As I drive downtown to meet with my new boss for lunch, where I’ll finalize my contract and HR paperwork before starting my new job on Monday, I should be feeling excited. I was thrilled when they offered me the position initially. It represented my hard work paying off. While some classmates are still job-hunting, I’ve managed to secure a role right out of graduation, always the diligent student who follows the rules.
I should be feeling grateful and content with how things are progressing in my life. Instead, I’m preoccupied with thoughts of Gianni, questioning whether what happened last night was wrong, and worrying about Tatiana finding out and potentially hating me. Luciano is a distant thought now, but Tatiana's possible disapproval would be a heartbreak I might never recover from. She’s like the sister I never had. Is it worth risking that for someone as extraordinary as her father?
Incredible, attractive, and so adept at igniting my desires. Even hours after leaving his bed, I can still feel the effects of last night. I was completely at his mercy, overwhelmed by the emotions he stirred in me. In his presence, I felt warmth and joy that I hadn’t known before.
My desire for him was strong before, but knowing he feels the same way makes him nearly impossible to get out of my mind. I even hesitated to shower this morning, not wanting to lose his scent from my skin. It’s consuming me, and I can’t help but revel in it. Why didn’t I feel this way with Luciano?
That’s a pointless question. Everything was always centered around him.
I pull into an empty parking spot in the garage and let out a sigh. How can I be so happy about Gianni when everything else feels like it’s falling apart? I was already dissatisfied, and now it’s harder than ever to hide it. I have no choice but to shake off these thoughts quickly. Skipping the meeting or turning down the job would be career suicide, leaving me broke and asking my dad for a place to stay. The thought of disappointing him is unbearable.
My phone rings suddenly, startling me. I glance at the screen and see "DAD" flashing.
If I were superstitious, I’d think he could read my mind. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, especially after we lost Mom. He had a knack for being in tune with my thoughts, anticipating my needs before I even expressed them.
He lost his wife and couldn’t handle the idea of losing someone else again. My face goes hot, and my stomach drops like on the way down the first hill on a roller coaster.
He can’t know about Gianni and me. There is literally no way he knows about it. And somehow, my hackles have risen. I need to get a grip before answering, or else I’ll end up making him suspicious. I’ve never been a good liar, and he’s a detective for a reason.
At least I have an excuse to get off the phone quickly.
“Hey, Dad,” I say after accepting the call and turning on the speakerphone. “You caught me on my way in to sign the last of the paperwork at the firm.”
“Don’t let me keep you.” Pride resonates in his voice and echoes through the car. “I only wanted to check in and see how you’re doing and if you’re excited about the new job?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” And why not? I’ve spent the past four years preparing for this next step in my career.
“Your mom would be so proud of you,” he murmurs.
The man has a talent for knowing just what to say to make me feel like a complete piece of shit. Even if he doesn’t mean to or realize it.
“I hope she would be,” I whisper, closing my eyes before touching the back of my head to the seat. Of all times, the memory of being tied to Gianni’s bed pops up.
She wouldn’t be so proud if she knew about that.
“Is everything okay with you?”
Because I need to change the subject. It’s already tough enough to be the single shining star in my father’s life, feeling like there’s a spotlight on me at all times. I know I’m lucky—some people don’t have any sort of relationship with their parents, much less a loving one.
It’s just that there have been more times than I can count when his love has felt more like smothering.
“Just fine.” I can almost see him at his desk, which I’d bet anything is covered in used coffee cups from the truck down the street from the station. He lives on caffeine, especially when he’s deep in the middle of a case. That would explain how tight his voice sounds.
He’s not much better at lying than I am.
“It doesn’t sound so fine. You sound tired and stressed.”
An irritable sigh tells me I’m right. “Eh, you know how it is. Sometimes you spend weeks or months on a case and get nowhere, then something breaks, and you’re fighting to keep your head above water when all the new information comes pouring in.”
“That sounds like a good problem. It means you’re on the right track.”
“Yes. Yes, it does, and I think I am.”
“Don’t let me keep you from it,” I joke, eyeing the door leading from the garage into the building. “I’d better get moving. Can’t be late before I’ve even started the job.”
“Get in there and show them what you’re made of.”
“I’m signing papers, Dad. Not actually starting.”
“Then use good penmanship.”
I’m laughing as I end the call, and even though my stomach sank at first, I’m glad his timing worked out like it did. Before I pulled into the garage, I was feeling lower than I realized. And I don’t know why. I have everything to feel happy and hopeful about.
Even the breakup, which I now realize I didn’t confess to Dad. Great. He’s going to take it the wrong way when he finds out it took days to tell him my longtime relationship ended.
Note to self: find a new apartment ASAP. When I tell him, it’ll go easier if I already have a place to live. Less chance of him trying to move me into my old bedroom.