Chapter 18

DIANA

Ifollowed my dad into the country club. My father, ever the politician, was in his element. He effortlessly worked the room and enchanted the upper-class men with his charisma and charm. He knew every name and the names of their family members. He knew what they might be going through, like where their kids were going to school and what job they were starting. He always amazed me with how much information he could hold in his head. I didn't know if I could do that.

I stood by his side and watched his political maneuvering. As always, I knew to stay quiet and smile when appropriate. Unfortunately, the occasional glance or comment from some of the men made me feel uneasy.

"You've really grown into a beautiful woman," one of the men said. "Richard, you must be very proud."

"We are." My father nodded.

I offered a polite smile in return, feeling their eyes lingering on me a moment too long. My father, oblivious to their advances and leers, kept talking. He would dismiss the comments as harmless compliments. But I knew better. I had learned to navigate these social gatherings with caution. I didn't want to offend anyone. But I was always on guard. More than once a hand accidentally brushed across my ass. At some of the dances we attended, I found myself being pulled onto the dance floor by men twice my age who tended to get just a little too friendly.

"Richard, I was hoping we could talk for a minute," one of the city council members said.

I was more than happy to get away. "Go ahead. I'm going to get a drink and sit outside."

My father nodded and walked away. I quickly escaped to the patio and sat down. I picked up the menu and had barely read through it when my father joined me.

"That was fast," I said.

"I'm not here to talk business," he said.

"I think I'll have a mojito," I said.

"Water will do just fine, Diana," he said firmly. "Best to keep a clear head with so many people around. People are watching and judging. It's a little early in the day to be drinking."

I looked at the time. It was four in the afternoon, not eight in the morning. Glancing around the patio area, most people had a cocktail of some kind or another in front of them. The city council member he'd just spoken to had a glass of whiskey big enough to swim in.

But that didn't matter to Dad. What he said went.

I suppressed a sigh of frustration, wishing he didn't care so much about what others thought of us. But I knew better than to argue with him, especially in public. Instead, I nodded obediently and placed my order, resigning myself to another afternoon of playing the dutiful daughter. We had to make the country club appearances at least once a month. It was all about rubbing elbows and impressing his constituents.

While we waited for our food, my father decided it was a good time to talk about Jessie and Abigail. "I wish those two would get their act together," he said. "Jessie should be married by now. And Abigail? She should have gone to school. She could be doing so much more with her life."

"She's happy," I said. "And Jessie hasn't found the right woman. He's still young."

He shook his head. "All of you are too picky," he complained. "There are plenty of great young women for him, and you and Abigail have plenty of options as well."

"Dad, you can't force love," I said. "That never ends well."

"You've always been the straight arrow," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "We just had to shoot you in the right direction, and you always flew the course. I need to figure out how to get the other two to follow you."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the tired analogy. The implication that every decision I'd ever made had been orchestrated by him. He was trying to take credit for every success in my life, while conveniently absolving himself of any responsibility for my failures. When I did well, he was shouting it from the rooftops. When I did something he wasn't proud of, he couldn't get away from me fast enough.

"Jessie is still finding himself," I argued. "He's not lost. He's just trying to find what makes him happy. That's not a bad thing. Abigail is carving out her own path. They deserve to figure things out for themselves. I feel lucky I knew what I wanted from a young age. I love teaching. I am very fortunate I got a job here. I think you need to be prepared for them to leave the nest. They might need to move somewhere else to find their happiness."

He looked at me and I just knew he was about to slap a lecture on me. I was in trouble for speaking out. But instead, he smiled. "See, that's what I'm talking about. You always were the sensible one in the family. I just wish the others could see the world the way you do. I'm glad you found your passion so early on. Keep inspiring them. They'll come around eventually."

"Yes, they will." I nodded.

Our waters were delivered, along with the appetizers we ordered.

"Your mother is itching for grandchildren, you know," he said with a teasing smile. "We both know you'll be the one to give them to us. We can't count on Jessie and Abigail settling down any time soon. Have you met anyone yet? So many of my friends would love to see you married to their sons."

"I'll bet." I knew better than to entertain his matchmaking schemes. "Dad, I'm not in a rush. I'm happy with my life as it is. Besides, Jessie and Abigail might surprise you one day."

"You're not getting any younger," he said. "Your mother and I would like to know our grandchildren before we can't move."

