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My mouth remains closed as I stare up at him. A deluge of defiance storms inside me, and I’d like to tell him right now that I don’t want his protection. I don’t need him to guard me from those thoughts in his head. Those depraved thoughts as he calls them. That I am a woman, and I want every single one of those things he’s thinking.

But I bite my tongue, sparing the argument.

“Sunny…” he groans with aggravation.

“Yes,” I bite back. “I understand.”

We reach an impasse, both of us staring at each other. It’s like I’ve completely discarded those promises I made with myself last night. Get over this Alexander Caldwell thing and focus on work.

As he turns away, he runs his fingers through his hair.

“How long will the mural take?” he asks, looking up at the grid in place on the wall.

“I don’t know.”

He must be desperate to get rid of me now.

Just as I turn back toward my sketchbook to get back to work, something catches my eye across the yard. Someone is in my yard…a man.

My heart skids to a stop. With his sable black hair combed back and his crisp white button-up shirt, I spot my dad walking across the patio, tearing through the outdoor fridge behind the bar.

I don’t say a word to Alexander as I bolt across the room and out the door. I cross the yard in just a few steps as I holler. “Dad!”

He glances up, confused as I run through the hedges and onto the patio.

“Where’s your mother?” he asks by way of greeting.

“I don’t know.”

“I need the keys to the boat, and I know she fucking lost them somewhere.” He rifles through the bar, dumping out buckets filled with bottle caps and wine corks. “She used to put her keys in the freezer when she was drunk.”

“How long are you staying?” I ask, trying to steal a moment of his attention.

“I’m not, Sunny. I have to find those keys and get out before she comes back. I don’t want to deal with your mother right now.”

“I can help,” I chirp as I walk inside and start pouring through drawers and baskets with random items.

“Who the fuck is that?” my dad asks, following me inside.

“Who?”

“The guy in the yard. You were just over there.”

I glance out the window to see Alexander standing on our side of the hedge, watching with his hands in his pockets. Now that we are inside, he can’t quite see me, but it doesn’t stop his vigilant observation.

“That’s Alexander Caldwell.”

My father seems to ignore me as he keeps looking for the keys.

“He’s paying me to paint a mural in his pool house. Isn’t that awesome?”

Still, no answer, as I watch him tear through the house like he still lives here. I nearly choke on the pain of feeling so ignored like I am still waiting for him to call me back, even though he is standing right here.

“Can I come with you?” I ask in desperation. I can forget about the mural and Alexander and his promise to take care of me if I have to. The thought sours in my stomach immediately, but I need to get out of here.

“Come with me? What do you mean?”

“Can I come stay with you? I don’t want to be here with Mom anymore.”