Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(4)

“Oh my God, you won’t believe what my dad’s latest get-rich-quick scheme is.” Her dad was a legend in their neighborhood for being the greatest guy with a million plans, none of which ever panned out. She loved the man almost as much as she hated seeing him go off on another quixotic adventure to line his pockets. Growing up as Jasper Ambrose’s daughter would have been amazing if it hadn’t been for the fact that their rent money always seemed to disappear in a multilevel marketing scheme, or drinks for all at the neighborhood pub when his pony came in first, or training for a job that was going to be huge in the future like becoming a pig whisperer. “He’s decided that he’s going to be a character actor. The fact that he has no experience? A minor molehill. The real problem is that he needs to get on TV to earn his Screen Actors Guild card, and—get this—he wants me to do this online dating reality TV thing where parents pick out their kid’s date and then offer advice about finding true love. Can you imagine? I need another shot.”

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“More tequila?” She poured them both a half shot. “I agree.”

“No, the dating thing,” Gemma said. “You should totally do it.”

Zara snort-giggled. “Not gonna happen.”

“This is a total win-win here.” Gemma tossed back her shot. “Your dad will get his SAG card, and you’ll get to go out on five fabulous dates with a somewhat normal human being.”

“We both know I don’t have that kind of luck. He’d probably be some distracted dreamer just like my dad.” She took her shot, the tequila burning its way down to her belly. “Hard pass.”

“I can get you in the same room with Helene Carlyle.” Gemma did a little shimmy dance move across the living room with Anchovy, obviously thinking this was a fun new game, following close behind with an oversize tennis ball in his mouth. “I have tickets to the Harbor City Friends of the Library charity gala, and you can be my plus-one, but only if you agree your dating life needs help and do your dad a solid.”

And then, the next thing Zara knew, Gemma had her phone and was downloading the Bramble dating app. When she tried to grab her phone back, her friend easily held it out of reach. That was the problem with being barely five feet tall and being besties with an Amazon.

“Gimme my phone,” she said, stretching up and reaching for it. “I don’t want to date. Anyone. Ever. I like being in full and complete control of my life.”

Gemma held the phone high and shot her a questioning look, the tequila-induced haze in her eyes giving her a comical look. “Don’t you want to meet someone like Hank and fall in love?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“What do you want, then?”

She didn’t even have to think about it. “To have Helene Carlyle fall in love with my work.”

In addition to being one of the richest women in Harbor City, Helene Carlyle was also the metro area’s biggest collector of miniatures. If she signed off on someone’s work, then the entire art world paid attention. And that meant showings in galleries and private commissions. That, in turn, meant she would be able to create her art, which she knew full well wasn’t paying the bills as opposed to creating the commercial miniatures that she sold in her Etsy shop which is what kept a roof over her head now, and use the resulting cash to turn her single Etsy shop into a miniatures-making empire. If everything went according to plan—and she’d make damn sure it would—then she could finally put to bed the nagging worry that it was only a matter of time before she’d miss a payment and the debt collectors would be at her door.

“Zara, I love you, but you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you don’t allow yourself to have a little fun every once in a while.” Gemma sat down beside her, put the phone on the coffee table, and draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m seriously worried about you.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like. If you grew up the way I did, you’d be all about work, too.”

To make sure the lights stayed on. To guarantee eviction notices didn’t appear on the door. To not open the fridge and find only a few ketchup packets. Jasper Ambrose might have been the life of the party and the entire neighborhood’s favorite charming dreamer with a million ideas for how to make a billion, but that hadn’t made living with him any easier. She loved him—everyone did—but she couldn’t shake that feeling even now that the debt collectors would come knocking at any moment and she’d lose everything.

“I know your dad pulled a number on you. I was there to watch a lot of it,” Gemma said, her voice wavering with emotion and probably tequila. “However, you can’t let your past rule your future. You’re an amazing person, and no, you don’t need a man to complete you, but you also can’t look to work to be the only thing that defines you.” She shifted on the couch, turning Zara’s shoulders so she had to look her friend straight in the eyes. “You, Zara Ambrose, are so much more than teeny tiny alligators—even if they’re the best teeny tiny alligators in the whole wide world. Go out there, meet people, maybe get laid for the first time in forever, and let yourself have fun for once. It doesn’t have to be for the rest of eternity, just five dates.”

Tomorrow she’d probably be blaming the tequila, but at this moment, Gemma’s outrageous plan made sense. “You’re killing me, Smalls.”