“You made it!” Hayden said in surprise when her father approached the corner table where she’d been waiting for the past fifteen minutes.
It was Thursday morning, nearly a week since she’d seen him at the charity gala, and while they’d arranged to meet for breakfast in the city, she hadn’t actually expected him to show. She’d assumed his assistant would call to cancel at the last minute, and the fact that he was fifteen minutes late had only strengthened that conviction.
And yet, here he was, clad in a tailored dark gray suit, his hair perfectly styled and his green eyes sparkling at the sight of her.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased as she rose from her chair to hug him hello.
Presley kissed the top of her head, then helped her back into her chair. The restaurant his assistant had chosen for them was obviously in high demand, because even at eight thirty in the morning, it was completely packed. Apparently, it opened at seven thirty every weekday morning to cater to the high-powered professionals before they started their super-busy, super-important days. People like her father.
“I am surprised,” she admitted. “I sort of thought you’d cancel again.”
Regret flickered through his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but their server hurried over, interrupting them. He ordered an espresso, then waited until she was gone before addressing Hayden.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. When I asked you to come home, I truly thought I’d have more time to spend with you. But the playoffs have been so much more intense this year. And now we’re in the second round, and the pressure is on.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew her dad had an important job, but it wasn’t like he was out there on the ice every couple nights, putting his body through hell to secure a win. He acted like he was the reason for the Warriors’ successes, which could be partially true, but each time he boasted about it, he neglected to acknowledge the players. For some reason, she found herself getting defensive on Brody’s behalf.
God. How was she this invested in a fling? It wasn’t supposed to be serious, damn it. It was supposed to be about sex. About playing out some fantasies. Getting each other off. Yet, she was constantly thinking about the guy. Wondering how he was. Worrying about him when he was on the ice. One of the Colorado players had left last night’s game and entered concussion protocol, which only highlighted how dangerous the sport could be.
“Sweetheart?”
She snapped out of her thoughts. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said, once the season ends, my time will be yours. You don’t need to return to Berkeley until August—what do you say we plan a holiday in Italy for July?”
Surprise flickered through her. “Really?”
“Yes. We haven’t taken a trip together since you were, what, eighteen?”
“Sixteen.”
“So we’re long overdue.” He tipped his head. “How do you feel about Rome? Maybe a week there, and then head to the Amalfi Coast for another week or two? My assistant could plan everything. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
A rush of emotion flooded her chest. As unhappy as she’d been since she’d returned to Chicago, she couldn’t deny that the offer touched something inside her. She was twenty-six years old, and suddenly she felt like a little kid.
“That sounds amazing,” she told him. “I’d love that.”
“Excellent. I’ll tell Elizabeth to start making travel plans.”
The server returned with his espresso and asked if they were ready to order, but Hayden had chugged two coffees already while waiting for her father and needed to hit the ladies’ room before she exploded.
“Order me anything with eggs and avocado,” she told her dad as she slid out of her seat.
She quickly used the restroom, returning to the table to find a fresh cup of coffee and a tall glass of water.
“I got you the avocado toast, over easy,” her dad said. “And I ordered us some water.”
“Thanks.”
While they waited for their breakfast, they chatted about the playoffs, and for once, she didn’t mind talking hockey. Spending time with Brody made it hard to keep hating on the game. Besides, the more she reflected about it, the more she realized hockey wasn’t really to blame for the distance between her and her father. It was just a sport. It was Presley’s obsession with it that she actually resented.
Although if she was to believe her stepmother, Presley Houston was obsessed with more than just hockey. The way Sheila had described him, he was a money-hungry philanderer who cared only about himself.
“Is there any update on the divorce?” she asked as she cut into the last piece of her toast.
Wrong question.
Her father instantly stiffened. “No. The lawyers are still hashing it out. But Diana says it shouldn’t drag on much longer.”
Hayden searched his face. “Are you okay?”
He waved off her concern with a forced chuckle. “I’m fine.”
She shrugged awkwardly. “You didn’t seem very fine the night at the Gallagher Club.”
Fuck, why had she brought that up? She’d seen him since that night and hadn’t raised the issue. Hadn’t wanted him to flip out on her again. But it was too late to take it back, and she didn’t miss the way her dad’s eyes clouded over.
Not with anger, though.
