Chapter Twenty-Three
I’m honestly shocked when I leave work on Thursday a little after seven and Casey still hasn’t shown up in my office to rip me a new one.
Maybe Declan hasn’t had a chance to tell her what happened yet.
Or, maybe he’s not going to tell her.
Not going to lie, that possibility makes me frickinghard.
I’m halfway home when my personal cell rings.
Aussie.
“Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”
“Are you still at work, Dad?”
I hate to feel cynical, but since she’s been at school I usually don’t get many calls, aside from my Sunday check-in, unless she needs something. “No, I’m on my way home. Why?”
“Have you eaten dinner yet?”
Now I’mreallysuspicious. “No. Why?”
“Ashleigh and I were over here getting something from her parents’ house, and we thought ifyou weren’t busy we’d bring dinner and hang for a little while.”
I sense maybe there’s more to this than she’s saying, but maybe not. “Sure. If you get there before I do, leave the alarm off.”
“Roger-dodger. Love you, Daddy.”
I smile. “Love you, too, sweetheart.” Maybe she doesn’t want something. She’s called me Daddy a lot ever since…
Like she’s not afraid to let me see her true emotionsnow.
Before, when we first hit the surly tween girl age with her, we went from Mommy and Daddy to Mom and Dad—or Mother and Father if she was especially irritated at us—usually only getting the first set of labels if she was trying to hit us up for money or permission to do something.
Maybe she just wants some face-time with her old man.
Knowing Aussie is visiting me tonight also helps chaseaway the growing darkness in my mind. I don’t drop in on her at college, because that’s a security hassle and embarrasses her when I do. Then I’m also unable to have alone-alone time with her, because everyone wants to come see her dad.
Not because I’m the governor, either, but because they want selfies with the “miracle man.”
No, thank you.
I don’t feel like putting myself through that, butI can’t refuse them without looking like an asshole.
Worse, they’re nearly all voters now, so I feel obligated to schmooze.
This is all stuff I’ve talked with Aussie about, too. She knows how I feel, so it works out better if she comes to visit me, either at work or at home.
When we arrive, Ashleigh’s car is parked in front of the house and the officer driving me tonight notes that. “Do I needto wait for a moment, sir?” he asks.
“No, it’s just my daughter and her friend. It’s all right.” I noted the extra marked car parked outside the development when we arrived, Aussie’s security detail, no doubt. Once she’s eighteen, she can refuse protection, if she wants, unless I order it.
I’m still…trying to figure that out.
Part of me knows yes, she needs to have privacy, especially at thistime of her life.
But she’smylittle girl.
