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“A vacation will be good for you,” Dan says as if it's the most natural thing in the world for me to invite his daughter along. “Hey, I’ve got a great idea.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Fuck the camper. I'll come along to your thing.”
My heart pounds. “You’ll what?” I ask, sure I heard wrong.
“It’s a great idea,” he enthuses. “You said so yourself that Anna isn’t the camping type, so this will be perfect. It’s a great chance for me to reconnect with her. You and I get to catch up, your kids get a break. Everyone wins. It’s great, huh?”
“I, uh, sure, it sounds great,” I mumble. I rub my head, suddenly feeling sick.
“Fantastic.” He rubs his hands together enthusiastically. “Let me know when it’s all booked. If you want me to do anything, let me know.”
He stands up and walks out, lifting his arm to hit the top of the doorframe along the way. I follow him, not saying anything because I’m still in shock. My heart is racing out of control, and I feel sick like I’m about to hurl.
“Later,” Dan says, throwing me a wave as he walks outside. I half-heartedly wave back, then go back to panic mode. I have no idea how I let this happen.
The worst part was I have to tell Anna, and I had no idea how I was going to do that. I feel sick just thinking about it. Picking up my phone, I stare at it for a second, then put it back down. I can’t tell her this over the phone.
This is something I have to do in person. I'd gone from planning the perfect little getaway with my kids and my new girlfriend to inviting her father along.
This isn't going to end well.Chapter Eleven
AnnaI sit down at the table, helping myself to some of the toast that has been conveniently left unattended. Dad walks in and scowls at me.
“Help yourself,” he smirks. “I’ve only been lazing over a hot toaster all morning to cook that.” I roll my eyes at his lame dad joke.
“I'm surprised you even know where the toaster is kept,” I tease, raising my eyebrows.
He winces. “I guess I deserved that, but that's all about to change.” His excited expression is making me nervous because it’s usually bad news for me. Flashbacks of the weekend camping trip when I was twelve floats into my mind. All I wanted was to go to my best friend’s birthday party, but Dad insisted we needed to bond. We bonded ourselves all the way into hospital with hypothermia when he got us lost in the middle of a snowstorm.
God, I hate camping almost as much as I hate boats.
I frown at him as he sits down at the table, resting his palms flat against the table.
“Father,” I begin, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “What have you done?”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says, waving my concerns off. “We’re going away. It’ll be great,” he continues. “A good old-fashioned family vacation.” He grins from ear to ear.
“What?” I say, confused.
“Okay, so Nick mentioned that he's taking the kids on a vacation. He said he asked you along, so I scored myself an invite, too.” He sits back in his chair, looking proud of himself. “It will be great for Max and Milly. They could really use a break, and what could be better than fishing, good food, and good company? It sounds great, doesn't it?”
“Sure,” I say my heart racing. What else can I say? “It's a great idea,” I mutter.
I throw the rest of my coffee down the sink, suddenly unable to stomach it. I wait for Dad to leave for work before I bolt next door in search of Nick. I find him just as he’s closing his front door. I glance at the car, where the kids are already strapped in.
“Hey,” he says with a smile. He frowns when he sees my expression.
“Do you need to tell me something, Nick?” I growl, with my hands resting on my hips.
The color drains from his face. “Fuck. He told you, didn’t he? I’m so sorry, Anna. I couldn't help it. He invited himself along. What was I supposed to say to the guy?” he asks weakly.
“Jesus, Nick. How about no?” I retort, still in disbelief.
“I'm sorry,” he protests again. “I really had no choice. Short of saying, ‘hey, I'm fucking your daughter,’ there was nothing that would’ve gotten me out of this.”
“Fine,” I growl, knowing I can’t be angry at him for this. “So, what’s the plan?” I say, rubbing my temples.
“I hired a houseboat. For a week,” he mutters.
“A freaking houseboat?” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Jesus, keep your voice down,” he hisses, glancing at his car.
“You're telling me that for the next week, I'm stuck on a houseboat with my boyfriend, my father—who also happens to be my boyfriend’s best friend—and my boyfriend’s two kids?” Nick winces. “And you want me to keep my voice down?”
