"I'm fine," I said, flapping a hand at him.
While I coughed a couple more times, my father spoke to Forrest. "Have you known my daughter for long?"
Thanks for giving a shit.
"A little while," Forrest said. "We've been dating for a few weeks now."
Did people say that these days? That they were dating? Whatever, my father would know what it meant. It was better than saying we were fucking each other. Or killing people together. Or working together to find out if he was up to no good.
"I see," my father said. "You two are an interesting combination."
What did he mean by that? That I wasn't good enough for Forrest? I didn't think he meant Forrest wasn't good enough forme, although it was possible he meant Forrest hadn't offered him money, or some other incentive, to give his approval yet.
"We're a very interesting combination, Daddy," I told him.
I didn't miss a faint smirk on Forrest's lips, possibly him hoping I'd call him daddy instead. Later.
"Forrest has been wonderful to me." I put an arm around him and smiled up at him sweetly.
I could almost see the wheels in my father's brain turning. Wondering what he could do with this. Having a judge in the family, in his pocket, he'd use that to his advantage if he could.
"I'm sure he has," he said smoothly. "Forrest, will you excuse me? I'd like to have a word alone with my daughter." He didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed my arm and pulled me through a door at the side of the room, down towards the back of the house, in the direction of his office.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Careful, I don't want to spill my drink." I didn't give a shit about my drink. I was more worried about where he was taking me and why.
"Quiet," he snapped. He pushed me through the doorway, stepped in behind me and closed the door.
The office was dimly lit. The heavy desk sat near the window the same one I remembered from the last time I was here. Bookcases lined the walls. Also not new. The curtains were open onto a view of the moonlit beach, the waves lapping at the sand.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked as sweetly as I could.
"Why are you here?" he asked. "I know your mother didn't invite you. She didn't think you'd want to come. Then out of the blue you call and ask for an invitation?"
He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms.
"Can a girl not attend her own parents' Christmas party?" I asked, dropping the mask a little. Did he really not want me here?
"You've never been interested before," he said. "You've always hated all of that." He gestured vaguely toward the door.
"The overt displays of wealth?" I asked. "Yeah, I've never been a fan. I don't see the point of it. Do you need all of that to impress the people here?"
"I don't," he said. "You know what your mother is like. If it's not too much, then it's not enough."
I snorted softly. That was the truth. My mother did OTT to the next level. If people weren't talking about this party in two or three years' time, she hadn't worked hard enough. That is to say, the people she hired to make the place pretty hadn't worked hard enough. Either way, it would reflect on her, as far as she was concerned.
"Are you trying to say you don't enjoy it either?" I asked.
One of his shoulders rose slightly before dropping back down again. "It doesn't much matter to me. Keeping your mother happy is easier than having her be unhappy."
"Yeah, if she's pissed off, she'll let you know about it," I said dryly.
Were we having a real conversation here? I couldn't remember the last time that happened. Unicorns were more common.
"There's a lot we need to talk about," he said. "What happened with Wolfgang for one."
For a moment I thought he was going to apologize, but then he said, "That was disappointing for all concerned. You had it good with him, then he had to go and get himself killed."
I stared at him. Had it good with Wolfgang? Was he out of his mind, or did he just not know?
