Cillian (The Kelly Brothers #2) - Megan Wade Page 0,25
together in a way that involves her staying out all night and coming home in clothes that weren’t hers?”
“I haven’t touched her.” I speak through clenched teeth. “You’re perverting what happened without getting any facts.”
“I’m perverting what happened? You’re the man coming to me, trying to tell me he either wants to, or has already fucked my eighteen-year-old daughter. So, forgive me for thinking you’re a cradle-robbing asshole.”
I pull my head back as if slapped. His words sting, and that’s because there’s weight to them. He’s boiled something really beautiful down to a most perverse version of the truth, and it’s an awful and confronting thing to hear.
“I was trying to do the right thing by coming here and speaking to you as a man, but now I know this was obviously a mistake,” I say, pushing to stand. “Just know this, George: I’m in love with your daughter, and I plan to marry her. There’s nothing wrong or perverted about it. It’s just pure and simple, two-people-falling-for-each-other kind of love.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes like he thinks I’m a joke. It pisses me off, but I’m not going to explode and let him win. “I’ve always known you as a reasonable person. And I’m sorry you don’t agree with this, but I’m not walking away from her.”
He sits back in his chair, his eyes darkening as he glares back at me. I get the feeling he thinks I’m worth less than the sludge they scrape out of the grease trap right now. “Then you’ll have an easy job of walking away from Hunt and Gather. I don’t have a position here for you anymore.”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that,” I say, nodding slowly. “But I understand. I’ll clear out my locker right away.”
“And make sure you hand your keys to Chef Gordon. I don’t want you thinking you’re welcome to come back here for any reason. You won’t be welcome anywhere I am. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you continue to see my daughter.”
“Well, I think that decision is up to her. You might be her father, but you don’t get to run her life forever. She’s old enough to choose.”
He grunts a response and looks away from me. The conversation is over, and I’m dismissed.
“Thanks for everything, George,” I say before I leave. I get no response this time.
With a heavy heart, I head into the back room, clearing out the locker I’ve used for the last six years working in this place. The majority of my hopes and dreams were born here, working in these kitchens, feeling like a part of an extended family. It feels really shitty getting cast out the first time I refuse to fall in line. I’d have hoped I meant more to this establishment than that. But I guess I was wrong.
I leave my keys on the shelf inside. I don’t have it in me to go into the kitchen and say one last goodbye. I’m barely holding onto my anger as it is. Explaining my sudden departure would just tip me over the edge. I need to get out of here and cool down, so I can figure out what the hell I'm going to do. It’s not like George is going to give me a reference after this. I’m fucked.
As I walk through the sunlit day, a plastic garbage bag over my shoulder containing the contents of my locker, I become more frustrated with every step. I can’t understand why a man can be so blinded to his daughter’s wants and needs that he’d actually try to stand between her and her happiness. If I was a criminal, I’d understand his issue. But I’m a chef, a man he’s known for six years, a man he has worked side-by-side with. He knows my character. He knows that family is the most important thing in my life—it’s one of the reasons we worked so well together, because we shared a similar philosophy in life.
I don’t know if it’s his rules against dating, or if it’s just the fact she’s his daughter, but that man was not willing to bend, so sure he knows what’s right that he is willing to risk alienating his daughter in the process. I hope it doesn’t come to that. That would be the true tragedy here.
The way I see it, George either learns to accept me, or he spends a lifetime hating me. I hope that