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“Not really.” He shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it was a great house, but I’ll build another one.”
Now that was a surprise. Steve had never talked about building another house before. A house for them? Or one just for him? She couldn’t imagine living anywhere but here in Whispering Bay. But if he asked her to move, would she?
The answer was so clear to her.
Yes. She’d go anywhere he asked her to. But would he ever ask?
“You know, I think today was the first day in almost a year that you didn’t call me in the afternoon.” She sounded whiny, but she couldn’t help herself.
He glanced away to adjust the cuffs on his shirt, which was odd because he’d done that already. “Sorry, I was out at a construction site and there was no cell phone service. Did you need something?”
For a second, she didn’t know what to say. Had Steve just lied to her? He’d never lied to her. Not that she was aware of. But he was suddenly having trouble meeting her gaze. “Um, no, I just wanted to know how the interview with Tom went.”
His right eye twitched. “Like I said, I hired the guy.”
Okay. There was definitely something off. His answer bordered on almost hostile. What was going on here? If they weren’t already running late, she’d take this conversation further.
She picked up her clutch purse. “Okay, I’m ready.”
She’d turned to walk out the door, when he grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound abrupt. You know I would do anything to make you happy, right?”
She swallowed hard. He sounded so sincere. So loving. She should feel reassured. But for some reason, she felt the exact opposite.
#
The Harbor House was Whispering Bay’s fanciest restaurant. Located directly on the gulf, it boasted a superb view from nearly every table. That, and the elegant (aka, expensive) seafood and extensive wine list, put it on nearly every restaurant magazine’s best places to eat in the Florida panhandle.
Kitty plastered a huge smile on her face as Steve escorted her into the packed dining room. The hostess guided them toward the back of the restaurant. She spotted her father first, but he didn’t notice her. He was too busy laughing at something his companion was saying.
She could do this. She could smile and make nice with her father’s latest conquest. No matter how young or silly or inappropriate she might be. She would do it because he was her father and she loved him. Simple as that.
“So here you are,” the hostess chirped as she handed them their menus. “Enjoy your dinner!”
Dad stood and enveloped her in a hug. He wore a suit and tie and smelled like expensive cologne. Even at sixty-five, Alan Burke could still be considered handsome, with a full head of salt-and-pepper-colored hair and smiling brown eyes. He pulled back to inspect her. “Sweetheart! You look fabulous!”
“So do you, Daddy.”
He stretched his hand across the table toward his date. Kitty turned to greet her and for a moment… No. She blinked. Then she blinked again.
The woman holding her father’s hand and smiling back at her shyly was old enough to be Kitty’s mother!
“Sweetheart, this is Sharon Ackerman,” her father said. “Sharon, this is my little Kitten. Well, not so little anymore, I suppose.” His smile had enough wattage behind it to light up a stadium.
Steve shook hands with her father and Sharon. Kitty, on the other hand, must have seemed like a deaf mute because after a few seconds, Steve put his hand on the small of her back and exerted just enough pressure to snap her out of her stupor.
“Um, hello! Sharon, so nice to meet you!” Kitty managed to say.
Sharon reached out and hugged her. It was similar to being in some sort of weird dream where she saw herself hug Sharon back, only it didn’t seem to be really happening.
“Sorry! I’m a hugger,” Sharon said in a warm southern accent. She was medium height with blonde hair cut into a sophisticated chin-length bob. Her blue eyes (with the crow’s feet around them!) glowed with happiness. Her red linen dress with a simple scarf and pearl earrings showcased her toned figure, but the skin on her neck and arms revealed the normal loss of elasticity for a woman of about sixty. Kitty would bet her last dollar this lady had never seen the inside of a plastic surgeon’s office.
“Well!” Dad slapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly. “I think this calls for some champagne!”
No. This called for vodka!
What was her father doing with this woman? Yes, she was close to his age and attractive, and she certainly seemed nice enough, but this wasn’t his usual style at all. What was going on here?
“I love champagne!” Sharon smiled and patted the seat next to her. “Kitty, sit here so we can talk better. I’m so excited to finally meet Alan’s daughter! He’s told me so much about you.”
