I exhaled heavily, a lifetime of accusation lifted from my shoulders. I poured the brewed coffee and the whiskey. The two men were quite still as I set the multiple cups on the table.
On my way back to the counter, I squeezed Godric’s shoulder in appreciation. My father and I had both needed to hear that. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it back, letting my palm slide out of his grasp as I walked to get my food.
Godric murmured respectfully, “I’ve never said this before either. And I should have. I am truly sorry for the loss of your wife, General Carvene.”
My father sucked in a large breath.
I put my macaroni down on the table and instantly rushed to my father’s side. I leaned over and threw my arms around him. My father trembled in my arms, tucking his head against my shoulder, and held me with strong arms.
A tear had slipped down his cheek.
I had only seen him cry once—by my mom’s hospital bed when there was nothing left to do to save her.
My eyes burned as I rubbed his back.
“I think I have an idea, Father,” I whispered. “A way to make everyone believe you accept our relationship on a personal level but not on a professional level.”
His head lifted, and his eyes were thankfully dry now. “What has my darling dearest come up with now?”
“You’ll see.”
* * *
“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Godric whispered the next day through a fake smile plastered on his face. He lifted his hand and flicked his wrist in a small wave to the photographers outside the restaurant’s window. His eyes returned to mine. “How many times do we have to do this?”
“At least once every two months,” I answered primly. I pointed to the food on his plate. “Eat something, or they’ll think you’re not having fun.”
My father chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. He was enjoying Godric’s discomfort immensely. We were in Port, definitely not New City. This was saving my father’s reputation with his army. He chewed a baby potato and swallowed it before stating, “The food is excellent here. Relax and enjoy it.”
Godric grumbled under his breath but started cutting into his steak. “You should probably lean over and kiss me. They need to know we’re a couple, and I’m not just here schmoozing with your father and his daughter.”
My lips twitched.
He wanted to save face with his own subordinates too.
I leaned on my chair in his direction, and he looked up, completely attuned to my body. His head dipped, and he pressed his lips to mine for a chaste but loving kiss. I leaned back on my chair and cleared my throat.
My father muttered, “I may have lost my appetite.”
“Don’t look disgusted or you’ll ruin this,” I mumbled, with a smile on my face. I took a drink of wine from my glass, asking behind it, “Did they take a picture of that?”
My father snorted and scanned his plate for his next bite. “Yes. My guess is it will be everywhere within the next five minutes.”
“My plan will work. I promise. Have a little faith.”
“Speaking of work,” my father probed. “When do you start the CA officially?”
“In a week. I’m actually excited. Major Wilcox wants me on the investigation team until I take the intelligence unit’s exam. There have apparently been a few women who have gone missing, and they want additional help. The major wanted me sooner, but the forms for enrollment in the CA take a while to get approval through their system.”
My father’s brows furrowed. “Can’t Mr. King ask them to put a rush on it?”
Godric muttered, “Poppy is being very difficult—”
I poked his side. Hard. “You will not interfere with my job. No matter what.”
Godric shrugged, his attention on my father. “See? Difficult.”
“Promise me, Godric,” I demanded.
