guess.
“It’s hardly a surprise, after the stress I’ve caused you.” Ah, so it was the Teddy bear. “My poor sweet baby, those awful headaches. They began when she was just a tween,” he explained to Darius. “Puberty, no doubt. I used to drape blankets over the windows to block out every speck of light. I’d bring her cool washcloths and speak in the softest whisper, like the ghost of Florence Nightingale.”
“That’s perfect, Frank. Just perfect. You’re using my migraines to talk about yourself and your parenting.”
He blinked at her as a tough-looking man in a bellhop uniform, with actual epaulets and gold braids, appeared with a tray of glasses. “Lemonade? Hydration sometimes helped.”
“No. Thank you,” she added to the servant, who left immediately. “Why do you make him wear that uniform?”
“It was all they had left at the costume shop,” he said in a reasonable tone—as if that explanation made any sense.
“Why is he wearing any uniform? You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter. Why did you want to see me?”
“Sweetcakes, as if I need a reason beyond saying thank you? Yet again?” He turned to Darius. He always had a knack for including everyone in a conversation. “I’d be in prison now if not for my brilliant daughter.”
“Well, you’re welcome, Frank,” she told her father to draw his attention back to her. “I’m glad to see that you’re looking so well.”
He beamed at her.
“If that’s it, we should probably get—”
“There is a tiny matter that has come up.” He held up two fingers indicating how extremely small it was. “A dispute that could use your talents.”
“No,” she said flatly. “I’m not a lawyer anymore.”
“Of course you are. You didn’t do all that hard work just to walk away. That’s not my Katiebird.”
Her head throbbed with a flashback of migraine pain. “I’m no longer practicing, Frank. I’m a peony farmer. And a landlady. Not a lawyer. Even if I was, I told you at the beginning it was a one-time thing.”
“Do you see how ice cold she is to her dear old dad?” So breezy and witty, her father. So uncaring about any needs but his own. “Can’t you talk to her, big fellow? Such iciness from one’s own flesh and blood. It’s practically inhuman. But then, she’s always been so hardhearted—and hardheaded. You must know that by now.”
Kate felt heat slowly rise in her face. Just when she thought she was safe, her father twisted the knife right where he knew it would hurt. Hardhearted…did that word really describe her? Was that why she’d never let herself fall in love with anyone?
“I’m not—” she began, but Darius stopped her with one motion of his hand.
“I think he asked me a question.”
Her father beamed at him as if they were already best friends. “That I did. Perhaps you’re a father yourself, and you understand the pain of—”
“I’m not a father. Haven’t been that lucky. But if I were, I’d be pretty freaking proud if she was anything like Kate. Kate’s not icy, she’s not hardhearted. She didn’t have to come here, and if she takes my advice, she won’t do it again until you get your head out of your ass. But since she is a little hardheaded, she’ll do what she chooses. And I’m behind her a hundred percent.”
Kate felt his hand under her elbow and realized he was nudging her toward the door. Her father’s jaw was agape; she’d never seen him stunned into silence before.
That was the thing about Darius. He didn’t talk a lot, but when he did, people paid attention. Even Frank Robinson.
“Bye Frank,” she told her father. “I’ll be in touch.”
Her father dragged his fascinated gaze away from Darius long enough to blow her a kiss. “I like him,” he called after them. “You have my approval. Always thought you needed a man who could stand up to you. Don’t let this one slip away like the others.”
One last jab for the road, apparently.
Kate slammed the door behind her on the way out. Her face still felt hot and her fists kept clenching the way they used to do when she had tantrums as a kid. Familiar fury coursed through her system in a hot river of emotion. Frank always did this to her. He always turned her into a blubbery mess. No emancipation, no law degree, nothing had changed that. She should never have come here. She should know better by now.
“I’ll call a Lyft,” Darius said.
“No. I need to walk for