Randy’s eyes meet mine in the rearview as he pulls the car into the flow of traffic. They’re cold and calculating, almost cruel in the way they scan me. Like he’s looking for imperfections.
Luckily, it’s a short drive to Luigi’s so I don’t have to sit too long in his judgemental presence. He pulls into the circle drive and I’m opening the door before the valet can take a step to open it for me. Still, I slip a twenty into his jacket pocket and strut inside, taking the elevator to the top of the building where Luigi’s is located. Did I mention it’s one of the hardest restaurants to get into in Axton Harbor? Like I said before, it’s only ever the best for dear old Dad.
I find the man sitting at the same table as always, right next to the window, with a perfect view of Helix Enterprises in the distance, and spaced with enough empty tables around him to hold a private conversation. It’s Friday night, so the place is buzzing as I weave between tables, offering a polite smile to the patrons I recognize as Helix clients.
Dad stands, kissing my cheek before I take my seat across from him. “I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of white wine. Although, it may be too warm now. You took longer to get here than I expected.”
“Sorry,” I force out. “I was finishing up the last of the reports before the news cycle closes for the weekend when you texted.”
“Always working,” he says with a softer smile than I’m used to seeing on his usual stoic face.
“Well, Helix definitely keeps me on my toes.” I reach for the glass, sucking back the wine far too quickly.
“I suppose so,” he muses, his eyes traveling around the restaurant. “And how are you?”
I pause with my glass to my lips. “How am I?”
Dad takes a sip of his own drink. A bourbon, neat, as usual. “I know this week was stressful.” His eyes–my eyes–slip back to me. Is it sad that I can’t even recall the last time he asked after my well-being? “How are you, Fallon?” His gaze softens, and I’m thrown back to a time when life was brighter, full of laughter and piggyback rides. Movie nights and good night stories. Another life all together. “I wanted to check in with you tonight. See how you’re doing after the chaos with Councilman Rogers.”
I shake my head. “It’s been a bit of a nightmare, but nothing I can’t handle.”
He nods, setting down his drink and sitting back in his chair to study me. “You did well. I saw the interview with the anchor fromDateline. You handled her accusation against Helix’s involvement like a professional.”
“Thanks, Dad.” My lips pull up into a grin. “She grilled me, but my team and I prepared beforehand for whatever she tossed my way.”
He chuckles. “My girl. Such fire. Always ready to take on the world.”
For a moment, we’re both smiling, staring at each other like this is a normal father-daughter relationship, like he’s someone I can confide in,tell my secrets and my worries to. I’d say the look on his face as he stares at me right now is something that looks a lot like pride…but then his gaze shifts to my plum-painted lips. His eyes tighten, his smile fading between one blink and the next.
“Could you not have picked a more classic color? For fuck’s sake, Fallon, you’re practically the face of this company. Don’t you realize the image you spit out to the media is the one that reflects back on me?”
I rear back at his sudden change in demeanor as if he’s slapped me. “I am aware. Of course, I’m aware.”
He rolls his eyes, but something, or someone, catches his attention from across the room, and that smile, that plastic, false fucking Ken-doll smile is back on his face. As easy as slipping on a mask. “He’s here,” Dad says, waving someone over to the table.
“Who’s here?” I glance over my shoulder, spotting a blonde-haired man in a pin-striped suit headed our way. I spin back to my dad. “Who is that coming over here?” I thought tonight was about us. I thought maybe he…
What? That he actually wanted to see how I’m feeling after a stressful week?Not fucking likely, Fallon.
Dad is still smiling, but he says without moving his lips more than necessary, “That’s Councilman Yeatts.” He stands, and then when he sees I haven’t moved an inch, leans down next to my ear. “Stand up,” he orders. “Do not embarrass me, Fallon.”
I want to rage, throw the rest of my wine in his face and scream. Instead, I numbly push to my feet and plaster a closed-lipped smile on my face as the more-than-likely future Councilman takes the empty seat to my left.
“Glad you could make it tonight, John,” Dad says, slapping Mr. Yeatts on the shoulder. “This is my daughter, my pride and joy, Fallon.”
Pride and joy. What a goddamn joke.
John Yeatts takes my hand before I can offer it, placing a kiss on the top. “What a pleasure it is to meet you. I’ve seen you in the news lately. I must say, the camera does not do your beauty justice.”
I extract my hand from his clammy one as quickly as I can. “Thank you.” The words come easily, but then again, I’m used to playing this part.
Dad and the future councilman get down to business and I signal the server over for another glass of wine.
Three hours later, I finally pull into the parking garage beneath my apartment building. Does it make sense that my dad had Randy drive me to the restaurant and then back to Helix Enterprises after dinner when I have a perfectly good car that I can drive myself? Absolutely not. But who am I to argue with Sebastian Helix?
Sighing, I press the lock button on my key fob and start for the elevator when I hear soft footsteps skidding against the pavement behind me. Gripping my key, I quickly glance over my shoulder, but there’s nobody there. I stop, then turn in a full circle, scanning the garage.
I swear I heard something.
