12. Lottie

Things were moving too fast to keep my head wrapped around them.

Hunter clicked his glass against mine, the mimosa nearly sloshing out the top of the flute. "To us," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down in the crowded restaurant filled with people trying to enjoy their breakfast. "And to you."

"Stop showing me off," I mumbled, trying to disguise the little smile I couldn't hide as I lifted my glass to my lips. "No one's paying us any attention."

"I don't care if they're paying attention." He sliced one serving of his eggs benedict in half, letting the gooey center pour over the salmon and spinach. "We're here to celebrate you. In two days' time, you'll be the full-on manager. No more Hank holding you down."

"That doesn't exactly call for a celebration," I chuckled.

I was genuinely surprised how easy it had become pretending to be Hunter's girlfriend. This was the third date he'd dragged me on since our time at the lake, and the fourth overall. Although I wasn't one for flashy restaurants or going out dancing, it hadn't been as horrible as I'd expected. He still angered me to the core half the time, and I was trying to get used to having my photo taken unexpectedly with food in my mouth, but things were no longer as much of a nightmare as they had been at the beginning.

I would even go so far as to say I was getting good at being Hunter's fake girlfriend.

"It absolutely does," he grinned. "Have you told your dad?"

I shook my head and shoved a massive bite of gravy-covered biscuit into my mouth to avoid answering properly.

"Lottie, why? You know he'll be excited for you."

I forced myself to swallow. "He already knows I have the job as the manager. I really don't think that fully taking over is all that special."

He narrowed his gaze at me. "When you were a kid, what did you want to be?"

"Do you have amnesia? I told you already. A plastic surgeon."

A little smirk spread across his cheeks. "After that."

I rolled my eyes and shoved another bite into my mouth, choosing to speak around a mouthful just to annoy him. "A stable manager."

"And now you're that and more. He'd be proud."

"Now? I'm not there yet. Two more days, remember?" I mocked, my stomach beginning to churn from the thought of the presentation I'd be giving.

Hunter chuckled and poked his fork toward me, the playful side of him coming out. "Sorry. You're right." He took a hefty sip of his mimosa, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Every fucking move of his body was sinful. "You should still tell your dad, though."

I shook my head again, stuffing down more of my food to calm my churning stomach. It didn't help. "If I do, he'll just give me a long speech about my mom and how proud she'd be of me. I don't want to deal with that."

"Why?"

The question, that single word, jarred me. I blinked at him, taking in the genuine expression of concern on his face, a hint of pity somewhere in there. "Because it's… I don't know. It's a lot to think about, I guess. We'll never really know if she is or she isn't, and it irks me when he puts words in her mouth."

Without even realizing it, my fingers had twisted themselves in the chain around my neck, my thumb absentmindedly stroking the horseshoe at my collarbone.

"Was that hers?" Hunter asked, his tone a bit softer, his voice a little lower.

"The necklace? Yeah."

He nodded as he placed his knife and fork down on the plate, his full attention focused wholly on me. It was a little jarring, having all that care aimed in my direction. "Do you remember much about her?"

"No," I sighed. "Bits and pieces here and there, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't even be able to remember her face if I didn't see it plastered all over the house. The sound of her voice has become a faded melody."

There's a cherished memory I have of her that becomes more faded with time, filled with little patches where I'd gone in and replaced the gaps. The three of us are at a beach somewhere, the harsh sun beating down as I carefully constructed a sand castle. Mom was taking photos of me while I did it, all smiles and laughs, but the words she spoke were distant, muffled. I wish I knew what she was saying to me, and there have been times I've plugged in my own commentary when I needed it.

"Hey, hey," Hunter cooed, reaching across the table and swiping at my cheek with his thumb. Why is it wet?

The flash of a camera not three feet away made me jump. My knee slammed into the table, knocking over our mimosas and sending them crashing, exploding on the nice hardwood beneath us.

"Shit, sorry!"

I shot the stranger a glare, sizing him up within a second. But Hunter was already on his feet.

"Get the fuck out," he snapped, taking one step toward the photographer. The man shrunk in on himself, another mumbled apology as he stumbled away from us.

Hunter's fists were clenched, a muscle twitching in his locked jaw.

"Hunter," I said, keeping my voice low as I reached out to him with one hand and wiped the last of my tears with the other. "Calm down."

"I want him to delete it." His body vibrated slightly, adrenaline pouring through his system in waves. I took his hand in mine and pulled him back toward the table.

