NATALIE PUT THE last of her dinner dishes into the dishwasher, and closed the door. She didn’t know why she’d bothered to fix anything. Her stomach was so knotted, she hadn’t been able to eat. And she doubted it was going to get any better. She’d tried to distract herself with work, but her mind kept blinking over to the coming confrontation with Anthony. Their date. He hadn’t said where they were going, or what this perfect place of his was, but she didn’t think she’d be able to swallow more than a cup of tea, or a glass of wine. Or maybe she’d just throw up in his face, and they’d call the whole thing off. The way she was feeling now, projectile vomiting was definitely a possibility.
She forced herself to climb the stairs to her bedroom. She had no intention of primping for the date, but she needed to get dressed. She walked into her bedroom and looked around aimlessly, then crossed to the bathroom, and stood staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked awful. Stress did that to a person. She hated the idea of spending even an hour with Anthony, but hated even more what he might do if she refused. He’d already hurt Cibor, and, by extension, Jaclyn. And what about her family? Anthony was just petty enough to take it out on them because she wouldn’t go out with him.
Which reminded her. She needed to call her parents, just to be safe. She picked up the phone and hit the appropriate speed dial, then listened to it ring. Part of her wanted to get their answering machine. It would be so much easier to leave a message. But another part wanted to hear their voices.
“Hey, baby girl.” Her father’s words rolled with a Cajun accent that was much deeper than hers, and the more time she spent with him, the stronger her own accent became.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“What’s wrong?”
She forced a laugh. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because I know my Natalie. Come on, talk to your daddy.”
She blew out a long breath. “I just wanted to warn you . . . about Anthony.”
“If that bloody bastard’s giving you any trouble, you just come on home. Don’t you worry about anything else.”
“It’s not that bad. Honestly. But you know how he likes to play games. Well, he’s playing one now. There’s this guy I’m dating—”
“Who?” her father demanded, forgetting all about Anthony.
“Now, Daddy. Don’t go getting all protective on me.”
“As if there’s any other way for me to be with my own baby girl.”
Natalie smiled, and it felt good. If there was one thing she was sure of, one thing that would never change, it was that her parents loved her.
“That means more than you know,” she murmured, then stiffened her resolve. “His name’s Christian . . . the guy I’m dating. And he reminds me of you.” She thought she might have heard a light sniff from her father’s side of the phone line. “Anyway, Anthony and Christian don’t get along, so Anthony’s pretending he and I are . . . involved, as a way to get back at Christian.”
“As if.”
Those two words issued in her father’s deep voice with its Cajun accent were so perfect that she laughed out loud.
“That’s what I said, too,” she told him. “But you know how Anthony gets. So if he calls you or anything, just ignore him. And, you know, you and Momma be careful.”
“That old bloodsucker doesn’t scare me. Don’t you worry about us. And if your new beau is worth your time, he’ll tell you the same thing.”
“You’re right about that,” she muttered, then said. “I’ve got to go, Daddy. I expect Christian any minute now.”
“You tell him what I said.”
“I will.”
“And you come visit us. Your momma misses you.”
Natalie smiled. Translation . . . her father missed her.
“I’ll come soon. Now I’ve got to go. Give my love to Momma.”
“I’ll do that. You take care, baby girl. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Daddy. Bye-bye.”
When she hung up, she felt both better and worse. Better because she always felt better after talking to her father. And worse, because talking to him made her so homesick.
Her phone beeped with a new voicemail. She’d ignored the incoming beep when she’d been talking to her father. And she ignored the voicemail, too. She’d left Christian a message earlier, but ignored all of his calls and messages since then. She wasn’t going to debate this on the phone. He was just going to have to wait until she could talk to him in person. Besides, she already knew what he’d say. He wouldn’t want her to go tonight, would insist he could handle Anthony. But he didn’t know Anthony like she did. She wasn’t going to risk Christian’s life just to avoid one crummy date.