Page 104 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

“When? You mean if.” Henry crossed his arms. “Fine. If you make another basket, I’ll do your chores for a week.”

I rolled my eyes. I lived at home, but we didn’t really have chores, so to speak.

“Clementine?” Dad’s voice called from the back door. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

I glanced at the time on my phone. It was already three o’clock, and I needed to leave for the venue soon. We were doing a walkthrough and testing a couple of dishes. We were hoping to get some prep work done early as well.

“I’ll kick your butt later, kid,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Henry said.

I headed toward the door where Dad was still waiting for me. “What’s up?”

“In my study, please.”

Something in his tone made my stomach clench. Dad was usually easygoing, the type of parent who trusted me to make good decisions and rarely questioned my judgment. But there was an edge to his voice that I’d never heard before.

I had never really been in trouble before. But there had been a few times that a lecture was warranted. This felt like I was in trouble.

I followed him through the house to his study. It was a cozy room lined with books and family photos. It was his domain. I had probably only been in the space a handful of times. He closed the door behind us and gestured for me to sit in one of the leather chairs across from his desk.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly feeling like a kid who’d been called to the principal’s office.

He opened his laptop and turned it toward me. On the screen was an article with a photo that made my blood run cold. It was me and Rhett, clearly taken during one of our events. We were kissing. Well, it was a lot more than a kiss. The headline read something about “Chef Rhett Voss and his young protégé.” My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

I stared at the picture. I felt violated. Someone saw that and decided to take a picture? It was rude. They could have said something.

I opened my mouth, but I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say. It wasn’t like I had done anything wrong. I was an adult. Rhett was an adult. We didn’t need permission. I didn’t think he had a girlfriend. He didn’t mention it and I didn’t think Rhett was the cheating type. He just seemed to be too honest.

“Clementine, did you even think about what kind of bad press this fundraiser would get if the media caught wind of you hooking up with your mentor?”

I stared at the photo, horrified. “Dad, I⁠—”

“Not only that, but now your name is being dragged through this. The whole Hartley name, as a matter of fact.” His voice was calm, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

My stomach dropped as I looked at the photo again, trying to process what Dad was saying. The disappointment in his voice cut deeper than any anger would have.

“I expected more discretion from you, Clementine,” he continued, his tone measured but firm. “You’re a Hartley. I thought you knew better than to have silly hookups.”

“Silly hookups?” The words stung, and I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and indignation. “Dad, it’s not⁠—”

“What is it then?” He leaned back in his chair, studying me with those eyes that had always been able to see right through me. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like my daughter threw away her professional reputation for a fling with her mentor.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand.

“Do you have any idea what this does to the fundraiser? To the soup kitchen project? We’ve worked for months to build credibility for this cause, and now the headlines are all about scandal instead of helping people.” His voice remained calm, which somehow made it worse. If he’d yelled, I could have gotten defensive. But this quiet disappointment was devastating.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, staring down at my hands. “I didn’t think⁠—”

“That’s exactly the problem. You didn’t think.” He closed the laptop with a soft click. “You’re twenty-four years old, Clementine. You’re not some starry-eyed kid. I get he’s an attractive man, but he’s older. He doesn’t have a great reputation to begin with.”

“I don’t care about reputations,” I scoffed. “Clearly, rumors are just that.”

“What if this impacts Henry’s scholarship opportunities?”

The color drained from my face. “It won’t! It can’t! This has nothing to do with Henry!”

“That’s not how the real world works, sweetheart,” Dad said. “People make high-stakes decisions based on bias all the time. I’ve already gotten calls from two major sponsors who just pulled out of the soup kitchen project. Three days before their final checks were due. Rhett’s mafia connections were tough to overcome but this is a new problem. People get upset about this kind of thing. You’re young. He’s supposed to be a role model.”