“It is if it’s going to affect my friend’s chances of winning.”
“Your friend hired me. He obviously believes I’m talented enough.”
“The only reason you’re on his arm is because he’s paying me back for fucking his date.”
His sentence shouldn’t feel like five buckets of ice-cold water to my face, but it does. The image of him and some socialite going at it accosts my brain. Both heat and fury swirl around inside, a toxic combination that not only makes no sense but that I don’t have any right to feel.
I stop dancing and stare up into his flat and indifferent eyes. “Why would enlisting me to help him be payback at you?”
He stares down at me with barely contained fury on his face. Eventually he moves us around the dance floor again.
“You’re not exactly the ideal person to work on this campaign. Or did you forget the reason you left here so quickly a decade ago?”
My nose tickles and tears brim in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Part of being here is to confront my past and not let it rule my every action and emotion anymore.
“I’m well aware of why I left, and I certainly don’t need you to remind me. It’s something I’ve had to confront, even if only on the inside, every day since then. But I am not my past, nor am I whatever some arrogant, rich asshole thinks I am.” I stop dancing and step out of his hold. “Now if you’ll excuse me, as lovely as this reunion has been, it’s over.”
I spin on my heel and walk away with a relaxed stride, my head held high, my back straight as if he didn’t just cut me open and spill my insides out all over the dance floor.
What the hell happened to him since high school?
One thing is for sure, I’ll be keeping my distance from Garrin Stone while I’m here.
5
Chapter Five
Isla
I knock softly on the large wooden door and fall back down on my heels. I don’t want to wake my dad if he’s resting. After a few seconds, my dad’s scratchy voice says to come in, and I push open the door with equal parts hesitation and eagerness.
I want to see my father—it’s the reason I came back—but I don’t like what I see when I go into the room. He’s sitting up in bed, the large TV on the other side of the room tuned to the business channel with the volume turned down low. The scene at first glance seems normal. But upon closer investigation, I can see the sallow color to his normally olive skin, the way his brown eyes that match my own appear duller, and the sagging skin on his face and arms from all the weight he’s lost.
“Hola, Papi.” I smile and walk across the silk Isfahan rug at his side of the bed. I saw my mother earlier in the dining room when breakfast was served and know that she’s off to a charity event this morning, so I want to keep him company until her return. Ford said it would be okay if I met him and the rest of the team at the office around lunch.
“Princesa, come in.” He smiles up at me and I’m thankful that despite all that he’s going through and the damage the treatments are doing to his body, his smile has remained intact.
When I reach his bedside, I lean in and kiss his cheek. “How are you feeling today?”
“Never better.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed.
I raise a brow and give him a look that lets him know I don’t believe a thing he says. Then I crawl up beside him and lean against the headboard.
“How was the party last night?”
My thoughts instantly go to Garrin and I inwardly curse.
I hadn’t had some romantic notion of seeing him again. I thought it would be nice to catch up with one of the only people who seemed to understand me in high school. The guy who filled my stomach with butterflies right before fourth-period science class. He’s not the Classhole I thought would make me regret my coming back. Asher was the one I’d figured would make some crude comment. Apparently, I don’t know either of them well.
“Ford seems to have a lot of support behind him, and we were able to secure a few large donors for the campaign. Not that he needs the money, but you know how it is around here. Money talks, and when people hand it over, it says something about their confidence in you.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s true, princesa.” When he moves his hand over to pat my knee, the tendons on his hand push up from under his skin and his knuckles appear swollen, as if arthritis has them in their grip. The skin itself is marked with age spots, the normally olive skin darker in some places than others.
I blink a couple of times before I look away.
“How are you really doing, Papi?” I force the tears to stay put when I cover his hand on my knee with my own and look over at him.
“You worry too much.”
“You’re sick. Of course, I worry.”
“I should be the one to worry. Your mother tells me that you still haven’t found a nice man to share your life with.”
I barely suppress the urge to roll my eyes. My parents were lucky to have found each other when they were freshmen in high school and can’t fathom that a twenty-seven-year-old like myself isn’t making it her life’s mission to settle down.
“I’ve been kind of busy with law school.”
My dad guffaws. “An excuse.”
“Not an excuse.”
“I haven’t even heard one peep about you seeing anyone the entire time you’ve been gone.”
He’s not wrong. Ever since the sex tape incident I’ve had a hard time trusting men. Sure, I’ve gone out on dates over the years, but the men I’ve allowed myself to go to bed with have been virtually nonexistent.
Let’s just say that men aren’t big fans of women who don’t make them feel like a hero in the sack. Things always eventually broke down not long after.
I squeeze my dad’s hand lightly. “I haven’t met the right person yet, that’s all.”
He flips his hand over underneath mine and links our fingers together. “You deserve the best. Don’t settle like your mother did.”
I laugh and lean into him, letting my cheek rest against his shoulder.
“So, what’s going on in the stock market today?” I ask, changing the subject to one where we can pretend it’s just another day and he isn’t lying frail in his bed.
My dad launches into his analysis of what looks promising and what people should be dumping from their portfolios while I listen and feign interest. The stock market, though it has made my family very wealthy, has always been like a member of the family. Usually it’s either on or discussed at dinner every night. It’s not my thing, but I’m happy to listen if it makes my dad feel like this is any other day in his life.
I’m so angry at myself for missing these moments because I was too scared to confront my past. My dad has always been the most important man in my life. He wasn’t like my friends’ fathers growing up. Their dads were always off traveling for business or had their staff do most of the child rearing. But my dad was always engaged with me as a child, and I always knew he had my back. When I was small, he was the one who used to read me a bedtime story. I’ve always been aware of how lucky I was to have him as a father.