Page 29 of A Childhood Crush

“We’ll talk now,” he said in his usual demanding way.

“I don’t want to go into the family business,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you saying?” He practically spit the words at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you have any idea how much work I’ve put into building up my business? And now you’re just going to throw it all away?”

I didn’t want to get into the specifics about his business. This was really not the place. I didn’t know why he couldn’t see that, but I did. “Mom,” I begged. “Please get him out of here.”

“Don’t talk about me like that,” he snapped. “No one gets me out of anywhere.”

“Dad, please,” I said. “Please don’t do this right now. Not here.”

“I want you back at the house,” he said firmly. “You’re throwing away your entire life. I’m giving you an empire.”

“It’s not about throwing anything away,” I replied calmly. I was doing everything I could to keep the anger out of my voice. “It’s just that I have different interests, different goals. I’m not disrespecting your choices. I’m only saying your choices are not my own.”

“That’s just not good enough,” he said with his voice rising. “You’re going to work for me, and you’re going to like it. Do you understand me?”

I felt my face getting hot, my fists clenched at my sides. I couldn’t believe he was being so unreasonable. He was embarrassing me. He was making me feel like I was two inches tall. I knew people were watching. My dad had a way of attracting attention. Most people knew who he was. They made a wide berth around him.

I glanced around. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. But then I saw the back of Luke’s head and I knew exactly what I was looking for. Him. I was looking to him to save me. He was always saving me. “I can’t do that,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I want to find my own path, make my own way in the world. I like writing. I’m enjoying writing. I love writing. It’s what I want to do with my life.”

“That’s not a career,” my father scoffed. “It’s a hobby. You’ll never be able to support yourself with the pennies you earn writing fluff pieces. I’m prepared to give you a kingdom and you are throwing it away for some self-righteous nonsense. You could have everything, but you want to pretend you’re some great writer. You haven’t written anything of substance. How are you going to support yourself? Do you expect me to support you? It’s time for you to grow up and take on the responsibilities that come with being my daughter and sole heir.”

“I want to do what makes me happy,” I said. “I want to be a writer.”

“Porca puttana!”

I was used to him cursing at me in Italian. Like most people who learned a foreign language, I knew all the curse words. “Dad, please,” I hissed. “Not here. We don’t need to do this here right now. I’ll go out to the house tomorrow.”

He glared at me, and for a moment I thought he was going to explode. But then he took a deep breath, and his face smoothed out into a mask of calm control. That was when things were always worrisome. I knew my dad when he was angry. I was used to dealing with him pissed and riled up. That was kind of a default setting. He could be very, very explosive.

“Fine,” he said, his voice cold and cutting. “If that’s how you want it, then you’re on your own. Don’t expect any help from me.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, feeling small and defeated. I knew it was not going to be easy, but I was determined to make my own way, no matter what he said. I glanced around and noticed people looking. They were trying not to look, but I saw them watching. Everyone was looking at me.

I rushed toward the door, snatching a glass of champagne from a waiter as I walked out to the terrace. I didn’t need an audience just then. My father was a nightmare. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just leave me alone. Why was he insisting on torturing me? All my life my father had been my hero. I had always been daddy’s little girl. But now, I wanted to be me. I wanted to live my own life. I wanted to spread my wings and fly.

I took a deep breath and stepped outside onto the terrace, trying to clear my head after the argument with my father. The cool night air hit my face, and I couldn’t help but shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself and leaned against the railing, looking out at the city skyline in the distance.

The sound of the party behind me faded into the background as I tried to process what had just happened. My father’s words echoed in my head, and I felt a knot form in my stomach. I knew I shouldn’t let him get to me, but it was easier said than done.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to calm down. The sound of the traffic below and the faint chatter of partygoers provided a comforting background noise. As I opened my eyes, I noticed a couple sitting on a nearby bench, lost in conversation. I envied their ability to be so carefree. My dad was not interested in letting me choose my own career or boyfriend. That was another reason I was single. I knew my father would never allow me to marry just anyone. He would want to approve the match like he was a king in the medieval ages.

I was feeling sorry for myself. I was the princess trapped in a gilded cage. I didn’t really have a lot of room to complain. I reminded myself that I was at an upscale party, surrounded by successful and accomplished people. I had a lot to be proud of myself, and I couldn’t let my father’s words diminish my own accomplishments. I straightened my back and took another deep breath, feeling a sense of determination wash over me.

I knew that I would have to face my father again at some point during the night, but for now, I was content to stay outside on the terrace, surrounded by the beauty of the city and the cool night air. I had faced much bigger challenges in my life than a disagreement with my father, and I was confident that I would come out on top.

I heard the door to the terrace open and turned to see Luke step outside. I felt a pang of relief at seeing him, grateful for the familiar face.

“Hey,” he said, coming over to stand beside me. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “No, not really. My father and I just had a fight. He chose to come here and make a scene. I wouldn’t take his calls, so he did this. I’m embarrassed. He won’t just let it go.”

Luke put a comforting arm around me. I leaned into him, feeling a sense of safety and security. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

I hesitated for a moment, but then decided to confide in him. “He just doesn’t understand me. He wants me to follow in his footsteps and become, well, you know what he is. That’s not what I want for my life. I want to pursue my own dreams and passions, but he just can’t seem to accept that. He is acting like I’m a two-year-old who can’t make my own decisions. Like I’m too immature and naïve to be out in the world on my own.”

Luke nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry. That’s really tough.”

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