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“Uh, hey, Pop. It’s good to see you.” I flip my menu closed though I never needed it in the first place. I’ve always gotten the same thing. “How are you?”
“Fine.” He hooks a finger in one of the belt loops of his blue jeans. “You know what you want?”
My back pushes into the leather of the bench, seeking a relaxed pose although I’m anything but. “Look, Pop, I know it’s been a long time and I wanted to put the past behind us.”
He crosses his toned, well-tatted forearms across his still solid chest. “Wish I could. I’ve no idea what happened. I thought I raised you better than to disappear without so much as a goodbye or a fuck you.”
Chapter6
Oliver
My heart pangs at how, like me, Pop believes in the influence he had on me growing up. This man was critical, if notthemost important adult in my life. I may have had two upstanding parents, people I tried badly to please and make proud, but Pop raised me.
“After college, Wren and I didn’t hang out anymore. I don’t really know how we got there?—”
He cuts me off with a brusque clearing of the throat. “I don’t give a damn what was going on with my daughter.” His finger motions from him to me. “We weren’t part of that.”
Though he tries to hide it, hurt and disappointment wade in his harsh tone and pinched features. Despite all the estranged years, I still know him. I can see and feel how my negligence let him down.
“Aw, shit, Pop. I fucked up.” I blow out a breath and scrape a hand over my head. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have let whatever was going on with Wren get in the way of what we had. I just didn’t want to upset her. I’m sorry.”
I stare up at him, hoping he’ll accept my apology. I’ll tell him about Wren and that we’re together at a later date. For now, I only want to make things right with him.
He rubs his scruffy chin, staring down at me, and what I’d give to know what’s going on in his head. But I don’t get to find out when Percy sidles up to her father.
“Oliver. Twice in one day.” She rests her cheek briefly on her father’s bicep, grinning down at me. “First at Wren’s and now the Grill. Wow. It’s almost like you’re coming back into our lives.”
“Hey lovebug.” Pop plants a kiss on the crown of her head. “Wren take you to Prospect?”
“Uh-huh, and Eddie just texted. My car should be ready in a couple of hours.”
“Good. What’s this about Oliver at Wren’s?” Pop doesn’t even glance at me, only peering down at Percy.
“Wren and Oliver are together.” Like a mouse playing with her dinner, Percy smirks, tickled pink to be giving her dad the news.
His eyebrows shoot to his silver hairline. “Together?”
In unison, Percy and I say, “Yes.”
I open my mouth to explain when a blast of cold air ushers Dot Malone to my table. What the hell is she doing here?
“Oliver, sweetie, you’re here.” My ex leans down to peck my cheek, and her perfumy blonde hair smacks me in the face.
When she stands, her hand rests on my shoulder. “Pop. Percy. Hi.”
“Dot.” Percy puckers her lips after spitting her name as if she’s tasted something sour.
Pop nods, nothing more. Both silently watch, eyes flitting between my ex-fiancée and me like we’re some puzzle to solve. I anxiously search for the most tactful way to get Dot to leave without it leading to a scene.
“Honey, I was going to wait to share this until we were alone, but I simply can’t.” Dot half jumps, half skips on the spot. “I’m bursting to tell you.” Her voice climbs higher, getting louder, with each word. “Tell everyone.”
The near two dozen or so people in the Grill—it is lunchtime—all turn to face the four of us. A burgeoning, thorny knot of alarm forms in my chest and causes my heart to beat out a tune of doom. What the hell is Dot playing at?
Is this it? She’s finally ending things like I’ve been asking her to do for years? Did our run-in at the Nest finally make her see that we’re over? Or was it the news that I’m moving on with Wren?
While a public announcement wasn’t what I had in mind, I’m only grateful that this day has finally come. I don’t even care if she makes me look like a total jerk. Sure, my deceased parents would roll over in their graves—we have to keep the Winslow name as a shining example of all things good and right. It’s a small price to pay to be done with this.
“Dot, what are you?—”
