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I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Of course, of course, but my dear—may I ask how old you are?”
“A lady never tells,” Amelia says. The sweetness is slowly evaporating from her voice.
My dad holds up his hands in faux surrender. “I don’t mean to be rude. I just want to make sure you understand the world you’re signing up for. Men like Cole and me, we work long hours. He won’t have much time to spend with you, let alone hear about and pay attention to what’s going on inyourlife.”
Amelia doesn’t say anything.
My dad continues. “And he’s constantly under the public microscope—which means you will be too. If you want to start a family, forget it—he won’t be ready to have another kid for years, if ever. You’ll always come second to his own ambition.” He raises his martini in a mock toast to Amelia.
I reach for my own drink, needing something to do. Clearly my dad’s decided if he can’t dissuade me from marrying Amelia, he can dissuade her from marrying me. I was prepared for false attacks.
But the things he’s saying now?
They’re true.
They’re part of the reason Bridget left me.
And it shouldn’t matter, not really. Amelia and I aren’t getting married, so it doesn’t matter if my dad convinces her I’d be a bad husband. It won’t make her break our deal.
I shouldn’t matter, but it does. Because there’s a part of me that doesn’t want Amelia to know the truth—that she’d be miserable with me. I saw the awe and delight in her eyes as I showed her my home.
When this is all over, that’s how I want her to think of me. Like a fun vacation that couldn’t last.
My dad’s showing her the truth. In real life, I’d be a prison sentence she couldn’t wait to escape.
This is why I don’t do long term relationships. This is why I don’t date women like Amelia. I’ve made my peace with who I am. I like my life. I love my kid, my work. Hell, I even like the easy, genuine friendship I’ve finally arrived at with Bridget and her new husband.
The Disney fairy-tale ending isn’t for everyone. Some of us like our lives a little messier.
The problem with women like Amelia is that they remind you that the fairy-tale ending exists, and they’re going to get it one day. Just with some other lucky bastard who isn’t you.
Beside me, Amelia moves her hand onto my thigh and gives a gentle, supporting rub.
It shocks me out of my thoughts. Partly because it feels good, and she’s gorgeous enough, that if she keeps touching me like that, I’m going to need to do some strategic napkin placement to stay decent.
But it’s also confusing because it’s a gesture my dad can’t see. Like when she reached for my hand under the table before.
Either Amelia’s gettingdeepinto her role. Or she’s doing this because she can tell I’m wound up and wants to make me feel better.
I don’t know what to do with that information.
My dad’s still talking. “And that’s before you even account for—”
“Howard,” Amelia says. “Shut up.”
Anger flares across my dad’s face. “Howdareyou—”
“You’re skeptical of me, I get that,” Amelia continues. “You want to make sure that whoever Cole lets into his life is worthy of him. But pretending that Cole won’t make an amazing husband isdumb.”
My dad blinks. “Are you calling me dumb?”
But Amelia’s on a roll. “Let’s set aside the fact that Cole is gorgeous, wealthy, and successful enough to have people all over social media fantasizing about just the prospect of a date with him. Because you’re right, that’s surface stuff. Let’s talk abouthim.”
Uh oh. This can’t be good. I peek at her wine glass to see how much alcohol she’s had. But she’s barely touched it. Amelia’s completely sober.
“He’s a good boss. Do you know how rare that is, to be able to challenge the people who work under you, inspire them, and earn their respect? Do you know what an amazing dad he is to Kiera? Hell,his ex-wife likes him.I’m going to go out on a limb and imagine yours can’t say the same for you.”
