Moving as if through mud, Oliver picked up the phone and put it to his ear. He stared at his father, unwilling to begin the conversation.
“You look good,” his father said, as if this was a normal conversation in a normal place on a normal day.
“So do you,” Oliver retorted, his tone dripping with sardonic irony. “But then you’ve been on a tropical island these fifteen years, living the good life while the rest of us have been dealing with the aftermath of your mess.”
“Your mother came by to visit,” Vernon said, acting like he didn’t hear his son’s accusation or the venom in Oliver’s tone. “Eve tells me you’re a photographer. You always did like to mess around with that sort of stuff instead of focusing on important things.”
Oliver hadn’t come here to exchange fruitless barbs with this man. He’d come here for answers, and he intended to get some. But first he wanted to let Vernon know that he shouldn’t expect they’d welcome his return with open arms.
“Do you know what disappearing with all that money did to your wife? Your family? Do you even care how much damage you’ve done?”
“I earned that money,” Vernon asserted, his forehead puckering. “That was all money that I made because of what I could do.”
Oliver gaped while his father rationalized the theft of millions of dollars, not just from clients who’d trusted him, but from his close friends. What kind of madness had possessed him to think that Vernon would take responsibility for all the harm he’d done? Putting aside his father’s pathetic attempt to justify the theft, Oliver tried again.
“Why didn’t you let any of us know that you were still alive?”
“I did.” Vernon smirked. “I sent you a fishing rod. Didn’t you get it?”
“I got it. Years too late.” As Oliver spoke, he waited for the hot rage that always blindsided him, but all he felt was cool disdain. “What I don’t understand is why you sent it.”
Even as he asked, Oliver wondered why he was even bothering. Nothing Vernon said could fix what was wrong with Oliver. What the hell was he hoping to achieve with this visit? Even if Vernon made an effort, something the selfish bastard would never do, nothing his father could say would make up for the harm he’d caused a decade and a half earlier or his neglect during the years before that. For too long, Oliver had been waiting for something that Vernon couldn’t possibly give him: peace.
How had he been so foolish to look for that outside himself? To give that much power to his father after everything that Vernon had done?
And then all the bad memories and debilitating doubts vanished in a flash of insight. Brightness exploded inside him, banishing the dark, bathing him in blessed relief.
He didn’t need Vernon’s answers. Didn’t need his approval or his love. The only people Oliver needed for true happiness were Sammi and their baby. With her he could make a fresh start. Because of her he could release his anger and embrace a future where he reconnected with his brothers and his mom.
Almost giddy with relief, he hung up the phone and stood. If Vernon was surprised at his son’s actions, Oliver never knew, because he didn’t even glance at his father before turning and walking toward the exit.
A sense of lightness and calm filled him so he felt as if he were walking on a trampoline rather than the hard tile floor of the prison corridor. With each step he shed more and more of the weight that had hampered his spirit all these years. Reaching the outside, he lifted his face to the overcast sky and laughed as snow fell gently onto his skin. Overwhelmed by the sudden and intense need to see Sammi and tell her of today’s insights, Oliver jogged toward the street.
“Congratulations!” Sammi lifted her sparkling water and clinked glasses with her mother. “The Paulson Agency is lucky to have you.”
Sammi pondered the ripple effect of her collision with Oliver two months earlier. Not only had changes come to her and Oliver, but to her mother and Ty, as well. Would the ripple spread to Oliver’s family next? If so, would it improve or further damage those relationships?
“I didn’t realize how much I missed those days with you, taking you to photo shoots and go-sees, until I walked into Paulson.”
Celeste’s wistful smile transported Sammi back in time to those magical days when she and her mother rambled all over New York City. In those days she’d never glimpsed the stress her mother must’ve been under. Now she wondered if that had been because Celeste had enjoyed the long hours of travel, auditions, hair and makeup sessions, and photo shoots. In the days before Sammi booked her first major runway, it had been the two of them against the world. Once Sammi’s career had taken off, her mother had been relegated to a lesser role.
“I’m sorry,” Sammi said, her throat tight with regret.
Celeste looked surprised by the suddenly somber turn the conversation had taken. “Sorry for what?”
“I haven’t said thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Her mother blinked. “You don’t need to thank me. It’s a mother’s job to take care of her child.” Her genuine smile made Sammi’s eyes water. “Even when her daughter doesn’t need her anymore.”
“I’ll never not need you,” Sammi said, her hand drifting over her abdomen. “Especially now. I need you more than ever.”
“That’s a relief,” Celeste said. “After how things have been between us these last few weeks, I thought for sure you would cut me out of your life—”
Sammi interrupted. “You told me to terminate my pregnancy.”
“That was the absolute wrong thing to say. I was thinking of your career, and mine, instead of considering how
