“Barbeque chicken and jalapenos,” he says. “That’s my favourite. For next time.”
For next time.
I take those words and tuck them away.
Next time.
Chapter 4
Darius
“Absolutely not,” I growl into the phone. It’s pointless though, my father and I both know it.
“Darius.” His voice is stern and I hate the way he says my name, like I’ve already disappointed him. “I’m only asking you to take him out for dinner. Smile. Put on some of that award-winning Thorne-Sutton charm. And if you hit it off – ”
“We won’t,” I reply, interrupting a speech I’ve heard a thousand times since I was eighteen.
My father ignores me.
“Ifyou hit it off, and things get serious, it’ll be great for business. They’re a very influential family.” I roll my eyes, thankful he can’t see my reaction. This isn’t the first date that he’s set me up on, nor will it be the last. My father doesn’t understand that sons of “very important” men are seldom my type. They’re usually only interested in getting me into bed or equally as tired of their parents meddling with their lives.
In my father’s world, it doesn’t matter if you like a person or not, as long as you can get something from them. Wealth. Influence. Power.
It’s bullshit.
“Saturday night, Darius. I will send the car and you will pick him up at seven. Don’t be late. And I’ll see you at the house on Friday as always. Your stepmum is looking forward to it.” He ends the call, silence heavy on the other side of the line, and I throw my phone onto the staffroom table with a grunt of frustration.
“What’s up, sugarplum?” Florence asks from where she’s sitting with her feet up on the table, her phone in one hand. Her dark brown hair is in a bun, and she keeps flicking her fringe out of her eyes.
I sigh. “Just daddy-dearest being his usual annoying self.”
She chuckles. “What is it this time? Stepmum? Another over the top dinner?”
I nod. “Both. But mostly another fucking set up.”
Florence sighs dramatically, slapping the back of her palm to her forehead.
“However will you survive another fancy date, with all that champagne, caviar and attention?”
I rip a piece of crust off the sandwich I was eating before my father called and throw it at Florence.
“Those fancy dates suck the life out of me.” Her smirk grows and I point a finger at her. “Not like that. You know I don’t sleep with them.”
She nods. “I know. But, hear me out. What if you gave one of them a chance? You might find you actually like them?” Florence knows me well enough to know that won’t happen, so she can’t be surprised when I scowl at her. The last thing I need is to end up falling in love with a man my father picked because it was good for business.
“Fine. I know, I know,” she says, lifting her hands in mock surrender. “But you’re still going to go?”
I nod because I will do this for my father, as I always do. Maybe it’s obligation after all he’s given me in my twenty-six years of life or maybe it’s because he’s the only family I have and I hate the thought of disappointing him. Whatever the reason, he knows as well as I do that I will do as he asks.
Florence’s smile is soft as she hops to her feet, moving to stand in front of me.
“When? I’ll text you with an emergency and you can bunk off early.” It’s how these evenings usually go and I smile, already thinking of what excuse she will come up with this time.
I pull her into a hug and kiss her forehead. “Thank you. I love you, Flo.”
“I know, sugar. And I’ve got your back. Always.”
There’s two other staff members working in the front of the coffee shop, but by the time Florence and I get off our break, the place is swamped with the after-work crowd, a line snaking all the way to the door. I get stuck in and barely notice the hours tick by.