With remorse.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that night, but I’ve been swamped with work. It’s not an excuse. But I’m sorry I snapped at you that night. I didn’t mean to.”
She studied him intently, noting the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “All right, I’m going to ask this again. Are you okay? Like, truly okay?”
Presley picked up his water glass and took a deep swig, his long fingers tightening around the glass for a moment before he set it down.
“For the most part,” he finally said.
She eyed him in concern. “For the most part?”
“I mean, I can’t lie—the divorce has taken its toll. Not to mention the rumors plaguing the franchise.” Her father offered a reassuring smile, but the shadows in his eyes betrayed a deeper struggle. “But I’m handling it, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Despite his assurances, Hayden couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that there was more to the story. “Are you sure that’s all it is? Because you seemed really…” She took a deep breath, deciding to address the concern that had been gnawing at her. “You were really drunk that night, Dad. And that’s not like you. I’ve never seen you drink too much at those events.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “What exactly are you asking me? If I have a drinking problem? Because I can assure you, I do not. You’re right, though—I drank too much that night. It had been a particularly tough week with all the rumors swirling, and I let everything get to me.”
She nodded slowly. “I get it. It can’t be pleasant, all the stuff the media is saying about you and the Warriors.”
“It’s not. But like I said before, you don’t have to worry about me. The franchise and I are going to weather this storm.”
“I’m always going to worry about you. You know that.”
His features softened. “I know, sweetheart.” He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “And I appreciate it, I really do.”
They were interrupted by the server again, who came to drop off the check. As her father handed over his black Amex, a text lit up Hayden’s phone.
DARCY: I’m taking the day off. Want to do some shopping with me?
She sent a quick response while her dad spoke with the server, telling her friend she was actually in the city, not far from Darcy’s apartment.
DARCY: Oh nice! Stay put. I’ll come meet you there.
“Ready to go, sweetheart? I can get my driver to drop you back at the Ritz.”
“No need, but thank you. Darcy just texted. She’s coming to meet me. We’re going shopping.”
“All right, then.”
He didn’t give her a hug goodbye, but leaned in to squeeze her arm and plant a kiss on the top of her head.
After he was gone, she ordered yet another coffee, resigning herself to being wired for the rest of the day and not sleeping a wink later tonight. Darcy arrived at the restaurant shortly after, greeting Hayden with a grin as she slid into Presley’s vacant seat.
“Damn, you got here fast,” Hayden remarked.
“I was already dressed and ready to go when I texted you.” Darcy smoothed out her red hair and tossed it over her shoulder.
“Why’d you take the day off?”
“I got in super late last night.”
“Hot date?”
“Hot fuck.”
Hayden almost snorted out her coffee. “Sorry, my mistake.”
Her friend’s blue eyes danced impishly. “Apology accepted. And don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about him while I drag you into every dress boutique on this block. I’m seeing him again tonight.”
Hayden’s jaw dropped. “What? A repeat performance?”
“Yup.”
“He was that good in bed?”
“Yup.”
“Are you going to marry him?” Hayden asked hopefully.
“Nope.” Grinning again, Darcy pushed the chair and started to rise. “Come on, let’s go. I want to find a really slutty dress for tonight.” As she stood, she picked up the half-full water glass Hayden’s father had left behind. “I’m parched. Mind if I chug the rest of this water?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Darcy lifted the glass to her lips and took a deep swig.
A second later she started coughing wildly, eyes widening as she spit the water out, getting it all over her shirt.
“What the fuck!”
The outburst drew the attention of several other patrons, and Hayden quickly shot them an apologetic look.
“What’s wrong?” Hayden asked her friend.
Darcy grimaced, wiping her mouth. “That’s not water, babe. It’s vodka.”
Hayden stared at the glass in disbelief. “Seriously?”
She snatched the glass out of Darcy’s hand and took a tentative sip. Sure enough, the sharp taste of alcohol burned her tongue.
What the fuck was right.
Her father had been pretending to drink water when he was consuming pure vodka? At eight thirty in the morning?
And he was trying to tell her he didn’t have a problem?
“Darce,” she said, as a queasy sensation churned in her stomach.
“Yeah?”
“Do you mind if I bail on the dress shopping?” Hayden bit her lip. “I need to go and talk to my stepmother.”
