“Who’s the hottie?” she asked.
“A bodyguard.”
She clucked her tongue. “For what?”
I caught sight of a customer waving at me. “Million-dollar question.”
A few minutes after taking the credit card from my guest at table six and closing out the check, I waited on the party at my new table. As I headed to the bar to fill their drink orders, my phone pinged.
Duke:No! I will do no such thing.
I busted out laughing to keep myself from screaming.
Well, we would see about that.
8
BRIAN
Acool March breeze kicked up a soda can that was lying on the ground near the city’s trash bin outside Deek’s Bar and Grill, where I was chatting with my daughter over the phone.
“Dad, are you still coming to the banquet next week?” Fran asked with a hint of sadness in her tone.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” The world could be on fire, and I would break down walls to make sure I was there for her. “Are you ready?”
She and a handful of other students from Oakwood Academy would be presenting their science projects to a prominent energy company in the US. Fran’s project was on fuel cell technology. The night following her presentation, the winner of a scholarship—a full ride to a university of choice—would be announced at a special banquet.
She clucked her tongue. “Almost. My project is done, but I have to write up a summary on the microbial fuel cells for renewable energy.”
I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt. “Are you sure you’re related to me?” I teased.
“Daaad.” She giggled, a sound I could listen to forever. “You know we have the same blond hair and green eyes. I look just like you.”
“You have your mom’s nose, though.”
Shayla had been a pretty brunette, and it gutted me when she died. Fran needed her mom now more than ever, since she was in her teenage years and was dealing with womanly topics. I sure as hell wasn’t the expert. Luckily, Grace had been there for her.
Silence filtered through the line.
“I know you miss her,” I said softly.
“I wish she was here,” Fran breathed through the phone. “Dad, I have to be up early, and I need to finish my math homework.”
I glanced at my watch. Duke should be here soon. We’d agreed to meet at nine for a drink.
“Before we hang up, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Is everything okay? Did you not find an apartment in Boston?”
“I’m fine, sweetie. And I secured an apartment earlier today that you’ll love.”
“Please tell me you’re not in trouble with the law. You promised you wouldn’t go back to that type of business.” Her disappointment pierced my damn heart.
It pained me that I’d had to explain to my innocent daughter, who was shielded from my dangerous lifestyle since the day she was born, that I’d worked for the cartel. It was difficult not to tell her my truths when she’d asked a zillion questions as to why Duke had gone to prison.
“Hunter Thompson, a bodyguard I hired, will be watching over you, only if you leave school grounds.”
She huffed. “Dad, you know how I feel about those types of men. But the bigger issue is why?”
