The Summer Getaway: A Novel(102)

“When are you coming back to work?” her father asked again. “Or do you plan to keep pouting?”

She looked at him. “Pouting? Really?”

“Fine. Not that. Come on, Harlow, it’s summer. I could really use you. Tell me what it’s going to take. You want a raise? A different title?”

She didn’t want either. She wanted to be respected as a good captain who knew her job. She wanted to learn the business and earn her way into running it. But that wasn’t likely—not right now. She was too young, she was his daughter, and he had way too much going on.

“What are you going to do about Zafina?” she asked, mostly to distract him.

“I have no idea.” He groaned. “Why did she have to get pregnant?”

“Probably because you had sex with her. Ejaculation does that, Dad.”

“Very funny. I’m too old to be a father again. I don’t want to go through all the baby stuff.” He grimaced. “Diapers, midnight feedings.”

She laughed. “Because you did any of that when Austin and I were little? I don’t think so.”

“I was a good dad.” His tone was defensive. “I helped.”

Helped. Not partnered, but helped.

“What if she wants to get married?” he asked, sitting up again. “I can’t do it. I don’t want a second family, and I was never going to marry her.”

Harlow stared at him. “Then what were you doing? You’re dating my fiancé’s twin sister, and it was just about getting laid. That’s gross, Dad, even for you. If you’re going to act like that, at last keep it out of the family.”

“She came on to me. It’s not my fault.”

“It never is,” she said quietly. She stood and picked up the basket. She had enough for a couple of pies with leftovers for breakfast. “I need to get these inside.”

Her father scrambled to his feet. “So you’re coming back to work soon?”

“I’ll be home in a week or so. We’ll talk then.”

She was putting off the inevitable, but knew there was no point in having the conversation now. Not when they were living in the same house and she had no way to escape him. And not when she was so disappointed by seeing her father for the man he was and not who she had always expected him to be.



* * *



Mason finished dressing and headed for the kitchen. One of the disadvantages of his early-morning run was leaving Robyn alone in his bed. She was never still there when he got back. Of course, the two mornings a week he didn’t run were pretty damned incredible, so there was that.

He was still smiling at the images of how they started their days when he didn’t have PT as he entered the kitchen. Robyn was frying bacon and sausages. Harlow and Austin were helping their mother. Austin carried dishes into the breakfast room while Harlow cracked eggs into a bowl. Their conversation was easy, their body language relaxed. They were a team, and he liked that.

Harlow grinned when she saw him.

“Ack! Now I have guilt. You went running, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Alone.” He said the word pointedly. “Where were you two?”

“I got lazy,” Harlow admitted. “Sorry.”

“No excuse, sir,” Austin added with a laugh. “I slept through my alarm.”

“Enjoy that while you can.” Mason stepped into the kitchen. “Put me to work.”

Harlow pointed to a bowl of oranges. “Make juice, please.”

He did as she requested, cutting the oranges in half, then using the manual juicer to fill the pitcher. Robyn smiled at him from the stove, her gaze warm and affectionate.

He liked feeling as though he was a part of their small family. He appreciated that they accepted and welcomed him. The thing he’d regretted most from both his divorces was losing the connection and sense of belonging. His parents had died years ago and he had no siblings. Roots were important to him, and seeing as he didn’t have any of his own, he was open to being grafted in somewhere.

At least he had Lillian, he thought with contentment. She’d made him feel as if he’d known her forever. His only regret was waiting too long to take her up on her offer to meet. He should have visited her years ago.

“What’s the plan for today?” he asked, mostly to distract himself. What-ifs were a waste.

“I have a job interview,” Austin said. “Just part-time, with a charter company.”

“Good for you,” Robyn told him. “I hope you get it.”

“Me, too. It’s not a lot of hours, but I think I’d like it. I’m also going to see about busing tables.”

Mason knew the kid had just inherited a shitload of money. He could easily spend the next year sitting on his ass, but Austin expected more of himself.

“I’m going to be exploring the exciting world of sheet music,” Robyn said. “I have a phone call with someone in New York later this morning. I found several handwritten scores. I’m assuming they’re copies of original works, but I have no idea how to tell or where to start. A very nice woman is going to give me a crash course.”

Harlow began to whip the eggs. “I think I’m going to—” She frowned as Salvia hurried into the kitchen.

Lillian’s companion’s face was pale, her hands twisted together. Everyone stared at her.