Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Internally, I cringed, hearing the exaggerated jovial ramble of questions, wishing I would’ve toned it back to a realistic pitch.
My dad’s eyes narrowed with doubt, seeing right through me.
He knew me better than anyone. After picking up where my mom left off and encouraging me to never feel ashamed of my passionate personality or heritage, he saw every part of me. While I continued to hide what others called spicy, his acceptance led me to never feeling like I needed to hold back with him. Unfortunately, that sometimes meant that he got waves of unfiltered emotions. Most of the time, it meant me being open and honest and unable to hide part of myself—including when I was lying.
“My trip was fantastic,” he surprisingly answered.
Wings of hope fluttered in my chest. Maybe he’d let it go. Maybe—
“However,” he said, squashing my optimism like a bug. “I ended up missing a dinner with a world-renowned golfer when I left a day early because I hadn’t heard from you after an entire week.”
“Oh?”
“Mhmm.”
I blinked, hoping his freakishly blank face would shift to any emotion at all. Even anger was preferable to nothing. But until I could get a read on his emotions, I continued with innocent joy…just a little less manic.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said with a laugh. “God, I’ve been so busy that I barely had time to look at my phone. I even took a box of contracts home to work through the weekend. I barely left my apartment.”
His head tipped to the side. “Really?”
Warning bells chimed, but I continued, my smile barely hanging on. “Well, figuratively. It was like a box of paperwork on my laptop since we’re mostly digital. But, yeah. I kept busy all weekend, working on the couch and watching Friends reruns. Which quickly turned to Charmed reruns. You know how much I love them both.”
“Surely, you at least stopped to go out for food.”
“Nope. I took you up on your offer to have Dolores cook me some meals to reheat,” I explained, using at least one truth. “Otherwise, I ordered in.”
My dad nodded and hummed, his face still lacking hints of anger, but also missing his usual easy smile.
His non reaction reminded me of the few times I had tried to lie. He hadn’t lashed out in anger then, either. Instead, opting to let me dig myself into a hole until I had no option but to tell the truth.
But this was different, because there was no way that my dad knew anything about mine and Lucian’s agreement. I wasn’t technically lying because he didn’t know what to ask to lead me to lie. I could call it a lie of omission, but I stubbornly refused to.
No matter how I tried to process his actions, I couldn’t make it make sense and finally, curiosity urged me past the clanging alarms of danger. “Why?”
He huffed a laugh as his eyes slid closed and his lips barely curved into a smile that looked more like a wince. When he directed his gaze at me again, it wasn’t blank. It was angry.
Oh, shit.
“Because when I stopped by your apartment yesterday, no one was there.”
Oh, shitohshitohshit. Oh, shit.
He huffed another laugh. “In fact, when I asked the doorman when you might be back, he informed me that I just missed you and didn’t anticipate you coming back since you moved out.”
Blaring sirens mixed with the clanging crash of all my effort to avoid telling him I was engaged to Lucian falling around me in a chaotic mess of my own making.
Of all the ways I imagined telling my father about Lucian, not a single one came close to this.
And not a single one included him speaking the last words I ever thought to hear. Words that would make every sacrifice and moment leading to this one pointless.
“This kind of response…” He shook his head, and the blank expression fell from his face, leaving behind deeply pinched brows and a heavy frown. “It’s like a child lashing out because they didn’t get their way. It makes me wonder if you’re anywhere near being the CEO this company needs. It makes me wonder if you ever will be.”
“Of course I will be. I am ready,” I corrected quickly with fervor. “This…this whole thing is a misunderstanding. It’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it, Aspen? Please explain it to me so I can understand what the hell is going on.” His tone pleaded with me while still holding the edge of frustration. Enough frustration to apparently remove me from owning Quinn Music Group all together.
The realization landed with a blow that threatened to knock me to my knees. The realization that I needed to fix this hit me harder than Lucian’s threat last night.
But how?
How did I explain without making the situation worse?