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“I’m just playing host, Sara, for Warren’s sake. I want things to work out well for him. That. Is. All.” Dylan stepped into his room. “I don’t want to hear any more about it.” With that, he closed the door before Sara could reply.
Carrying the scotch he’d poured before coming up, he walked it out onto his balcony. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to Sara about only wanting things to work out for Warren’s sake. It was true. Still, he hadn’t been completely honest with Sara.
He’d been physically attracted to Callie the first time he’d met her. However, there was more to it than that. Something about Callie affected him on a deeper level in a way no one had since the back-stabbing bitch Francesca.
Propping his bare feet up on the balcony railing, Dylan leaned back in his chair and gazed out across the ocean. He’d gone onto the private balcony to clear his mind. Yet, the scene outside Callie’s motel room kept playing over and over in his head. Every fiber in his body had urged him to capture her lush, full lips with his. To give her a kiss she wouldn’t soon forget. Thankfully, his brain had kicked in at the last minute, reminding him who she was and why he was with her. In the end, he saved them both a lot of awkwardness and dropped a brief kiss on her cheek.
Then there had been that flash of light he’d caught out of the corner of his eye. Had it been just a car passing by or had it been a flash from a camera? The paparazzi hadn’t bothered him since his break up with Francesca. He saw no reason why they would now.
Had someone learned who Callie was? Sara’s comment about the media and getting rid of Callie suddenly came to mind. Almost as quickly, he dismissed the notion. Sara might be upset, but she adored her father and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his campaign.
It must have been a car driving by. Pushing all thoughts of the evening’s events from his head, he focused on the star-filled sky.
Normally, the relaxing view and the breeze coming up from the Atlantic would clear his head, but not tonight. Instead, he found himself wishing for a certain someone’s company. As a rule, he never brought the women he dated to Cliff House. In his mind, it was the family’s private home, yet sitting here, he couldn’t help wish he could share the view with Callie. He’d learned a lot about her during their time together, and he knew how much she loved the ocean.
She’ll see the view tomorrow when she comes. Dylan finished off his scotch in one long swallow.
He needed to keep reminding himself that Callie was Warren’s daughter, not some random woman he’d met at a club or society event. If he did that, maybe he could squash the feelings he had for her. Feelings he didn’t want. Feelings that were gaining momentum. A long time ago, he promised himself no woman would get inside his heart again. He didn’t plan on breaking that promise, not for Callie Taylor, not for anyone.
Chapter 5
Callie pulled up to Cliff House’s security gate the next day, eager to finally get this meeting with her father over with. In her opinion, the first time doing anything was always the most difficult and awkward. She didn’t expect this to be any different.
Despite this fact Callie wasn’t as nervous today about meeting her father as she had been on Friday afternoon. Perhaps she had Dylan to thank for that. He’d told her a lot about Warren when they’d spent the day together. Or maybe it was because her mind was so worried about how the rest of her father’s family would react, that it couldn’t be bothered with anything else.
Her brief meeting with Sara told her not everyone wanted to welcome her into the family with open arms. What if her father’s wife and their son shared Sara’s sentiment?
“Stop worrying about it.” Callie parked and looked at the structure before her. “If they don’t like me, there’s nothing I can do about it. Remember, he invited me here. I didn’t ask to come, and after today, I never have to come back if I choose.”
The same expressionless butler greeted her at the door and informed her Senator Sherbrooke was waiting for her in the study.
As Callie followed the butler through the mansion, she let her eyes wander. It appeared as if no one else was around. Did that mean only her father was home? Or did that mean the whole family was together, waiting for her? She knew she wasn’t ready to meet the whole family at once. Talk about overload.
A feeling of déjà vu washed over her when the butler stopped and knocked on the same closed door. Callie clasped her hands in front of her and waited as the butler spoke.
Almost as soon as the butler told the room’s occupant she was there, the door opened further and Callie found herself staring into eyes identical to hers.
If she’d had any doubts about their relationship, they were gone as she stood staring at Warren Sherbrooke. She’d always wondered who she’d inherited her unusual eye color from. Everyone else in her family had some shade of brown eyes, yet she had eyes so blue people often commented on them. Warren Sherbrooke’s eyes were the exact same shade. The pictures she’d seen on the Internet hadn’t done them justice.
Smiling tentatively, Callie extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Senator Sherbrooke. I hope you’re feeling better.”
Somehow calling him Senator Sherbrooke seemed too formal considering the circumstances. At the same time, calling him dad didn’t feel right either, and she didn’t want to appear rude by calling him Warren.
Momentarily, his eyes got misty. For a second, she thought he might cry, but then he returned her smile. “I’m much better. Please come in.” Taking her by the elbow, he led her to the leather sofa. “We have a lot to talk about.”
That was an understatement if she’d ever heard one. She had a million questions, and with her mother gone, he was the only one who could answer them. The only problem was, she didn’t know how to start.
Should she just take control of the conversation and ask him the questions that had been plaguing her since she learned the truth? Or should she let him set the pace and tone of the conversation? See where things went and then, if she had more questions, ask them.
Man, she wished there was a “Dummies Guide to Meeting Your Father for the First Time” book. There seemed to be one on everything else these days.
“Would you like something to drink?” Warren asked once they were both seated. “Or something to eat? I thought we could join the rest of family for lunch, but if you’re hungry, a light snack can be prepared now.”
Though only a casual drinker, Callie thought a glass of wine might be a good idea, but she didn’t say so. After all, it was only ten o’clock in the morning. “I’m fine thank you. I ate something before I left the motel.”
“You have your mother’s smile,” Warren said after a moment of silence. “She was a wonderful person. I was sorry to hear that she passed.”
When it came to her mom’s death, her emotions were still too raw, and Callie clenched her teeth as she fought back tears. “She was a great mother. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for me.”
