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He studies me, the air in the car growing dense.
“Tell me, what were you just thinking?” I ask, stealing the earlier question from Tyler, my voice a little hoarse from the inhalation of all the smoke and this sun god’s rapt attention.
“Some other time.”
He tears out of the driveway as I giggle in my seat—the ride home as exhilarating as the last few hours. Windows down, the wind whips my hair around my face as Sean speeds down the deserted roads that lead to my father’s palace. Heavy bass thuds throughout the cabin, old southern rock wafting out of the speakers. I stick my hand out my window and air surf, my chest bubbling with possibilities as I steal a glance at Sean and see a promising gleam in his eyes while a subtle smile graces his lips.
It’s the start of a great summer.
“GOOD MORNING, CECELIA,” ROMAN SAYS as I join him in the dining room. He sits at the polished table in a high-backed chair. The rest of the room is empty, save robin’s egg and cream draperies that I know are worth a fortune. He’s dressed in some designer or another as he skillfully plucks some grapefruit onto his fork.
“Good morning, Sir.”
“
I heard you arrive last night. Is there something wrong with your car?” He’s displeased.
Tough shit.
“I’m having it serviced, and I’ll be picking it up this afternoon.” It’s the only lie I can manage as I fight the urge to press my hands to my temples.
I had no idea that cider could be so potent. Passing on the small breakfast display, I duck into the kitchen—a Michelin star chef’s dream—pull a bottled water from the fridge, gather some of the yogurt I requested his housekeeper buy, and snatch a few grapes. Back in the dining room, I peek out the window to see the front of the property lit up with the new day’s sun. The house would be perfect for a family that enjoyed each other’s company. It saddens me that it’s wasted on a man who doesn’t appreciate it.
“Your first day is today.”
“Yep,” I take the seat opposite him.
“Your word choice is not appreciated, nor is your lack of enthusiasm,” he says dryly, scrolling through his phone.
“Sorry, Sir, I’m still a little shell shocked from the move. I’m sure I’ll have more when I’m fully awake.”
He eyes me, and I see some of myself in our shared dark blue, along with my inherited chestnut hair. “Do you have everything you need?”
I nod. “Anything I don’t, I can grab myself.”
He sets his phone down and regards me with the authority of a parent, which is both laughable and irritating. “I want you to take advantage of this year. Really weigh your options. Have you decided on a major?”
“Not yet.”
“It’s getting late.”
I glance at my new Apple Watch, a first-day gift he had waiting on the threshold of my door last night when I got home. I’m still deciphering if it was a hint on the schedule I agreed to keep or a kind gesture. “It’s only eight a.m.”
“Don’t be coy.”
I wink at him. “Learned from the best.” That’s a lie. I haven’t learned a thing from this man, except time is money for him, and both seem to be better spent elsewhere. I pop a grape in my mouth. “Thank you for the watch.”
He ignores my appreciation, his jaw tensing. “I got a call from HR.”
I slump in my seat and swallow. “Oh yeah?”
“What were you thinking with that comment?”
“I wasn’t, Sir. And I assure you, it won’t happen again.” And it won’t. I’ve spent the majority of my life on the right side of things, and it’s always been by choice. Sean was right. I’m far more good girl than rebel by decision. I’ve seen one too many of my peers go the other way, and it did not fare well for them. Not at all. However, nothing about this exchange is sitting well with me. Any authority my father has right now over my life, I’m granting him, and hating it. It would be so easy to push away from the table and claim my life back, and the year he’s stealing. But it’s more than money, it’s my mother’s welfare dangling overhead, so I straighten my posture. “I’m looking forward to it, honestly. I just may have overdone it a little last night.”
“Not really what a father wants to hear.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘where’s this father you speak of?’ but instead I play nice.
