one that made sense.
“Hey, baby girl.” My dad pulled me into his embrace while my mom took one look at me and handed me the glass from her hand. It was champagne. Because that was all she drank. Champagne. We had wineries everywhere, but she said champagne had always made her feel more mysterious. She was quirky and adorable, and the minute my dad had set his eyes on her he’d known they were meant to be. Maybe that’s why I jumped head over heels for Slade. I thought it was possible for me too.
My first mom died when I was a baby, but Lilah had been my mom since I was a year old, the only mom I really remembered.
I kissed her on the cheek and downed her glass.
Her eyebrows shot up. “That bad?”
“Worse. Actually.” I sighed and held my glass out.
She poured. “I hope you have a driver.”
“I’ll steal one of Dad’s.” I winked at my father, who was already digging into the calamari and piling it onto my plate.
We’d always had money.
But love was held to the highest standard, that and respect; money was there to change others.
Not us.
I smiled as my dad reached for my mom’s hand and kissed it, all the while using his free hand to shove a plate of food in my face.
I gave him a look, then dove in.
“So, how’s the job?” Dad asked in the casual tone that meant in about five minutes he was going to ask me to come back to work.
His bluish-silver eyes twinkled as he adjusted his bow tie then ran a massive hand through his dyed dark-brown hair.
With a sigh I leaned back in my chair. “It’s work.”
“A job should never be work,” he countered.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Trust me, with the way things are going, I’ll probably be begging to get back on the payroll.”
“We paid you?” he asked.
“Very funny. Actually, I think I need a raise.”
He ignored me and poured a glass of Cab Franc. My eyes watered a bit as he held the glass to me and then swirled the liquid. “Look at the legs on this one.”
“You say that to all the pretty reds.” I winked and took the stem with two fingers, then held it to my nose, inhaling deeply. “Mmmm, raspberries? A hint of . . . is that chocolate?”
He shrugged.
“Jalapeño?”
“This woman”—he jutted his finger at me while talking to Mom—“has the best nose and palate in the world.”
I beamed at the compliment, because for the past few days I’d been beaten down by the one and only man to ever fully see me naked and give me an orgasm.
“Baby girl?” Dad leaned in. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I choked out the word with every ounce of mental strength I had. “Just tired.” I let the wine sit on my tongue as I savored the flavor. When I set my glass down, both Mom and Dad were waiting impatiently for my response.
“Full bodied, with a hint of tart, it would pair extremely well with a good Dubliner cheese or a sirloin.”
“That’s my girl.” Dad clapped slowly and then poured a round for the entire table. “I love you.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
And all was right in the world again.
Chapter Eighteen
MACKENZIE
As promised, I let one of Dad’s drivers take me back to my apartment, and because I was a little buzzed and a lot emotional, I dug into my purse and pulled out two of the magazines, sat down on my couch, and started to read.
I read about his fiancée getting pregnant.
A light bulb went on when I realized he’d been flying to Puerto Vallarta a few weeks later.
Huh, so both of us were escaping our current situations.
Is that why he gave another name?
I did the same.
Were we both that mistrusting?
Or just in that much need to be different people?
I kept reading.
The details all seemed the same until I got to the part about his father’s fatal heart attack and the mental toll it had taken on him. Drugs? Really? Rehab? Angry outbursts? I frowned.
Loss did bad things to good people.
I traced a finger over his beautiful smile. He was at the World Cup, hugging his dad while his dad wiped away a tear.
I knew that feeling.
Accomplishing something great and having your parents be proud of you. I’d had a crap day, and just being with my dad made the day end on a happy note.
As my eyes started to get heavy, I lay down on the couch