Time and Time Again (Maybe #2.5)(19)

“And I’m still taking you to work.”

“Tag!”

“What?” he says, trying to look innocent. “These are the rules.”

“If you’re still picking me up and I’m staying here weekends, I may as well not leave at all,” I say, hands on my hips.

“Exactly,” he says, looking smug. “Just stay here. What are you scared of?”

That when this was over I am going to be left high and dry? How do I explain that to him without offending him?

“Nothing,” I reply. “We better get to work or we’re going to be late.”

He nods slowly. “I want you to be happy, Clara.”

I smile.

I want that too, with him.

*****

I was having a shit night.

The worst.

From my side of the bar, I could see Tag talking to a woman, a woman who was sticking her chest out, her watermelon-sized breasts in his face. Okay, so I was exaggerating slightly, but still. He wasn’t flirting with her or anything, but he was talking to her.

I was jealous.

I didn’t like it.

Sighing, I slide the man his drink and wait for my next customer. After everyone is served, I decide to get some fresh air and head outside to take the trash out. I throw it in the bin, taking my time walking back, something which turns out to be a huge mistake.

“Clara?”

I turn around in shock hearing my father’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking him in. He still looked the same—handsome, with brown hair and pale blue eyes. My dad was a man who would always be good looking.

“I wanted to see you. I had to,” he says, searching my features.

“How did you find me?”

“You mentioned to your mum you were working at a bar,” he says, shrugging. “This is the tenth bar I checked. I’ve been asking around.”

“Okay, well, you’ve seen me. I’m here, and as you can see, I’m fine. So you can go now.”

“How long are you going to keep punishing yourself for what I did?” he asks.

I turn to face him. “What?”

“You got the top scores in your class. You could have been in the best university right now, studying to be anything you wanted. Instead, you’re here, working in a bar because you hate me more than you care about your future.”

I grit my teeth.

He continues. “You know I saved money for your education. You don’t even have to be working right now.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” I say, my voice hitching. I turn my back on him and walk back inside, back to the bar. When I see him walk into the bar a few seconds later, I curse under my breath. So much for me hoping he would leave. I glance at Tag who is still talking to that woman, then back to my dad. He walks up to the bar, standing right in front of me. His eyes to go where mine just were, to Tag.

“That your boyfriend?” he asks, looking interested. “Looks like it’s true—daughters do find a man just like their fathers.”

Oh my god.

I can’t believe he just said that.

That f*cker.

“So what, he’s talking to a woman and that means he must have a mistress and more kids that no one knows about? Not everyone is as much of a dirty bastard as you.”

He flinches. “The girls ask about you.”

Pain blooms in my stomach.

My half-sisters.

I’d never met them, yet they were somehow a part of me.

I harden my heart.

“Tell them I’m dead,” I reply without emotion. “Because that’s what I am to you.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “The issues I had with your mother have nothing to do with how I feel for you.”

Except they impact me on every level. He wasn’t the man I thought he was, the one I used to look up to. He was selfish. He wasn’t a good man. He was good at pretending. He was fake. He broke my f*cking heart long before it should have been broken.

“If you ever loved me, please, just leave.”

“Clara, are you okay?” Tag asks, putting his hands on my waist. “Who the f*ck are you?”

“I’m her father,” my dad replies stiffly. “Nice to see you’re done paying attention to other women and now focusing on my daughter.”

Tag goes still behind me. “I was talking to my daughter’s teacher. No other woman means shit to me besides Clara. You don’t know me. I, however, have heard more than enough about you. You’re upsetting her. If she wants to contact you, she will.”

He looks to me. “Do you want him gone, Sweetheart? Or do you want to talk to him?”

“Gone,” I reply with ease.

“You heard her,” Tag says, voice laced with steel.

My father puts his card on the table. “Call me, Clara. We need to talk. Alone.”

“Three seconds before I call security,” Tag growls.

My father leaves.

I lean against Tag, my eyes starting to water.

Why did he have to come here?

I just wanted him to leave me alone.

“That was Mrs. Yale, Bella’s teacher. I didn’t mean to ignore you, Clara. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“She has big boobs,” I sniff.