“I don’t have to like his job to break bread with him. But welcoming him into the family when that job is to take my daughter down, that’s a different story.”
“He’s not trying to take me down in any cruel or undermining way.”
“Accusing you of holding Bayside back and being the town’s economic drain isn’t undermining?” Dad balks. “How is that okay? Because it’s in the context of his job?”
“Your concerns are valid. You don’t trust him yet. But Dakarai is my champion. He wants me to succeed. I know that sounds at odds with his job, but I have no doubts about the way he feels about me.”
“How do you know he isn’t manipulating you? Using your feelings to benefit Diablo?”
I bristle at the insinuation. “Do you think I’m still that gullible? That I’d let a man play in my face like that again?”
“No. But some men are good at deception. They fool even the most discerning people.”
“That’s not DK. He’s risking his job, too. His career. His reputation.”
“That’s hardly on the same level.”
“Maybe not. But you said yourself that you liked him. That he impressed you as being a together brother.”
“That’s what he gives off. Doesn’t mean it’s real.” He looks at me intently. “I can’t just ignore the fact that he strategizes ways to publicly deconstruct who you are and what you stand for.”
“It’s not personal, Dad. I wouldn’t want him to hold back or make it easy for me. We can exist as equals, even on different sides.”
Doubt remains etched in the tightness of his features.
“He respects me,” I continue, hoping to make him understand. “He sees me, I mean, really sees me. He’s not just brilliant, he’s kind and loving. He’s been through his own hell and came out stronger. He sends me care packages, my favorite champagne, and he bought these bandages for my feet today after he saw me limping. That’s DK. He wants to call you—not as some outdated ritual, but because he wants to tell you himself how he feels.”
“Baby girl…” He exhales. “I’m not trying to rain on your romance, but you really dropped a bomb on me.”
“Is it too much to accept?” I ask around the knot in my throat. It wouldn’t change how I feel about DK, but I couldn’t bear a rift between us.
His hand covers mine—the same hand that bandaged every scrape and dried every tear.
“I’m sure you’ve thought about what this could do to your campaign.”
“We both have.”
He studies me, his eyes reflective, as if he’s rolling back the years. “Even as a child, you never took the road most traveled. This one is full of hazards, but… I just have to trust the woman I raised. If you tell me he’s the real deal, then I’ll take his call.”
Relief rushes through me. My dad is a fair man, but he’s also cautious. He and DK have that in common.
“Thanks, Dad,” I murmur, squeezing his hand.
“Now I know why I got coconut loaf.” His voice loses some of its edge, though he holds a straight face.
“Not a bribe,” I say. “Just softening you up a little.”
“He really bought you bandages?”
I nod, smiling. “An entire pharmacy’s worth. Gel inserts, blister pads, the works.”
Dad huffs, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt of begrudging respect. “At least the man has sense enough to look after your feet.”
And my heart. But I don’t say that.
I’ll let DK speak for himself.
Chapter Thirty-Three
