A ride to Los Angeles

Chapter 11

Tiphanny

Arthur finishes smoking and crushes the cigarette butt directly on the coffee table in front of him. Then he gets up and walks toward me with a wide grin on his face.
"Jessy, my girl!"

He immediately pulls me into a tight hug, his scent of smoke and whiskey flooding my nostrils.
"Hey... Dad..."

I respond timidly to his unexpected embrace. The first time I saw him, he gave me the impression of an extremely tough man. I wouldn’t be surprised if his overly friendly attitude is just a lie.
"What... what brings you to Los Angeles?" I ask.

He releases me from the hug, and his expression becomes much more serious.
"What do you mean, what brings me to Los Angeles? All the TV stations are talking about it!"

He starts pacing around the room, gesturing theatrically.
"Jessy, my only daughter, shot in the middle of a gala!"
"That’s true, but..."
"And the culprit hasn’t even been caught yet!" he interrupts me.
"It’s going to be okay, I’ve..."
"And I told your mother, I’ve told her over and over again, that this filthy world is not for you!"
"Alright, but what..."

I watch him as he heads toward Frederic, who stands still and upright like a soldier, a few steps away from me.
"And you, Griffith, you’re as much of an idiot as always!"
"Sir, please..."
"You can’t even take care of her properly! Why did you even take her if you can’t manage that? Just because she’s beautiful?"
"Mr. Arthur..."
"Listen, boy, maybe you got away with Melinda, but I’m not her!"

I stand and watch the conflict between the two without saying anything. In a way, I feel sorry for Frederic because he has to endure all of Arthur’s criticism. But on the other hand, I’m almost about to burst out laughing. Jessica’s father looks like a chihuahua. Even though he’s more than a head shorter than Frederic, it seems like he’s just a moment away from tearing his flesh off.

I didn’t expect a situation like this. From what I’d read, Jessica didn’t have a very good relationship with her parents, including her father, so I didn’t anticipate meeting him. But life can be so unpredictable. Or maybe I missed something... I don’t know, maybe they reconciled.

After finishing with Frederic, he turns to me, that silly grin back on his face.
"Jessy, sweetheart, you didn’t think I’d leave you alone after everything that happened, did you?"
"Thanks for the thought, Dad, but I don’t think you can really help me."

He comes closer to me, takes my head in his hands, and kisses me on the forehead.
"Don’t worry! I’m much more capable than that idiot husband of yours. I promise you, no one will touch you, and if they do, I’ll cut off their hands!"

I’d like to see him try that with someone.

Arthur’s attachment to his daughter strikes me as extremely strange. Even though Jessica is a grown woman, this man exudes an overly protective air.

Unlike my dad, who had no problem with me getting my license at 16 or being with Martin, even though he knew what kind of background Martin came from, this guy seems like he wants to keep his daughter in a protective bubble. Anyway, I’m already in a bubble of protection with all the bodyguards trailing me, so Arthur wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Or at least I hope so.

Okay, maybe the news of the assassination attempt scared him, and that’s why he’s acting this way. Who knows?

"And how long do you plan on staying in Los Angeles?" I ask.
"As long as it takes."
It’s clear—I’m not getting rid of this guy.
"Maybe you’re tired from the trip."
"I am, I really am! I’m going to go get settled in my room right now."

I watch as he climbs the stairs to the upper floor.
"Don’t you want me to help you find a room?"
"No, no, I can manage, sweetheart."

I watch him start opening every door, including the one to our bedroom, until he finally picks a room and goes in. Then I turn my attention to Frederic, who hasn’t moved from his spot. He looks into my eyes with an extremely serious expression before saying just as seriously:
"Get rid of him as soon as possible!"

After that, he climbs the stairs, and I watch him enter the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.