The news hit the town and it was said Samuel had enemies due to illegal dealings. Samuel and my father were business rivals—both real estate developers competing to own the city—but I also remember them getting along. A few times when Isaac was away at college, his parents came over for dinner. His mom was sweet and would bring me gifts. When they died, my parents attended the funeral.
Of course the man I ended up on a fake date with is one of the wealthiest, most notorious men in Chester Creek, and where does he take me? To a charity function at the country club my parents belonged to. I practically grew up there, playing at the pool with my friends during summer, attending tennis and golf lessons. We’d have brunch there every Sunday after church, until my mom passed away—then the church and brunch stopped.
This city is too damn small, and it’s why I need to get out of here somehow. I’ll never be able to have a fresh start as long as I’m stuck here. But how can I leave, knowing my dad is here and can’t go anywhere?
I push the thought aside as I secure my items into a locker and then sign in with the front lobby officer. Once I fill out the notification to visit form, I step to the side to wait for a visiting room to become available. It’s Saturday morning, so there are several people waiting, some complaining about how busy it is, but I’m used to the process since I’ve been coming here every Saturday for the last four months—after waiting five weeks to be approved.
I wait patiently for my name to be called, and once it is, I step through the metal detector and follow the officer to the videoed visiting room.
The moment I see my father, he stands and envelops me in a strong hug. “There’s my girl,” he mutters into my hair, every word filled with emotion. The hug ends too soon and we take a seat across from each other at the table.
“You look good.” He reaches across the table and pats my hand. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. You?”
His eyes scrutinize me, knowing I’m lying, and he sighs in sadness. “Camilla, please don’t lie to me. It’s bad enough I only get to see you once a week for an hour. I can’t stand the thought of not knowing what’s going on with you.”
I bite my tongue, not wanting to bring up the irony in his words. It goes both ways, Dad. He wants me to talk to him, yet on several occasions he hid shit from me. Important shit. Starting with my mom being sick. I only knew she was dying when she was literally on her death bed. And then, instead of telling me he was being investigated for tax evasion and money laundering, he chose to hide it from me. I didn’t know my dad was in trouble until I had reporters banging on my door wanting a statement.
“I’m okay,” I repeat, this time making it a point to perk up. He doesn’t need to know my rent is way overdue and if I don’t figure something out, I’m going to be thrown out on my ass. When I woke up, I expected Yasmin to tell me I screwed her over and she was fired, but instead, I was shocked to find an email notifying me that Yasmin had sent me a thousand dollars—which helps, but isn’t enough to cover all that I owe.
“Cam, please,” Dad insists. He’s stubborn and won’t stop asking until I give him something.
“I’ve been thinking about going back to school,” I lie. “It’s too late to apply for a loan, so I was wondering if maybe you have any money stashed away.” It’s doubtful he does, but anything would help, and I can always pay him back.
The second a frown tugs on his lips, I regret bringing up the subject of money. Since the day he was sentenced to fifteen years in a federal prison, along with losing every asset he owned, money has been a tough subject for him. It nearly killed him when we had to use my trust to pay for his legal representation—who in the end didn’t do shit and is partly the reason why he’s sitting in prison. I can’t prove it, but I would bet my life he was paid off to throw my dad’s case.
“I wish I did, sweetheart, but they took every last cent. If I had anything, I would give it to you.”
I know he would and I hate that now he’s going to be stressed out over knowing he couldn’t give me what I need.
“It’s all good.” I plaster a smile on my face. “I can take out a loan next semester. It’s no big deal.”