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She had just lied to her father. Sheila almost winced at the thought. Of course, it wasn’t the first time. There had been the time she had slipped out to go to that party with a college boy during her senior year. She’d told her father she was staying all night with her friend Cara Cartwright. And there had been the night a few weeks ago when her father had called and asked her at the last minute to accompany him to a dinner in Corpus Christi with the city’s mayor.
Sheila had told him she wasn’t feeling well. At that exact moment, Casey had been undressing.
“And what has you so distracted?” He moved into the office, obviously thoughtful as he began searching the room.
Sheila walked over to him, tapped his shoulder with a smile, and then, as he turned to her, lifted the glasses from his graying hair and handed them to him.
“Hmm.” He held the glasses and glared at them accusingly before looking up and giving her a sheepish smile. “I should remember to look here, huh? Your mother was always doing the same thing. She’d find them and hand them right to me.”
Sheila nodded wistfully. “I remember, Dad.”
“You look just like her,” he sighed. “Some days, I can almost swear she’s home again as I watch you move around those gardens.”
She could hear the loss in his voice. For all his full and busy life, she knew her father desperately missed the woman he had called his wife. Just as she knew that he had felt no woman would ever compare to her.
He patted her on her shoulder, a gesture of affection, before dropping a kiss to the top of her head and going to his desk.
“I had a call from Cooper earlier,” he told her as he slipped his glasses back on his face, sat down, and looked up at her.
“What does he need?” Sitting on the side of the desk as she had even as a young girl, she pulled her jean-clad legs up to the top of the side of the desk, crossed them, and watched her father expectantly.
“The network is doing very well.” Her father sat back in his chair as his face creased thoughtfully. “Cooper’s group is one of our best, and the information he’s been pulling in has been damned important.”
Sheila nodded. The Broken Bar wasn’t the only operational location set up to gather intel on criminal and terrorist activities, and it wasn’t the only location under her father’s command, but as he said, it was one of the best.
“So why did he call?” she asked.
“According to Cooper, you’ve been slipping in, getting the intel, and slipping back out. You’re not coming in at your usual time, and you’re acting nervous.”
Sheila looked beyond his shoulder to the gardens outside. Rather than facing the question in her father’s gaze, she avoided it.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, that heavy social life you have,” he grunted with what she called his loving sarcasm. He had a way of saying things to her that let her know he was clearly disapproving and/or disappointed. Sometimes just plain disbelieving.
In this case, perhaps it was all three.
“Yeah, my social life is just all that,” she agreed with the same tone.
“Yep, it’s matching Casey’s if my suspicions are correct.”
And there it was. Sheila had wondered how long it would take her father to say something if he was aware of the relationship. Or the non-relationship. Whatever the hell it was. Or had been.
A wave of pain swept through her as she fought to keep from dragging in a ragged breath.
God, she missed him. She missed his touch, the sound of his voice, the amusement in his gaze, and that crooked smile he often carried.
“I wouldn’t know,” she finally said faintly.
“Yeah, avoiding him will do that.” She watched him nod from the corner of her eye as he continued to watch her. “Is it working?”
She shook her head, not bothering to lie any longer.
It wasn’t working.
“How did you know?” she finally asked without meeting his gaze.
“Ah yes, how did your father find out you were sleeping with one of his agents when you were so very careful to hide it?” That disappointment was there. “I’ve known since the first night you didn’t come home because you were at his apartment,” he revealed. “I swore to your mother I’d watch out for you, Sheila. I almost messed up with Ross Mason, but I haven’t messed up since.”
