But suddenly there he was, standing on her front porch, glancing at the landscaping under the picture window with a look of disgust as he pushed the doorbell repeatedly.
Libby’s stomach tumbled with nerves and she swallowed her nausea as she opened the door, prepared for him to swoop her into his arms and shower her with love.
He eyed her up and down dismissively before looking over her shoulder into the living room. “Is Gabriella here?”
Libby stuffed down her disappointment. He hadn’t seen her since she was a tiny baby. How would he know her now? She held on to the doorknob and twisted it nervously. “She’s at work.”
“Oh.” He took a step back as if to leave.
He couldn’t leave! He’d just shown up! She scrambled to come up with a reason for him stay. “She’ll be home any minute if you want to come in and wait!” It was a flat-out lie. Her mother was going out with friends after work, but he didn’t have to know that.
He eyed her again, as though appraising her trustworthiness. She flashed him a warm smile and he gave a slight nod. “Well, I can wait for a few minutes.”
She backed up and opened the door wider for him to cross the threshold. “Gabriella’s done good for herself, huh?” he said walking around the room, picking up a knick-knack and examining it before setting it back in its place.
Libby shut the door. “Yeah, I guess.”
He turned to study her, his right hand twitching. “You say she’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Yeah. Can I get you something to drink?”
He hesitated.
“A beer?”
She knew she’d made the right offer when a grin spread across his face. “Yeah. Sure. Gabby still drink Miller Light?”
“Uh . . . I think she has Corona and Boulevard.”
He sat on the sofa and crossed his legs, releasing a sharp laugh. “That’s Gabby. Always thinking she’s better than where she came from.”
Libby had no idea what he was talking about, but this wasn’t going how she’d dreamed it would. “Which one?”
Annoyance filled his eyes. “Get me the Corona, kid.” Libby was on her way to the kitchen when he called after her. “You got a lime? Ain’t that how the high and mighty drink it? With a lime?”
“Uh . . . I don’t know . . .”
He rolled his eyes. “You ain’t too bright, are you? Never mind.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Just get me the damn beer.”
She stumbled into the kitchen, resisting the urge to cry. Why hadn’t he told her he loved her? That he missed her and wanted to make up for lost time? She considered calling Megan, who lived closer than Blair. If her friend hopped on her bike, she’d get there in five minutes. But Libby looked at the clock on the microwave and realized that Megan was at a piano lesson and Blair was shopping with her mother. Libby could have called Gabriella—her mother made her use her first name so men wouldn’t think she was her kid—but she would be furious to hear Libby had let a stranger in the door. But he wasn’t a stranger! He was her father!
“Hey, kid! Where’s the beer? You get lost in the fridge?” He chuckled at his cleverness.
Libby pulled herself together and pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, popped the top open and walked into the living room.
He was still on the sofa, his arm draped over the back. When she walked into the room, his expression changed. His hard, dark eyes softened and he licked his bottom lower lip.
She stopped in the doorway and took a moment to study him. There was no doubt he looked older than his picture, but it had been twelve years. He was thinner, and his face was covered with salt and pepper stubble. His jeans were filthy and his T-shirt was stained. He’d worn holes into the elbows of his black leather jacket as well as his white athletic shoes.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twelve.” She waited for him to connect the dots.
His eyes blinked wide. “Twelve. You look like you’re fifteen.”
She didn’t answer. She was used to her mother’s friends assuming the same thing.
“You’re a pretty thing.”
She was used to hearing that too. She shared her mother’s thick, dark, wavy hair and olive complexion, and was already showing the promise of her mother’s figure. She’d been the first girl in her class to need a bra.
“You gonna stand there all day or bring me that beer?” He grinned, but the leer on his face reminded her of her mother’s boyfriends. The ones she avoided.
Tears stung her eyes again, but she blinked them back as she took a few hesitant steps toward him, holding the bottle out.
He reached for it, but wrapped his hand around her wrist instead. “Didn’t get one for yourself?” The smile that spread across his face wasn’t friendly.
She jerked back out of instinct and the liquid in the bottle sloshed onto both their hands.
He let go of her like she was dirty. “Now look what you did, you stupid bitch.” He jerked his hand back, and for a moment she thought he was going to backhand her, but then he dropped it.
Libby took several steps back, still holding the bottle in her hand, prepared to use it as a weapon if need be.
He licked the beer off his hand and leered at her. “Why don’t you come sit by me.”
This man might be her father, but she wasn’t stupid. “I don’t think so.”
He gave her a look that said suit yourself, then glanced around the room. “Your mother keep any money in the house?”
“No.” She was pissed and she didn’t try to hide it.
He grinned. “Not even in her room? Under the mattress maybe?” He got up and made a move toward the hall, but Libby moved faster and blocked his path.
“I don’t think so.”
A sneer covered his face. “Let me teach you a few things about life, Elizabeth.”
Her breath stuck in her chest. He knew her. He knew her and yet he was still being an ass.
He laughed as if reading her thoughts. “Yeah, I knew you were Gabby’s brat.”
“I’m yours too,” she pushed out, barely audible.
He released a short bark. “By no choice of my own. I gave her the money to get an abortion, but she used it to go to Mexico for a week.”
“What?”
He towered over her. “I bet Gabby never told you that, did she?”
“No.”
“I’m not surprised. I bet there’s a lot of things she never told you.”
He was close enough for her to smell his odor of stale cigarettes and sweat. His eyes were slightly unfocused. He was high. He must have come looking for drug money.
Libby took several steps backward into the hall. “I think you should leave now.”
He laughed as he advanced on her. “Why? We’re just getting reacquainted. I bet you’ve had dreams of this day. Am I right? All kids want their parents to love them. You thought I’d show up and bring you a pony or something, huh? Just let me get the money and I’ll take you out for an ice cream cone.”
She was an idiot. Every dream she’d ever had of their reunion shriveled up and died. She narrowed her eyes and said with as much force as she could muster, “You need to leave.”
“What are you going to do, little girl? I’m not leaving until I get the money Gabby owes me.”