"It's fine. I don't care."

"I care," he snapped, angling that glare at me for a split second before it morphed into something much softer, much calmer. "I'm sorry. That's just…"

"It's okay. Sit down before anyone else decides this is a good photo opportunity," I said softly. I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb, a gentle coax for him to stop making a scene. There were already waiters frantically sweeping up the broken glass around us. We didn't need any more attention, and definitely not a photo of his fist colliding with a stranger.

————

Relief flooded me as we finally left the restaurant and entered into the covered parking garage. We drove separately, purely because we both had things to be getting on with afterward, and I couldn't help but feel the tiniest hint of sadness that I wouldn't see him again until the meeting.

"Are you ready for Monday?"

Dammit. "Yeah," I said hesitantly. I clicked the button on my key fob to unlock my Altima. "I've got the weekend to prep."

"Do you want some help with it?" he offered. He leaned against the back of his beat-up truck, a vehicle I'd never expected him to be driving. It was the same one that had shown up outside my house. Usually, someone like him would be expected to drive something flashier, but I didn't give it too much thought. "It's… it's important, Lottie. Really important. You've got to nail it."

Something in his tone pulled my defenses up within a second. "Are you expecting me not to nail it?"

"No, it's that," he fumbled. "It's just, my dad's going to be there. I know the kinds of things he wants to hear. That's all."

I shot him a glare as I opened up the driver"s side door of my car. "What, like how we're going to be breeding thoroughbreds?"

His face sunk, his groan guttural. "Lottie. Please. We talked about that."

"I'll see you on Monday." I dropped into the car and slammed the door behind me, not daring to give him a passing glance as I reversed out of the parking space.

————

A knock on my bedroom door made me pause halfway through writing a slide for my PowerPoint presentation. I knew it was Dad—it was always Dad. Besides, there wasn't anyone else here.

"Come in," I called.

The old door creaked open and Dad's mop of graying hair poked around the frame. "Hey, Lots," he said, and within a second, the tone had me on edge.

Somehow, I knew where this was going.

"We need to talk."

God fucking dammit. "Yeah, I saw this coming a mile away."

Dad pushed the door fully open and let himself inside, settling his aging frame down on my childhood bed, the bed answering with a squeaky groan. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I wasn't," I said simply, keeping my attention focused on my computer screen. I started a new slide, feverishly typing, hoping to make myself look busy.

"Why?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't approve," I sighed. "And that you'd end up here, on my bed, about to give me a lecture on how I'm setting myself up for failure."

I watched from the corner of my eye as Dad narrowed his gaze at me. "So, if it worked out long term, you were just going to hide him from me forever?"

Shifting my attention from the screen to him, I blinked. "Pretty much."

"Lottie," he groaned. "Yes, you deserve a talking to, but you shouldn't keep stuff like this from me."

"I wasn't exactly keeping it from you, Dad. It's not my fault you don't check the news."

"I'd rather hear that my daughter is sleeping with my client from her own mouth," he said, a hint of venom in his tone. It made my back stiffen, made me far too aware of his irritation. "Look, I'm not going to talk down to you like you're a child. You're not. But you know damn well the kind of man he is?—"

"I know. I've heard you talk about him. I've heard others talk about him. I know who he is and what he does."

"Then you know why I'm not happy about it," he replied. "You went to Hawaii for a reason, sweetie. I don't want you to have to do that again."

"I went to Hawaii to get away from my ex. Yes, they share similar traits, but I can't see Hunter getting so attached that he won't fucking leave me alone," I snapped. "It's fine, Dad. I'm fine."

"I don't like it."

"I know."

"And he's your boss?—"

"Dad, please. I get it," I insisted, shutting my laptop to stare him down. "I'm trying really hard to prep for this stupid presentation I have to give on Monday, and I really don't need your disapproval beating me down right now. Just let me do my thing and I'll let you do yours."

He held his tongue and released a long sigh before pushing himself up on shaky knees. I knew he cared and that it came from a place of simply wanting his daughter to be happy, but I couldn't give him the reassurance that it was all fake. Couldn't have that slipping through the cracks. Besides, a part of me somewhere deep inside knew that it would hurt just a little to say that it was fake out loud. That was the part of me that I needed to snuff out before it grew like wildfire. "Alright. Just know that he's not worthy of you, Lots. You're miles better. You can do miles better than him."

"I know."

He crossed the room to the door, taking one last look back at me. "Don't let him break your heart."