The Language of Secrets Read Online Free

intensity of the look made Justin fumble his hold on his wineglass. Don laughed and said: “You’re a little jumpy, kid.”
    Then he got up and went to the alcove bar in the living room and cracked the seal on a bottle of expensive bourbon. His movements were aggressively proprietary: the deliberate opening of the sealed bottle, the careless tossing of ice cubes into a crystal tumbler, the overly generous pouring of the drink.
    All of it annoyed Justin, and he sensed that Don knew it and took pleasure in it.
    “Come outside, kid. Keep me company.” Don strolled out onto the patio without waiting for Justin to reply. Amy gave Justin a little shove as she and Linda began to gather up the dinner plates. “Go visit with Daddy. Please, sweetie. For me?”
    Justin shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not up to a one-on-one with your father tonight, Ames.”
    Amy’s wineglass was still on the table. She slid it toward Justin and whispered, “Just five minutes, please.” The glass was almost full. After Amy was gone, Justin drained it. Then he went outside and waited for his father-in-law’s opening gambit.
    Don was stretched out in one of the lounge chairs, sipping his drink. He was gazing at the night ocean, listening to the breakingwaves. After a few minutes, he said: “So this weird crap with your family, it’s quite a story. Amy tells me you found out both your parents are dead … that you went to see one of your sisters and she freaked out … and that when you were scoping out your parents’ graves, you came across one for yourself. She also mentioned you’ve been moody and fucking hard to live with.”
    “I don’t know what else I can tell you, Don. That’s pretty much it.” Justin’s reply had a quiet “Don’t fuck with me” quality to it.
    “Yeah? Well, maybe that’s it and maybe it isn’t. Smells to me like you’re trying to cover something up.”
    Justin moved across the patio and angrily planted himself in Don’s line of sight. “You’re way off base.”
    Don shifted his gaze so that he was again looking toward the sea. He continued as if Justin hadn’t spoken. “If you are covering something up, I don’t give a crap. I don’t give a crap about your family, your past, or anything you did before you married my daughter.” His eyes were expressionless. His voice was low. “All I’m saying is there’s no need for fairy tales and bullshit. Whatever the truth is, fine, so be it. End of story. You got a good life going for yourself, kid. Don’t fuck it up.”
    “Thanks for the input, Don.” Justin started back toward the house. He knew that if he didn’t get some distance between himself and this arrogant asshole, he was going to hit him—hard enough to split his face open.
    Don sat up and turned toward Justin. “Listen to me, kid,” he said. “I’m trying to help you out. What I’m saying is, you’re back in L.A. It isn’t London or anyplace like it. In this town, who you are is who you are at this moment. Nobody gives a fuck about what anybody did in their past. As long as you’re good-looking, or you make movies, or you can throw a basketball, or you have a talk show, or even if you’re nothing but an ugly prick who’s just plainfucking rich, this town’ll roll over for you faster than a fat whore taking a slide on ice.”
    Justin grabbed the empty bourbon glass from Don’s hand and motioned toward the house. “It’s cold. Let’s go in.”
    Again, Don went on as if Justin hadn’t spoken. “I bought you this place as a wedding present so that when you and my daughter moved back to California you’d be set up with the right address. You both got looks. You both got style. You both got me and my money behind you every step of the way. And in this town, pal, life doesn’t get any better than that.”
    Before Justin could speak, Don waved him off. “I know. You have a good job and you’re on it with everything you got. You’re a good provider. All I’m saying is … as