Empire High Betrayal(44)
He shook his head and then looked up at the sky like he was searching for an answer to his problems. But there was no solution up there for his demon daughter. He slowly exhaled and then looked over to his bodyguard. “Text Miller back. Tell him to abort.” Then he looked back down at me. “Let’s go to lunch. We’ll figure out a solution together, okay?”
I nodded.
He kissed my forehead and then ushered me into the car. “You’re sure we shouldn’t stop by Dr. Wilson’s office?”
“I’m sure.” I didn’t want to spend lunch in a doctor’s office. I wanted to spend it with him.
“Well, make sure to write about this in your journal,” he said.
“Dad.”
His eyes always softened when I called him that.
I wanted to tell him that I’d keep writing in the journal. That maybe something else was stressing me out. But it just wasn’t true. “I don’t need to write it down. I’ve only ever had a hard time breathing when Isabella threatens to kill me. I’m sorry,” I added when I saw the look on his face.
“Princess, it’s okay.” He put his hand on top of mine. “I believe you. I’m sorry I pressed it. I was just hoping…” his voice trailed off. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”
I wanted to believe him. But the more promises he made, the less I believed any of them.
***
I expected for us to go to his country club. Or some swanky restaurant that had a huge waitlist. Instead, my dad’s town car stopped at a small corner diner.
The inside was just as adorable as the outside. There were black and white checkered floors and red booths. The heat was turned up for the cool autumn day and the smell of grease hung in the air. It reminded me of a diner back home. My mom and I used to go to it all the time for milkshakes. Especially when I had bad days at school.
The hostess greeted him by name with a friendly smile.
Wait. He comes here frequently? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. I thought there were house rules about carbs or something. Or was it junk food? God, I needed a copy of those rules.
The hostess showed us to a booth and asked if he’d like his usual. He ordered two.
I couldn’t help it. I just stared at him as she walked away.
“This is one of my favorite places,” my dad said.
“But it’s…” my voice trailed off. “It’s not very much like your apartment.”
“I know, it’s refreshing right? I used to come here with your mom all the time.”
I pressed my lips together. First the hidden apartment that had belonged to my mom. Now a diner they used to go to together? There were forgotten pieces of my mom scattered all over the city. And I was pretty sure my dad was the only one who remembered where they all were. “You kept coming here after she left?”
“Actually, I bought it,” he said as he leaned back in the booth.
“You bought it?”
“It was a good investment opportunity.” He straightened the salt shaker so that it was perfectly in line with the pepper shaker, as if that was more interesting than our conversation.
“That’s the only reason?”
He stopped fidgeting with the seasonings. “I didn’t want them to change anything.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it. If you loved my mom that much, why did you let her leave?”
“My business is dangerous, Brooklyn. It was better…”
“I know. You’ve said that before. But you have enough money and resources to do whatever you want.” I gestured to the literal diner he bought to preserve his memories of my mom. “You said you can protect me. You could have protected her.” You could have protected us. If he’d stayed in my life, my mom might still be alive. There might have been something he could have done. Some procedure or…something. We’d needed him.
“She wanted to go. I had to respect her decision.”
I didn’t press him. I could tell that it had killed him to let her go. It may have killed my mom too. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about that. Why did you want to have lunch?”
“I wanted to give you an update on the new security system. Everything is already in place. But…”
“Coffee for you too, hon?” a waitress asked. The smell of fresh coffee swirled through the air as she poured a cup for my dad.
I’d always liked the smell. But never the taste. “No, thanks,” I said.
She hurried off as quickly as she’d come.
My dad wrapped his hand around his mug. “Your mom never liked coffee either. Just the smell of it.” He smiled at me.
I didn’t know if he knew how hard these conversations were for me. The things I knew about my mom mixed with his memories. I wanted to hear everything but at the same time none of it because it made me miss her so much that it hurt.
“You look so much like her,” he said.
I looked down at the table. I didn’t want to cry anymore today.
“Brooklyn, I know I let your mom down. I’ve spent half my life missing her. I’ve been given a second chance to do this right. And I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”
When I’d first met him, I thought he hated me. But now I was pretty sure I was his only family member he even got along with. He loved my mom. And he loved me too.