Nick starts. “Okay, so this is how it’s going to go—”
“I love her.”
“You’re going to—wait. What did you just say?”
“I love Daisy. And by some miracle, she loves me too. So I’ll keep this real simple for you. If us working together is a problem for the Monarchs organization, then I quit, effective immediately. I won’t take the Monarchs away from Daisy likeher ex tried to. I love her too damn much to make her choose between the two. So if you’re here to tell me you have some antiquated view of who your sister should or shouldn’t date and are using your position as my boss to throw that weight around, then you can save it. Because Daisy’s love and opinion are the only things that matter to me.”
Nick stares at me harshly for a few moments before he breaks. “For fuck’s sake. I get one chance to perform my brotherly duty to scare her new man shitless and what does he do? He falls on the proverbial sword for her.” He scoffs, waving his hand my way. “Listen, man, I was well aware of your feelings for my sister long before you saved her from that wedding from hell. Which, by the way, I’ve yet to properly thank you for. I have a nice bottle of whiskey at my house with your name on it.” He shifts forward, leaning on his desk. “And keep all that talk of resigning to yourself. I swear my wife has bat-like hearing, and if you’re not careful, she’ll barrel into my office offering you a raise to keep you,” he grunts.
My lip twitches. “Well, I do have a woman who’s awoken this newfound desire to spoil her rotten, so maybe a renegotiation wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
He looks at me, unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah. But if Luisa asks, I threatened you within an inch of your life and reminded you that if you ever were to hurt Daisy,” he leans in even closer, “I know a guy.” He lifts a brow, trying to drive his point home.
I lift from my chair and hold out my hand for him to shake. Even though this conversation was unnecessary, I actually have grown quite fond of Nick and his antics. And I know how much Daisy loves her brother, so that means I’ll play nice.
“Thanks for the chat, but I’ve got a game to prepare for.”
He shakes my hand. “Thanks again. My sister looked so different when she walked in. I barely even recognized her.” He pauses. “Happy looks good on her.”
I release him and make my way to the door, fully intending to leave, but not before I make one thing crystal clear.
I speak, my eyes never leaving his. “And for the record, Nick. You no longer need to ‘know a guy.’ Because if someone hurts Daisy, I’m the only guy you need to call.”
thirty-four
“What are you doinghere?”
My father tsks. “Now, is that any way to greet your father? I see this rebellious streak still hasn’t worked its way out of your system like I had hoped.” He lifts from my chair and starts to round my desk.
I instinctively take a step back.
He tracks the motion and sighs, as if it deeply inconveniences him. “Daisy, come on now. What has gotten into you? First, you’re nowhere to be found on your wedding day, leaving a smear of lipstick on a mirror as a sick form of joke. Then you block me from your phone, something my assistant had to explain to me after I couldn’t get through to you. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a member of your staff explain to you that your one and only daughter has decided to block her father after causing quite the scandal?”
I stiffen at his words.
Then I feel it. The old Daisy, discreetly trying to slip back into place. The version of myself that hates disappointing others and feels guilt for being an inconvenience.
But that’s the thing about people pleasing. You become so accustomed to putting other people’s needs before your own that standing up for yourself starts to feel like a radical form of resistance. Because in a way, it is.
I clear my throat, battling with the urge to start my sentence with an apology.
Because I’m not sorry. And if I were to apologize to anyone at this point, it would be the hundreds of guests who traveled from near and far for a wedding that never was.
And even then, I’m sure they flew in on private jets and were gifted free societal gossip to last them well into the holidays.
So instead, I steel my spine with the little strength I have left over from my week at the cabin and ask what I really need to know.
“Were you in on it?”
My father seems momentarily confused, but I’m not sure if it’s because of my question or because I’m not cowering in a corner, begging for his forgiveness.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Damien told me everything. Or at least enough for me to know that our relationship was one big PR stunt. And from what I gather, you were in charge of making sure I always played my part. Is that true?”
My father grits his teeth as his jaw ticks to the side. That’s more emotion than I’ve seen from him in years. He always seems so unflappable around me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you sure you are well? You seem different. Maybe I should take you to see a doctor and get your head checked while we’re there.” He lifts his arm, aiming for the door, but I push it down, truly shocking him.
“I know about the other women. How he intended to use me for votes. And I know that you told him you would ‘handle’ me. Apparently after I was a no-show at the wedding, you got a demotion or something, because now he seems to be sending our stupid save the dates as some form of public statement. Care to comment on any of that?”
