“You don’t need long.” His lips slowly curved into a fond smile as he looked me over. “You are stunning, as always, Lila, and that has nothing to do with what you’re wearing or how long you took on your hair or makeup.”
I was starting to blush again and waved dismissively. “Of course you think that. All fathers think that.”
Smiling, he crossed the room to take my hand, tugging me gently toward my desk. “And all fathers are correct. But I mean it, Pumpkin. You’re perfect, just the way you are.”
Oh dear, I was moving into tomato territory with the blush now. “Daddy.”
“Clearly I don’t say it enough. You don’t need to strive toward perfection, because I love you for yourself, Lila. Here, sign this.”
Blinking at the change in topic, I glanced down at the folio he pointed at. It was one of those leather-boundones full of legal mumbo jumbo. Peering down at it, I saw somewhereas, a fewtherefores, and a bunch of language about square footage and easements.
When I glanced at my father, he was standing there, holding a pen out to me.
Bemused, I took it, wondering why he needed me to sign what was obviously a real estate deal moments before I was due to skate in front of four hundred donors.
“Here.” He pointed, and I signed my name with the same careful flourish I’d perfected years ago in business school. “And here.” He flipped the page, his finger jabbing the paper. “Initial here, here and here…and sign and date here.”
I did as he asked, noting that he’d signed his name and the date above mine on the last line.
Capping the pen, I handed it back to him with a teasing grin. “There. Satisfied?”
My father nodded firmly, and as he slid the pen back into his breast pocket, said, “You did that without even reading the contract.”
I had a flash of concern—should I have read it? Was he criticizing me? But then I exhaled and told myself that the knots in my stomach were making me antsy.
“Of course,” I said simply. “I trust you.”
“No you don’t.”
Before I could object to the sudden hardness in his tone, or his words, my father reached out and took my hands in both of his, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
“You don’t trust me, Pumpkin. You don’t trust me enough to trust that I love you exactly as you are.” He squeezed my hands, his eyes shining with—were those tears? I don’t think I’d ever seen my father cry before, not even when his marriages fell apart. “You’re messy—we’re all messy. Hell, Lila, I’m the messiest person I know, when it comes to my personal life, and you still love me.”
My heart was pounding against my ribcage, and all I could think about was comforting him. “Of course I love you, Daddy.”
“You love me despite how screwed up I am?—”
“Maybe I love youbecauseof that,” I tried to tease, but knew my smile fell short.
Because maybe it was the truth; maybe I’d tried so hard all these years to be perfectbecauseI wanted him to have something to be proud of when his marriages were in disarray.
The rueful tug of his lips told me that he’d heard the unspoken words, and his hands squeezed mine.
“You love me, despite all that shit, Pumpkin. So I need you to believe me that I’ll love you even if you’re not perfect.” He sighed. “All those years, all those lessons, all the training…I thought it was whatyouwanted. You went through thatpretty princess stage, and…”
“And I never really grew out of it,” I finished, my smile turning wry. “You’re right, Daddy. Idolike feeling all prim and proper and refined. But…” I shrugged, remembering how good it felt to hit the target with the thrown ax. “Not all the time.”
“You shouldn’t have to feel perfect all the time. You should feel comfortable falling apart sometimes and letting the people closest to you see you like that.”
Kardok had seen me like that. I could feel my cheeks heating as I remembered theotherways Kardok had seen me, and I dropped my gaze to my father’s chin, hoping he couldn’t see what I was thinking.
From his snort, it was a vain hope. “Maybe I could be theotherperson you let see you as less than perfect?” he asked gently.
I wondered how he’d known.
He blew out a breath. “Lila, you don’t need to be perfect. Not for me, not for anyone. Kardok and I both love you just the way you are.”
My gaze had snapped back up to his identical blue one at the mention of Kardok’s name, and the denial was on my lips before I could think it through. “He doesn’t—he hasn’t… What do you mean?”
