I took a sip of the whiskey. “The show made it look like I had an affair with a married man while we were filming. I didn’t, and I don’t think Jameson believes me. He asked me last night and I just… how could he think that about me?”
“You’ve told him you didn’t?” he asked. “Before last night, I mean.”
“I didn’t think I had to. I thought he knew.”
“You thought…” He sighed. “A man doesn’t know what he doesn’t know. And he sure as hell doesn’t know what a woman is thinking. I fell into that trap with your mama.”
“It’s not that I expected Jameson to read my mind. But I thought he knew me better than that.”
“There’s always things to learn about someone,” he said. “Good or bad. And making assumptions isn’t a good idea, even with someone you know inside and out.”
“Daddy, are you trying to tell me you think this is my fault?”
He smiled, a warm, gentle smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, sweetheart. And if I thought Jameson had mistreated you, I’d be of a different mind. So you tell me if I’m wrong, and that boy needs a whoopin’. I’ll visit some Bootleg justice on him right quick.”
“No, he didn’t mistreat me.”
“All I’m saying is that I understand him a bit,” he said. “I’ve seen the two of you together, and I know how he looks at you. If he picked a fight with you last night, it’s because he’s hurtin’ inside. Not because he doesn’t love you.”
“I think he left for Charlotte without me,” I said. “He told me he was going alone, and I haven’t heard from him this morning.”
“Stubbornness is a virtue among us Bootleggers,” he said. “Sweetheart, do you know why Betsy and I fell in love?”
Confused by the sudden change of topic, I stared at my dad for a few seconds. “Um… I guess because you spent a lot of time together and realized you cared for each other?”
“That’s part of it,” he said. “But there’s more. Betsy saw me at my worst. Now, that’s because I was sick, not because I was angry and blew up at her. But I knew there was something special about her when it hit me that she was seeing me at my worst, and she wasn’t walking away from that. Because honey, when you find someone who can see the ugly parts of you—because lord knows we all have them—and love you anyway, that’s a rare thing. So I suppose my question to you is this: Does seeing a bit of Jameson’s ugly side make you want to walk away? If that’s a deal breaker for you, that’s quite all right. Nothing wrong with it. Maybe he’s not the man for you, and fightin’ with him last night made you see it clearly.”
“No,” I said, surprising myself with my vehemence. “No, that’s not how I feel at all.”
He nodded slowly and took another sip. “And perhaps Jameson saw a bit of your not-so-good side, too. I don’t know, that’s just a guess. Maybe he saw it last night. Or maybe he saw it before, and he’s not sure what to do with it. It’s disconcerting when it happens. But the real test is in what two people decide to do about it.”
I settled deeper into the couch. Was my dad right? Had Jameson blown up at me like that because he thought I was safe? Far from making me feel better, that thought made me feel worse. Anger was a heady emotion, easy to hold onto and still be certain you were in the right. Letting go of it meant hurt was creeping in to take its place. Hurt and sadness.
It had hurt when Jameson had asked me about Brock. But my dad might have had a small point. I’d never specifically told Jameson that I hadn’t slept with Brock. We just hadn’t talked about it. It had been easier not to—easier to ignore the outside world and live in our little bubble. It wasn’t so easy now that our bubble had burst.
My heart sank as I realized something else. Not only had I never been clear with Jameson about Brock, I’d never denied it publicly, either. It had felt like I didn’t have a choice. What had Evelyn said? My life savings wasn’t worth my pride, and if the studio went after me, I’d lose everything.