Page 119 of The Daddy’s Girl

“She’s persistent all right,” I mumble, sinking back down into the chair.

“So, tell me about…her…or him?”

I clear my throat. Fuck.

“Her,” I say, my brows pinched together. “And…she’s incredible. She’s funny and beautiful and has the kindest heart I have ever met.”

The corner of his mouth tugs upward as he watches me from across the desk.

“I’ve waited years to watch you fall in love,” he says. “It’s about time. When do we get to meet her?”

Trying to clear my throat, I end up in a coughing fit mostly from the burn of the whiskey that seems to have gone down wrong.

Ronan chuckles on the other side of the desk. “Okay fine, I’ll slow down. You’re not ready for that. Message received.”

I laugh it off with him, but it’s clear to me that I can’t be totally natural around Ronan in this scenario. And not just because it’s Amelia I’m dating but because talking about relationships in general is new to me.

After that awkward encounter, I follow Ronan out of the office and to the dining room, where Amelia and Daisy are enjoying their lunch. I accept their offer to stay, sitting across from Amelia as a quiche is placed on the table in front of me.

She’s talking about her sketches and ideas for her fashion show, and I’m so enamored by her as she speaks that the realization doesn’t dawn until a few moments later.

If Amelia gets into her program, she won’t be able to leave Paris.

And getting into her program is exactly what she wants.

With a smile, I look down at her sketches as if it’s my first time seeing them. “You are so talented,” I say with a wink as she fights back her blush.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my biggest fan,” she replies.

“No, I’m your biggest fan because you are so talented.”

While she and I argue, her parents watch us with pleased expressions on their faces. They’re proud of themselves because they think they chose the perfect godfather for their daughter.

If only they knew the truth.

Rule #33: There’s nothing worse than talking to your dad about your crush.

Amelia

“Hey, kiddo.” My dad taps on my bedroom door, and I lift my head from the mattress to greet him.

“Hey,” I reply, feeling half asleep. After barely getting any sleep last night with Matis, I want to do nothing else today but lie in bed and binge-watch reality TV.

When my dad walks in and sits on the corner of the bed, I get the feeling he wants to talk so I lower the volume.

“Your mom said you were a little snappy earlier when she mentioned the club in London. I’m sorry for not bringing it up to you first.”

My skin starts to crawl with frustration. It’s certifiably weird how my parents are acting with this new club. The way they baby me in situations of change is not entirely unfounded. I have thrown many a fit in the past over small instances of unexpected change, but being reminded of that does not make me feel any better. Besides, it’s been years.

And why must they be so fucking accommodating? Just tell me to get over it like a normal parent would.

“Must you two share everything?” I mutter with an eye roll.

“When it comes to you and your brother, yes.”

“I already told Mom it doesn’t bother me. I mean, I doubt he’ll take it anyway.” My tone is short and laced with irritation, which makes me feel bad because my dad doesn’t deserve that. It’s not his fault I lash out at the smallest inconvenience.

My dad stares at me for a moment, nodding with contemplation. “He told me he met someone.”