The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(113)

Right, just keep the conversation off me. “How long have you owned the farm?” I ask.

“We’re third generation on this land,” Harvey says. “Soon to be fourth.” He winks at Hayden.

Hayden smiles over at her father, and my stomach twists.

Fuck.

It’s like a cult.

“Where do you live, Christopher?” Harvey asks.

He called me Christopher. I chalk up a small victory. “I live . . .” I pause. Oh shit, how do I answer this? “I live between New York and London.”

Harvey frowns. His eyes flick to meet Valerie’s.

“Christopher’s family is very successful,” Hayden says.

“Like how?” Harvey replies dryly.

“You know the big company Miles Media?” she replies.

“Nope.”

“The one that makes the newspapers?”

“What about it?” he replies.

“That’s Christopher’s family business.”

His eyes meet mine. “So . . . you’re a pen pusher?”

I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Don’t piss me off, old man.

“I work in advertising for a successful company, and I don’t appreciate your lack of respect, Mr. Whitmore.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face as his eyes hold mine.

“I use a computer, not a pen. Wrong decade,” I mutter as I take a bite of food off my fork.

Harvey chuckles, clearly amused with himself at my expense.

Fucker.

Hayden taps my thigh under the table in a subtle calm down signal.

“So . . . how do you think this”—he gestures to the air between us—“will last with you two living in different countries?”

I stay silent and glance over to Hayden. I raise my eyebrow.

Tell him. Tell him now.

“Well . . . I have some news.” Hayden pauses. “I’m moving to London to live with Christopher.”

The clang of knives and forks hitting the plates sounds through the room.

Valerie gasps.

I begin to perspire. Fuck me dead.

Harvey’s cold eyes hold mine, and he chews the food in his mouth as he processes the information.

“It will be a . . . new adventure,” Hayden says as she looks between them nervously.

“Where do you live in London?” Harvey directs the conversation at me.

“I have an apartment in the city.”

“An apartment?” He frowns. “You really expect Hayden to live in a box with no fresh air in the middle of the city?”

“Dad,” Hayden whispers.

He holds his hand up to her in a stop sign. “Now, baby girl, you need to think about this long and good. There are no cows in the middle of London, Hayden.”

Hayden stays silent.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit,” Harvey says.

“It’s a trial.”

“A trial?” Harvey explodes.

“For Hayden,” I correct myself. “If she doesn’t like city living . . . then . . .” I shrug.

“Then what?” he snaps.

“I don’t know, but please know, Mr. Whitmore, I love Hayden,” I announce. “I would never trade her happiness for mine.”

Hayden takes my hand as it sits on my lap.

“And I am going to marry her one day. With or without your permission.”

He narrows his eyes as he glares at me.

“If Hayden doesn’t like living in London, I would never keep her there against her will.”

“And if she wants to live here?”

“Then I will.” I shrug.

“What’s the fucking shrug mean?” he barks. “A shrug isn’t enough to bank my daughter’s entire future on.”

“It means . . . I will understand,” I snap.

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.” Hayden smiles over at me.

I lean over and kiss her. “Me too, baby.”

“Give me a break,” Harvey snaps. He throws his napkin on the table in disgust and storms from the room.

“You not going to eat this?” Valerie asks him.

“I just lost my appetite,” he calls. We hear him march up the hall, and the bedroom door slams.

Hayden exhales, and her mother sits still, seemingly in shock.

“I love him, Mom,” she whispers.

“I know.” Valerie smiles sadly.

“I just have to—”

Valerie cuts her off. “I know.”

The cat walks in and lies on the floor, all cute-like, as if purposely trying to distract us, and I roll my eyes.

Where were you ten minutes ago, stupid cat?

You’re fucking late, Bryan.



Two hours later we lie in bed watching television. Hayden is quiet and has hardly said two words since her dad stormed off.

My hand is on her hip as she lies on her side facing away from me.

“He’ll come around,” I say. “Once he gets to know me, I’m sure—”

She cuts me off. “I know.”

But in all honesty, I really don’t know if he will.

We couldn’t be more different.

Hayden switches off her bedside lamp. “Good night,” she says.