My father keeps his pleading eyes on me, ignoring Luisa. “One dinner. At the very least give me the opportunity to clear up any misunderstandings. I’ve only heard Damien’s side of things. I’m sorry for lashing out during a time of pure and utter confusion. Allow me to make amends.”
I feel the girls’ eyes on me widen as I offer a weak smile. “One dinner.”
He nods as he runs a hand down his tie. “This week. I’ll set it up.” He squeezes my shoulder before sidestepping the ladies and walking out of my office.
I feel at war with my emotions as I lean against the closed door and slide down until my ass hits the floor.
Luisa and Isa each take a seat next to me, letting me settle in the silence before having to answer any of their questions.
I feel so vulnerable after that interaction. I’m usually the one trying to cheer others up while covertly hiding the skeletons in my own closet. And having my biggest one waltz out of here as if he were a business associate instead of a doting dad hurts.
“We don’t have to talk about it. If you want to order all the sweets from the cafeteria, I can have them up here in the next five minutes,” Luisa offers.
“Or we can talk about you and Luke,” Isa tries instead.
“Isa,” Luisa warns.
“What? We don’t have to talk about the sex she’s having with Coach Weston. Although I’m sure it was hot as hell, given how you look like you’ve had your back broken and put back together again.”
I slap a hand over my forehead as an incredulous laugh escapes from deep in my chest.
“Maybe Daisy can tell us about life in the mountains. You know, about the landscapes and whatnot. That’s what I was getting at,” Isabella says innocently.
“Uh-huh. Sure you were.” Luisa smirks.
I lean my head against the door, a small smile playing on my lips. “Want to hear about the time I found Luke in the backyard chopping wood while shirtless?”
By their ear-piercing screeches, I think that sounds like a resounding yes to me.
thirty-five
I’m engulfed in asweaty pile of bodies.
And I’ve got to admit, I kind of missed this.
The post-game high that comes after your guys completely obliterate the visiting team. This win was extra sweet for Mateo, since it was against the team we lost our World Series ticket to last season. Proving once and for all that we are the better team and would have gone all the way had he not decided to punch Isabella’s ex in the middle of the game and get his ass ejected.
But we’re past that now. Mostly.
And now the men, who sometimes act like overgrown children, cheer as they celebrate their seventeen-game winning streak.
“Looking good for a man who didn’t know whether to use a bat or a racket, Vega,” I yell out to him.
He places a hand over his sweaty bare chest. “Aw, you hear that Middlebrooks? He noticed me.”
Ace Middlebrooks spreads his arms wide, his impressive tattoo collection on display. “Hey, what about me? That fucker may have sent the ball flying out of the stadium once or twice, but I prevented every player who dared run past third base from getting to home plate.”
Children, I tell you.
“Yeah, yeah. Stop by my office if you want gold stars for doing your damn jobs.” They laugh as I shake my head. “Now hit the showers. We’re flying to Miami early in the morning and I don’t want any of you out too late.” I almost grunt the last part.
The idea of getting on a plane and putting distance between Daisy and myself almost makes me physically ill.
I’ve become so accustomed to having her within arm’s reach that I hadn’t really put thought into the fact that my job has me traveling more often than not for the better part of a year.
I look over at Mateo and wonder how the hell he does it, knowing how obsessed he is with his fiancée.
Maybe if I rush, I can get Daisy home in time for a late dinner before I eat her for dessert.
