The Old Deep and Dark Read Free Page B

again as she looked back at the house.
    When he turned, he saw a dark figure in one of the second-story windows. “Is that Dad?”
    â€œWe’re being observed,” she said, continuing to ball up pages and slam them into the flames.
    â€œWhy are you doing that?”
    â€œHaven’t you read it? His novel?”
    â€œOh, that. Actually, no. It was waiting for me when I got back from Atlanta. I tossed it in my duffel before I left the apartment. Figured I’d read it while I was here.”
    â€œI suggest you read it fast. It’s the whole point of this family meeting. I can’t believe our parents are such utter douchebag liars. God but I hate them.”
    He sat down on the bench, drank what remained of the wine in her glass, then refilled it. “Lies about what?”
    â€œThat manuscript is the end of the world. My world.”
    This was a little much, even for her.
    She began to toss clumps of pages into the fire, as if she couldn’t burn them fast enough. She bit down so hard on her lower lip that it began to bleed.
    â€œCould you focus for a second? Give me a few specifics?”
    â€œWhat I want appears to be of no concern to anybody but me.”
    â€œYou’ll need to speak less cryptically if you expect me to sympathize.”
    â€œOh, you’ll sympathize all right. This will affect you as much as it does me. Read the goddamn manuscript. Then we’ll talk.”
    He wanted to press her to explain, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. Behind Chloe’s sweet face was the most fiercely stubborn human being he’d ever known. Deciding to take another tack, he asked, “Who else is here?”
    â€œTommy.”
    Tommy Prior was their father’s manager. He’d started out as a lawyer with a special interest in finance, intellectual property, and entertainment law before branching out and taking Jordan on as a client. He’d become a close friend, almost a member of the family. Booker had many fond memories of the time he’d spent with Tommy as a kid. He’d been a surrogate parent of sorts.
    Thomas Cole Prior was a quiet, smart, good-natured man. Sadly, in the last few years, he appeared to have lost his energy for managing the career of a highly acclaimed country music singer. Booker saw Tommy as the kind of guy who would much rather spend his time camping in the woods, where he could do what he loved—hiking, swimming, hunting and fishing—than spend his days in a corporate boardroom. Unlike his parents, Tommy was self-reflective, possibly too much so. His growing addiction to alcohol was hard to watch. He’d used martinis for years to loosen himself up at parties. It seemed to help, though in the end, it was a solution with disastrous consequences.
    From what Booker had been able to piece together, Tommy had made a serious business error that had ended up costing his dad a bunch of money. The fact that he was still employed, that they were still friends, highlighted another one of his father’s good points. Jordan Deere was loyal to the people he cared about. Perhaps, it might be suggested, loyal to a fault.
    â€œHave you spent any time talking to Tommy?” asked Booker, curious to know how he was doing. His drinking could add another element of rollicking good fun to the weekend.
    Chloe stood for a moment staring intently into the fire, then shook herself and pulled out of her trance. “A little.”
    â€œHe still on the sauce?”
    â€œNot while I was making him breakfast. But, yeah, I think he’s still drinking. He seems depressed. He sat there at the island this morning and tasted the omelet. Said it was wonderful. But then he never took another bite. He eventually drifted off with a cup of coffee heading toward the bar in the family room. I’d say his trip to rehab last winter didn’t take.”
    â€œIt’s a hard demon to fight,” said Booker, taking another few sips of his