“Dad,” I call out to him as he takes another step, this time to leave the room. He stops and turns around to look at me. “I’m sorry. I love you.” My words have him pivoting to look at me.
His chest rises and falls. His serious face softens. “I’m sorry, too, sweetheart.” Then he’s hugging me. “I’m so sorry I got cross.”
“It’s okay, I understand.”
“No, you don’t. You didn’t deserve it. I am proud of you every day. I’m so damn proud. I remember the girl you were, and I just—” A tear leaks from his eye. “I just wanted to give you everything.”
“You did.” My own eyes mist.
“I tried. I tried the best I could.”
“Dad, there was nothing I ever wanted for,” I tell him, and one lone drop of water trails down my cheek.
“You were and are my world, Skye.”
I pull back and look at him. My lips spread into a large, genuine smile. A playful one. “No other father would do half the stuff you did for me.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“I remember you taking me every day to the mall once it opened,” I remind him.
“You liked to shop.” He shrugs.
“But you couldn’t afford it.”
His cheeks redden. “I made do.”
“And then there were all the movies I dragged you to.”
His hand bats the air. “That was nothing.”
“And every day, you made me toast with strawberry jam because you knew I loved it.” At my words, his arms encircle me, one hand in the small of my back, the other rubbing comforting circles.
“You did love that.” He leans down and places a kiss on the top of my head. Like he used to when I was a little girl. When I needed him to make me feel safe.
“I did. I still do.” I hold my father tighter. I don’t know why he won’t tell me the truth about what he’s going through, and I don’t know if he ever will. But at this moment, protected in his arms, it doesn’t matter. Time isn’t something we have much of. We could have months, or we could have weeks. I refuse to waste the moments we have.
It’s been three days since I have seen my father, and the way he looked and talked still haunts my mind. I wish I would come out and ask him point-blank about everything, but truth be told, I’m scared. As much as I need to know from him that he’s dying, I’m petrified for him to confirm it.
I’m not usually this timid. Hell, I’m about to throw myself into the lion’s den tonight. But with my father, I will always be the lost little six-year-old who needed a home.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I stare at my reflection. My long black gown looks modest from the front. It’s the back that will stun, dipping lower than the small of my back.
Like Tobias, I have one goal, and tonight is when I set it in motion. It’s finally here. Tonight is the gala with Felix.
I’m not at all prepared. The first thing I want to do is ask him questions, but I don’t feel like he will answer any of them, not unless his guard is down. Maybe I can get him drunk.
The next thing is I need access to his computer. Not just his files. No, I need access to his apartment, which is risky, but seeing how he stares at me makes it even more so.
I won’t get access tonight, but if I play my cards right, it could be soon. With my lipstick in hand, I pace the foyer of my apartment, waiting for him to buzz that he’s here. I don’t like that he knows where I live, but it’s a necessary evil. I’m starting to fidget when the buzzer goes off.
It’s him.
It’s time.
The only time I have been with Felix before tonight has been at the office or court, so I’m not sure what security he has. That’s another reason I’m going out with him, to size up whether there is even a shot in hell that I’ll be able to find out anything this way. There is also the chance that I’ll need to come up with yet another plan.
I head down the stairs, and I’m not surprised to find one of Felix’s men standing there by the door.
He wouldn’t get out to greet me.
What I have realized by working with him this year, and most recently, the work I have done with Tobias, is men like this are never alone. Even when you think they are, someone is there watching. I wonder if that will change now that Tobias has retired? Or if, in fact, it won’t change until he does whatever else his ominous warning means.
I follow Felix’s man to the car, and after he opens the door for me, I step inside and take a seat beside him.
“Don’t you look gorgeous tonight,” Felix coos as he traces my body with his creepy eyes. I’m happy my front is covered because this man gives me the serious creeps.
It’s not often I feel like this—unsafe—but I do. This is not something I feel around Tobias. He might also undress me with his eyes, yet it doesn’t feel like this.
It’s not that Felix is ugly. He’s older than me, probably by at least twenty-five years, and he’s obviously aging well and in amazing shape, but something in his eyes is off. A disconnect. He looks like the type of man who would kill innocent bystanders simply because he doesn’t like how they stand.
“Thank you.” I try my best to smile and appear unaffected. But the faster I get to the gala and the faster I get home, the better.
There is a sinking feeling inside my gut that I’m being set up as bait or as payment by my boss to this man, and I don’t like it at all.
Luckily, the gala is held relatively close to my apartment, and we pull up after only a few minutes. I’m also lucky Felix didn’t try to make small talk. Although I’m supposed to make him feel comfortable, I realize I’ll have to devise another plan. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to access his apartment unless I spread my legs for him.
Not something I’m willing to do.
When the car rolls to a stop, I wait for his security team to clear the area and then open the door for us. When I step out, I realize the problem with my dress. Felix didn’t see the back when I stepped into the car, but now that I’m exiting, my back is on full display. Standing on the sidewalk, I feel the error of my ways.
His hand rests on the small of my back, but it’s his fingers that bother me. With a flared hand, his thumb is rubbing circles on my skin. And with every step I take, it gets lower and lower, until when we walk inside and stop, his finger touches the top of my ass.
I step away from him, breaking the connection. He’s not having it, though. He steps up to me, his smile cocked, and in challenge, he offers me his arm instead. He dares me to object with his eyes. I hate this man.
Now on his arm, he introduces me to everyone. I’m his arm candy for the night. Not once does he introduce me as his lawyer or reference the firm I work for. To anyone looking, they must think I’m the younger woman he’s sleeping with and worse, by his age, power, and business connections, must assume I’m using him. It’s degrading.
And he is one hundred percent playing it off.
“And who is this divine creature?” I hear from behind me. Yet again, I am introduced to a middle-aged man I have no interest in speaking to.
We make a few turns around the room. On the next pass, Felix has an objective. We are headed toward a crowd forming around a man.