me to respond and simply gave up, thinking I was the one who didn't want to talk to him?