She rolls her eyes over to me. “You don’t need to act interested in my life, Kaia. I have plenty of my own friends and interests.”
My eyebrows rise. “Okay… I was just checking in.”
The car stops before she has time to retort. My father jumps out, opening the door for Hazel. He offers her his arm as I climb out of the other side, looking at the restaurant we are going into.
“Adolpho’s,” I read out loud. It looks fancy, with gold-plated doors and a Sicilian flag displayed out front.
“Hurry up, Kaia,” Dad says. “We don’t want to be late.”
I scrunch up my face as I scurry after them. My father pushes through the gold-plated door. As I follow him into the lush, dim interior, I’m greeted with the rather heavenly smells of pasta and red sauce.
My stomach audibly rumbles.
My father and Hazel walk right by the host, so I just follow them into the swanky dining room. There are a few tables of people sitting at black leather booths. My dad makes a beeline for what is obviously the nicest seat in the place, a big corner booth with someone already sitting in it.
I scrutinize the older man who is sitting there. Salt and pepper hair, on the short side, thin as a rail.
He looks up as my father slides into the booth across from him, his lips twisting. “Don, I thought you were going to be a no-show.”
My father smiles broadly, scooting over to make room for Hazel and me. “Sorry about that. Traffic here in the city is just the pits.”
My brows rise. It might be the first time I’ve ever heard my dad apologize; whoever this guy is, he definitely has more money or power than my dad does.
My dad waves at my sister and me as we sit down. “These are my daughters, Hazel and Kaia. Kaia is the one I was telling you about, Tony. The little ballerina.”
Tony’s shrewd gaze falls on me. He tilts his head, his gaze calculating.
“Nice to meet you. Tony Cardezzio. I’m a business associate of your father’s.”
He doesn’t move to offer his hand, so I just bob my head. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Hazel just smirks quietly, saying nothing. Tony clears his throat, looking at my father. I start getting a weird vibe; everybody at this table is acting really strangely.
I frown at the rest of the table but I don’t say anything. A waiter rushes up, his notepad at the ready.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asks.
Tony purses his lip. “I’ll tell you what. Get me and my friend here each a glass of red wine. We’ll both have a steak, medium well done, with a baked potato. These two ladies will have salads, dressing on the side.”
I blink. Unease slides through my stomach as the waiter nods and vanishes toward the kitchen. I am not sure why this stranger just ordered my food.
I would gladly rather order for myself and pay for my own food. I’m sure that mostly people would feel the same. But looking at my father, I can’t figure out why he doesn’t say a single word.
“So, Kaia,” Tony says, steeling his fingers. “You do ballet?”
I pull the crystal goblet of water towards me that the waiter drops off, bobbing my head. “Yes. I’ve done ballet for my entire life. Ever since I was old enough to lie,” I joke.
Tony nods slowly. “How tall are you?”
“Umm…” My gaze slides to my dad, who is sipping his glass of wine. “Five foot five.”
“And you’re what… a hundred pounds?”
My neck heats. I look down at the table in front of me, not understanding what is going on. “I don’t really know.”
“She’s full of shit,” Hazel says, not even bothering to look up from her phone screen. “She weighs herself every morning. Isn’t that right, Kaia?”
I kick her hard under the table. She just smirks at me.
I take a sip of water as I consider whether I should just bolt from the table. The only thing keeping my here at this point is knowing that my dad would probably chase me down and physically force me to come back.
“Would you say you have a lot of boyfriends, sweetness?” the old man says.
For a second, my brow furrows. Who is Tony talking to?
I lift my head and see that he and my dad are staring straight at me. I blink rapidly.
“Excuse me?”
My dad clears his throat. “Kaia hasn’t had time for anything other than ballet. Trust me, Tony.”
Tony shoots my father such a withering look that I can almost feel it over here. “I’m not interested in hearing your spin on things, Don. I want to hear it from the lady’s mouth.”
I glance back and forth between my dad and Tony. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question. I think maybe I should leave?”
I flush. The last word comes out as a question when I meant it to be a declaration. I start scooting out of the booth as Tony shakes his head.
“Don, control your fucking daughter. This is not going to work if she’s gonna be mouthy. The guys at the cat house want a girl that is easy to work with. Nobody likes a smart mouthed hooker.”
Cat house? Easy to work with?
Is he… is he suggesting that I… should be a prostitute? Is he considering somehow buying me from my dad?
I’m not sure what they’re talking about, but I don’t want to stick around to find out. Hazel snickers as I gain my footing and start off toward the entrance.
I put my head down and burst out the front door of the restaurant. My heart beats so loudly in my ears that all other noises are distorted, sounding far away.
I sprint down the block, not making it very far before I hear my dad’s voice behind me.
“Kaia Madeline Walker! Stop right now!”
That causes my feet to slow, even though I know I should keep going. As if I’m pulled by some force I can’t understand, I turn around.
My father is bearing down on me, his face red and his expression dismal. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Dad, that man seemed to be under the impression that I would be… a hooker.”
My dad grabs me by the arm, giving me a violent shake. “He’s just trying to make money off of you while you’re worth a fucking cent.”
I resist when he starts to pull me back toward the restaurant. “Let me go!”
“You are probably spreading your fucking legs for any man that walks by. I might as well be earning a little while you fuck every guy you see.”
A frisson of shock and anger shiver down my spine. “Dad, no! Don’t touch me.”
My dad sneers. “I wish you would say that a little more instead of whoring around town.”
I swallow. If he had any actual idea of what I got up to, I would be scared. But I think that my father is just spinning stories to suit his own narrative.
He’s done it my whole damn life.
I switch tactics. “OWW!” I scream. “You’re hurting me! Help!”
Down the block, I see a couple of police officers turn their heads. My dad sees them at the same time as I do.
His expression goes black but he lets go of my arm. My flesh is mottled around where he gripped me; I already know that it will darken with bruises soon.
“Get back in there, Kaia,” my dad says.
I shake my head. “No. No way.”