"I haven't met the right person yet," I replied. "Trust me, I'll make sure you know when I'm ready to walk down the aisle."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"About what?"

"Tom Wiley told me you were getting pretty cozy with that handsome newcomer from New York," he said while looking away.

I nearly choked on my water, cursing Tom's big mouth under my breath. Tom Wiley owned the grocery store and was the biggest gossip. He had eyes everywhere. I had no idea how he found out half the shit he knew.

"Tom thinks the newcomer is handsome?" I asked, stalling for time.

My father scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That's not the point."

"Hudson is just a friend," I insisted, hoping to downplay the situation.

"Not according to Tom," my father countered, his tone skeptical as he finally looked at me. "He said it looked like the two of you were more than a little friendly." His accusatory gaze literally made me hot under the collar.

I bristled at the implication I did anything wrong. "Tom is a meddling prude," I retorted, my voice sharper than intended. "What does he know? I was having fun. We all were. We danced. We played pool. We had a few drinks. Like literally everyone else in the bar. Was Tom worried about them too?"

Tom's gossip planted a seed of doubt in his mind, and no amount of protesting on my part would convince him otherwise. It was a frustrating reality, but one I had grown accustomed to in this small town where everyone was up everyone else's business.

"That's why you were late," he said. "You were drunk on a school night."

"Dad, I'm the teacher," I said. "I can be drunk any day of the week if I want to. I could be drunk right now, like half the people in here."

"You know people hold you to a higher standard," he said.

"Maybe they shouldn't," I muttered. "Does Tom want to outlaw beer and dancing? Is this the town from Footloose?"

"Be polite," he scolded me. "I'll leave it alone for now, but just be cautious. From what I've heard, this stranger doesn't fit in here. He's not the small-town type. You don't want to sully your good name by messing with people like him. Like poor Sara Crowe."

I gaped at him. "You heard about that too?"

He sniffed in disgust. "Everyone has heard about that. And that's what I'm saying. There are no secrets in this town. Not if you air your dirty laundry in front of everyone."

I rolled my eyes but resisted the urge to argue more. "Whatever," I muttered. "I'm so sick of people acting like my father. It's like living with two-thousand parents."

"They're looking out for you."

"They're spying and judging me," I shot back.

"I just want you to be careful. I know I come on strong, but that's all I want at the end of the day, for my kids to be respected in this town. And the first step toward being respected is to be respectable."

"I appreciate your concern, Dad," I said, trying to appease him. "But I'm a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions. Hudson is a great guy, and I'm not going to shun him because people are stuck up and close-minded."

My father sighed, shaking his head. "I just want the best for you," he said. "And in this town, it is very easy to fall from grace."

I gave him a weak smile. "I understand, Dad. But I promise, I'm being smart and cautious. Hudson isn't anyone to be afraid of."

He still didn't look completely convinced, but he nodded in agreement. "Alright, sweetheart. Just be careful."

After lunch, he drove me home. "I'll call the insurance agent," he said. "This is ridiculous. You need a car."

In this one thing, I was more than happy to let my daddy step in. "Thanks, Dad. Give ‘em heck."

I got out of the car and walked up the front steps. A bouquet of bright flowers was sitting in front of the door. I quickly picked it up and carried it inside, shielding it with my body so my father wouldn't see it.

Grabbing the attached note, I tore the little envelope open and read it. "Be ready at seven," it said. It was simply signed Hudson.

I grinned and took a deep sniff of the flowers, letting the smell fill my senses. He didn't forget about me. I thought he dropped me like a hot potato after learning I was a virgin. But apparently not.

I rushed to my room and dove into my closet, searching for the perfect outfit. As I rummaged through things I hadn't worn in ages, butterflies took flight in my stomach. The excitement of seeing Hudson again, along with the mysterious note and beautiful bouquet, filled me with a mix of nerves and anticipation. I wanted to look perfect for him, to impress him and show him that I was worth his time and attention.

After several minutes of frantic searching, I finally found the perfect dress. It was a sexy little black thing that flattered my figure. He had only ever seen me in jeans. I wanted to show I could be feminine as well.

Despite my father's warnings, I was excited. Just maybe, Hudson could be the one to break through the monotony of small-town life and ignite a spark of something new and exciting.

If not, he would at least show me a good time.