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“Fashion is my second home.” He rubs the back of my neck. “William told me you came to Atlas’s penthouse late at night.” He arches his right brow. “What’s going on with him and you?”
I angle my head to the side. “Why?”
“You’re my daughter, Lake. I need to know who you are dating.”
“I’m his executive assistant, and we’re not dating. We’re probably not even friends after what I did to him.”
Honestly, I don’t know if we’re friends, but I’m going to speak to him and show him how sorry I am. I know I can’t take back my words, but I can do something to make up for my shitty behavior. I’ve never seen Atlas so mad at me, but I did say things to hurt his feelings. I wasn’t thinking, and I was wrong. He didn’t deserve my anger. He is right, I do treat him badly. He didn’t allow me to explain to him why I left him in a hurry. It doesn’t matter. We’re not going to sleep with each other, and he wants to keep it professional now. He’s giving me what I want, so why am I so bothered by it? Why do I want him now? My emotions don’t make any sense.
“What did you do?”
I never share anything with my father about my love life. Growing up, my father had a strict rule about me dating until Carter came along, and he became lenient. I suspect only because his family is wealthy and he saw how Carter could provide for me.
I don’t want to tell my father what really happened because it will be weird.
“I hurt his feelings.”
He ruffles my hair. “You do become mean and sassy when you’re feeling hurt. You need to have better control of your reactions.”
“I’m working on it.” I smack his hand away. “I want to be his friend, but he doesn’t want to be my friend.”
“Jesus, what did you say to him?” my father asks.
“You don’t want to know.”
“You want to hear it from a man’s perspective?”
I nod.
“Atlas likes you, and I suspect he liked you for a long time.” He drinks his beer. “Atlas only agreed to be your friend because he’s hoping for you two to be more than friends. And you’re not giving him what he wants, so he’s leaving you alone.”
“He told me I’m the only woman he allows to treat him like shit.”
“Whoa.” He stares at me for far too long, and his eyes grow glossy.
“What?”
He rubs the back of his neck again. “I said those exact same words to your mother when we were dating.”
“You did?”
An old nineties rap song comes on, and the crowd becomes rowdy as they sing along.
“Your mother was a stubborn woman, like you. She did anything to avoid me, I had to chase her. Really worked hard for her. She canceled dates out of the blue and didn’t want people to know about us. When we broke up for four months, I dated someone else, and she split her wig. That’s when she cried and told me she loved me.” He folds his arms across his shoulders. “I dumped the other woman for your mother.” He crinkles his nose. “Apologize to Atlas, and give him some time to cool off, he’ll come around eventually.” His phone rings, and he answers.
“I’m on my way.” He taps the screen before placing the phone in his pocket.
“It’s Nicole. I have to meet with her family for dinner. Love you, Firefly.”
“Love you, too.”
After I leave the restaurant, I ride back home, I whip out my phone, and my fingers hover of the message icon. What should I say to Atlas? I’ll start with the basics—honesty.
Me: I’m sorry.
Several moments later, he reads my message. Atlas loves bourbon, so I tell the driver to take me to an upscale liquor store. Inside, I grab seven hundred dollars’ worth of liquor.
Me: Are you home?
