Page 24 of Effortless

“Back the fuck up,” Calisto interrupted.

Tom’s gaze darted to Calisto. “Huh?”

“This is about Camilla? You’re here about my daughter?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, don’t fucking pose it as a question, now. Either you are, or you are not. Which one is it?”

Calisto reminded Tom of his no-nonsense father’s demeanor in that moment. Don’t fucking beat around the bush, Tommaso, his father liked to say.

Clearing his throat, Tom said, “I am.”

Calisto’s shocked expression was the complete opposite of his next words. “Sorry, but you just came here for nothing, Tommaso.”

“Pardon?”

“You wasted your time,” Calisto clarified, “especially coming to me.”

“That has got to be the fastest rejection—”

“No.” Calisto rubbed at his forehead like he had a headache coming on. “I mean, I take it you’re here to ask me if you can take my daughter out, and you don’t need to ask me at all. I don’t make those choices for Cam, I never have. Neither does her mother. She’s nineteen, smart as fuck, too; so she is more than capable of saying whether or not she’s interested in someone.”

Tommaso rested back in his chair. “But you’re …”

“For Camilla? I’m just her dad.” Calisto chuckled, but then added, “And I love her very much. So, should something happen between the two of you that displeases me because it displeases her, then you can safely assume we will revisit this conversation. But until then, Tommaso, the rest is up to, and has always been up to, my daughter.”

“Okay.”

Calisto waved at his office door.

Just like that, Tom was dismissed.

Just like that, he was good to take another shot at Camilla Donati.

Huh.

“So, have a nice day, and enjoy your visit. If it helps with Cam, she likes action movies, pretty cars, and dancing.”

Tom didn’t know if it would help, but fuck, it couldn’t hurt.

CHAPTER FOUR

“SO …”

Camilla made an effort to keep her attention on the steaks she was rubbing down with one of Emma’s special sauces, and not the gossipy tone her mother used. Across the kitchen, her mother sat reading a book, while also keeping one eagle-eye on Camilla at the same time. She had learned to cook alongside her mother, yet Emma didn’t trust Camilla to cook everything exactly the same way she did.

She partly blamed it on her mother being Italian. Another part of it was probably Emma’s need to make sure her kids could handle themselves out in the Wild, Wild West that was the world. Her mom always had one of her kids coming and going from the house with the promise of some new thing to do. Usually cooking, but sometimes she changed it up.

“How’s Daddy feeling today?” Camilla asked.

Maybe if Camilla asked a different question, she could keep her mother’s attention away from whatever Emma was going to ask. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn’t.

“He’s feeling okay. The headache passed yesterday.”

Camilla looked up from the steaks to find her mother was avoiding her daughter’s gaze. She wasn’t surprised. Her father’s—Calisto—health was a sore subject. Something was wrong with her dad. Between the headaches, the episodes that threw him into his past, and the tests the doctors had him running to every other week, Camilla just knew …

Something bad was going on inside her father’s brain.