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“You know I have a big presentation that will make or break my company for the next few years, right?”
She nodded again, dread filling her stomach at the thought of ruining anything for him.
He squinted. “Geoffrey really didn’t tell you about the conference?”
She shook her head.
He leaned back into the plush couch and shook his head. “Why would he tell me he’d told you, and that you were excited to come?”
She clasped her hands. “I’m so sorry, David.”
He studied her face for another long moment. “Am I going to be hit with any surprises while I’m here?” He tilted his head.
Emily stared at the tablet in her lap. It wasn’t fair to hold back information that would affect him and his company. She inhaled and spoke toward the tablet. “My real name is Emma Parker,” she began in a voice barely above a whisper. “My father’s name is Joseph Parker. I ran away from home when I was sixteen.” She blew out a breath and met his concerned gaze. “You have a workshop with my father tomorrow morning.”
“You’re Joe Parker’s daughter?”
Emily nodded. “You know him?”
“I do. I remember when you ran away.” He grimaced and rubbed his jaw. “Have you talked to him since you left?”
“I haven’t talked to him, or the rest of my family, since I left.”
He nodded again, still studying her. He ran his hand over his mouth and scratched his stubbly chin. “Is there going to be an issue with being around him?” he asked, his voice gentler than she would have expected in this kind of situation.
She pressed her lips together. What would it be like to see her father—and most likely her mother—again? Her stomach twisted, remembering the last weekend before she left for Juilliard when Rafael and her father...
She shook her head, pushing away the memory.
Emily ran her fingers along the edge of the tablet. “I won’t ruin your trip, David. I promise.” She swallowed hard and blinked several times, before lifting her chin and giving him a timid smile. She would put the past behind her and be the best assistant she could be. For him. If nothing else, it was time away from Geoffrey. Time away from the fear of being hurt. David would never hurt her.
He sat up. “Emily, I know you don’t like to talk about your past, but...” He blew out a breath. “I also know your dad can be a son-of-a-bitch. I’m not particularly fond of him because he’ll do anything to get what he wants, and I don’t like people who put success before everything else.” He pursed his lips. “I realize I’m not exactly the epitome of moral purity, but my wife and I have an understanding.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen Joe turn his back on an ally more than once.” He put his hand on hers and his voice softened. “Why did you run away?”
She bit her lip, wondering how much she should tell him. It wasn’t fair to hide anything. The last thing he needed was to be hit with her past in the middle of an important meeting for his company. There were events and workshops not only with her father but also with Rafael. If Emily was acting as his assistant... who knew what they would tell David? They were excellent story-spinners.
“Emily?”
She looked up into his kind green eyes. “It... didn’t start with my dad.” She stared at the floor as she told him about the retreat with Rafael, much as she had with Mark. No details, but enough information to give him a general idea of what happened.
“Your dad was okay with what Alvarez was doing to you?” David’s tone was low.
She wiped away a tear that fell down her cheek. Did she dare tell him more? She gave a small shrug. “I guess. He joined in about a year later.” She shuddered at the remembrance of the party Rafael threw for her dad’s birthday. She hadn’t seen everything, but she’d heard it. Then Rafael had brought her dad, drunk and high, into where Rafael had her waiting, drugged up and ready for him. Rafael had called her Joe’s “special birthday present.”
David stood and walked to the window to look outside. His feet were spread and hands were clasped behind his back, fisting and relaxing.
Had she made things worse by telling him what happened? “Do you... Do you want me to leave?”
He didn’t answer and she hung her head, tears falling down her cheeks. She shouldn’t have told him. Why had she told him? What good had it done?
“How long have you been at the Café?
“About three years.”
“Did you start working there of your own volition?”
She hesitated and he turned around. She searched his face but saw no anger. Only sadness and sympathy. “Geoffrey found me on the streets. I was really, really messed up. I... I work there because I’d probably be dead if he hadn’t.”
“How did you end up on the streets?”
