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“It’s not you, it’s me.” I roll my eyes at myself. Lame. It’s actually because I find you utterly boring.
“Let’s have dinner,” she suggests, clutching at straws.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
Jesus, is she not hearing me? “I’m not in the right place at the moment for any kind of relationship. I just don’t have time.”
“But we’re so good together.”
I close my eyes, realizing that I’m not going to get off the phone anytime soon at this rate. So it’s time to pull out the usual, trusty spiel. “Maybe if I’d met you at another point in my life, things would have worked out. You’re a great woman, really. I just don’t think I can give you what you need.” A Tiffany ring, to be precise. “Take care, Amanda.” I hang up on a cringe and silence my phone, knowing I’ll be getting a few more calls. I just broke up with a woman who I wasn’t even with. Good God.
I abandon the rest of my emails, collect my stuff, more than ready for that drink, and trudge out of my office. As I’m approaching my car, my mobile rings, and I glance at the screen, ready to reject the call. But when I see an international number, I get excited, scrambling to answer. “Hello?”
“Daddy.” Tia’s squeal nearly deafens me, but, God, it’s so good to hear her voice.
“Hey, baby.” I aim my fob at my car and unlock it. “How are you?”
“Great. I’m at the airport hopping on a plane to Cambodia.”
My feet grind to a halt, and I mentally run through her itinerary, which I know off by heart. “Cambodia?” I question. Cambodia isn’t on her itinerary. “You’re supposed to be heading to New Zealand.”
“Slight change of plan.”
“Slight? Like six-thousand miles slight?”
She sighs down the line. “You’re not going to have a meltdown like Mum, are you?”
I pull my car door open and fall into my seat. “No.” I mean it. Janet is about as melodramatic as a mother could be. And as a female could be, for that matter. “Just curious why the plans have changed.”
“Well, I met a new friend, and he’s heading to New Zealand after he’s done Cambodia, so I thought why not?”
I heard only one word there. “He?”
“Yes, he,” she says slowly, knowingly. “Trent.”
“Trent? What is he, a river?”
“Stop it, Dad.” Tia laughs. “He’s American.”
I snarl at my steering wheel. “But he lives in London, right?”
“No, he lives in Arizona.”
“Which is in London, right?” I don’t like this. Not one little bit.
“Is this the meltdown you’re not going to have?”
“Yes.” So she’s changed her plans? My girl, my fiercely independent girl, has changed her plans, and not only changed them, but she’s changed them for a boy?
“He’s twenty-nine.”
“What?” I gasp. “Did you have six birthdays and not tell me?”
She groans now, all out of sighs, totally exasperated. “Come on, Dad. You’ll love him.”
“What do you mean, I’ll love him? I’m never going to meet him.” This is getting worse by the minute. “Am I?”
“Well if I love him, you have to love him, right?”
I stare ahead at the brick wall through the windscreen of my car. She’s done it. She’s done what I told her not to do, and she’s only gone and bloody done it with some twat named after a river and who lives in fucking America. America! “You love him,” I mumble despondently. “Does your mother know?”
“God, no.”
“But she knows you’re heading for Cambodia?”
“Yes, with some girlfriends I met. Jesus, Dad, you’re the chilled one of the two of you, and look how you’re reacting.”
I sag in my seat, running a hand through my hair. “Just make sure you come home, baby, yeah?” Fucking hell, this is the worst news ever.
“Of course I’ll come home. Listen, Dad, I’ve spent my last few hundred quid on this diversion. Could you transfer some money into my account?”
Usually, my answer would be a straight yes, of course I will, but tonight I’m feeling annoyed that she’s gone right ahead and done this without checking in with me, since it’s wiped her clean out of cash. “Tia, what happened to managing your money?”
“But—”
“No buts. You had a flight scheduled and paid for, and changed it without even considering the costs, because good old Dad will cough up. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know. There are people in the world scraping through, barely surviving, and you’re squandering cash on unnecessary flights, spending money like it’s going out of fashion.”
“Jesus, what’s crawled up your arse?”
“Nothing,” I snap.
There’s silence, and I picture Tia in my mind’s eye gawking at the phone in shock. I never raise my voice. Not ever, especially not at her. “Okay,” she squeaks. “I’m sorry, I should have checked with you.”
I slam my head against the headrest, squeezing my eyes shut. “Crap,” I breathe.
