Ian

W hat the hell? I feel like I've fallen into a time warp. I haven't seen this man in twenty years, but I recognize him instantly. He's a handsome dude. Older now, of course, with mostly salt in his long, curly salt and pepper hair; a fully white beard, neatly shaped, and a few more wrinkles around dark hazel eyes. He's got a friendly sort of face.

"Raj? Holy hell. It's been ages, man." I let go of Daisy, grateful that neither of us is in a state of too much disarray. Can't believe I forgot to lock the door. I'm too used to rattling around this place with just my staff. They know better than to barge in to my space. Now that we're open to visitors, I need to develop better habits.

I cross the room to shake his hand. "Nice to see you. How did you hear about the winery? Are you living on the West Coast these days?"

"Yeah, as it happens. I've been back here for a while." Raj's grin is pure charm. And suddenly familiar. Not because of our history, but because I've seen it recently. At least one very much like it.

"Fantastic. That's great. We should catch up soon." I really do mean it. I can't say that I've wondered what happened to the guy very much over the years, but he's got talent. If I thought about him at all, I assumed he was doing session work. I'm sure he's been on dozens of albums since working with us.

"For sure, for sure. This is a great setup you've got here, man." Raj holds his hands out, indicating the winery. "First class. I had a sample of your product. It's incredible. As a matter of fact —"

"What are you doing here?" Daisy's been so quiet, I almost forgot she was in the room. Looking at her, though, I don't know how I could miss her glare. Tension rolls off of her in thick waves.

"Hey there, Daisy G." Raj's voice goes soft, with a kind of tenderness that sets my radar on high alert. He sounds like he knows her. Like they have a history from way back.

I rewind the last couple of minutes in my head and realize Daisy greeted him by name. But she didn't call him Raj. She referred to him as Roger.

Is he the person she was on the phone with? The one she was utterly pissed at? Is he — fucking hell — her ex? An ugly sensation rises in my chest at the thought. It's irrational, but there it is. I hate the idea of her having an ex. Anyone who could have hurt her is on my shit list.

Settle down, cowboy, I tell myself. Now is not the time to get all wrapped up in my feelings for Daisy, however strong they are. At this moment, I need to sort out what the hell is going on with these two.

"So." I keep my tone casual. "I'm getting the sense that I don't need to introduce you."

"Correct," Daisy snaps. "It's not necessary. I'm familiar." Damn. She says familiar like it's a four letter word. Raj winces, but doesn't look away.

Again, her behavior is incredibly off. The Daisy I've come to know is cheerful, not tight lipped, and she certainly doesn't vibrate with rage the way she's doing right now. Clearly, there's something going on that I don't understand. What the hell is the problem?

"Hey Raj? Do you want to tell me what this is about?" My eyes dart back-and-forth between the two of them as he hesitates.

At first glance, there doesn't seem to be any connection between this older white guy and this lovely brown-skinned woman. But the more I look at them, the more similarities I begin to see. The shape and color of their eyes. Her nose slopes exactly like his. The subtle twist of his mouth is a dead ringer?—

"Holy shit," I breathe out. "You're Daisy's father."

"Yeah," Raj admits. His voice is almost too soft to hear. "I am."

Fuck me. I sit on one of the chairs at my conference table. I don't even know how to begin grappling with this.

This guy — who was my fucking bandmate, who I'd only known as Raj — he's my girl's dad ?

Well. This certainly explains why Daisy remembers the details about the band's brief flirtation with a different bassist, even after all this time.

"." Kel knocks on the door before poking her head in. "It's time for —"

"It's going to have to wait, Kel," I announce. "I don't care what you have to move, but please move it."

For a brief moment, she looks as if she might push back. But she looks around the room, at the guilt on Raj's face, the devastation on Daisy's, and she nods before ducking back out the door, gently closing it behind her.

Daisy takes a deep breath and blinks away the suspicious brightness in her eyes. I don't think it's possible to suck tears back in, but if there's a way, she'll find it. She is nothing if not determined.

She shouldn't have to push it all down. I want to hold her, to give her that space to be vulnerable and feel her feelings, but this is not the time.

"You need to get out there, ," she says. Her voice is low and thick with pain. "This is InWard Joy's debut. You should be enjoying it. Making connections with your customers and colleagues. Not dealing with this domestic drama."

"Is that what I am to you, Dez? Drama?" Raj looks at her, his expression bleak. "I suppose I've earned that."

"I'm not doing this with you." Daisy grabs a tissue and dab of corners of her eyes. " is my client. My responsibility is to him and him alone."

"Darlin', I've been around the block a time or two. And I'm not judging — goodness knows I have never been a saint myself — but what was happening when I came in here was not at all businesslike."

Shit. Daisy and I stare at each other. I'd hoped he didn't see the two of us kissing. It's not about me — I don't give two shits about my reputation. But Daisy has a job and a career to keep in mind. I don't want anyone trash talking her because we were careless.

"Nobody's gonna hear anything about this from me," Raj hastens to reassure us. "Y'all are adults, and it's none of my business what you get up to. Just saying: you might wanna lock the door next time."

Daisy's cheeks flame despite her father's very reasonable words. I almost want to laugh; it's the least tense moment since he entered my office. We're in our forties, but if it had been my parents, I'm sure my reaction would be the same as hers.

"Noted." I turn to Raj. "But I'm sure you're not here to discuss my forgetfulness."

"No, I didn't. I came to ask you if we could put the band back together."

The request stuns me. Courage hasn't played together in ten years. And Raj's brief time with us was long before that. I'm not sure what he's getting at.

"I'm opening a bar over in Northeast in a few months," he explains. "I need something splashy to bring folks in. When I saw that you were out here opening this place, I thought I'd ask you to invest. Then I heard through the grapevine that you were broke, and I figured I'd —"

"What?" Daisy interjects. "What do you mean 's broke?"

Double fuck me. Raj needs to shut the fuck up, and quickly. But my brain is frozen and I can't get the words out as he keeps going.

"His accountant ran off with his money," Raj tells her. Daisy's open-mouthed stare is laced with pity. My stomach churns at the sight.

"How the fuck did you hear that?" I ask him, finally getting my words back.

"Come on, man. You know how musicians are. We gossip. Especially when a bunch of folks were using the same guy and also got screwed over."

"Oh, …" Daisy intones. Her voice trails off as if she doesn't know what to say. I don't look at her. I can't. God, I never wanted her to know this.

"Anyway," Raj steamrolls on, "I figured you can't invest, but maybe you could give me some time? If we could get back on stage together, I'm sure we'd sell out the place out. You could promote your wine, we'd have specials on it, make cocktails with it, that kind of thing, and it would attract other big names to my place. What do you think?"

"You are unbelievable," Daisy says. Heat laces every word she speaks. "Get the band back together? That's a laugh."

Raj holds up both hands as if he's surrendering in the face of Daisy's anger. "Dez, it's just an expression."

"It wasn't your band. They weren't your fans. You weren't a fit. They didn't want you, Roger. Because you weren't the guy."

"Daisy —"

"You weren't the guy people showed up for. It was Shred. Not you. The band knew that. That's why they let you go." A tear slips down her face. Again, I want to reach out and pull her into my embrace, but I sense she would resent me for it. Raj just stands there, weathering the blows.

"I know that, Daisy." His voice is almost a whisper. "I was too much older than them. They had a groove already that I didn't fit into. But I had to try. I was sure it would be my big break. If not with Courage, with another band."

"But it wasn't, was it? You were only with them for six months, Dad. And when they let you go, you didn't even bother to come back home."

Fucking hell. Poor Daisy. Her dad runs off to join her favorite band, and then he gets kicked out? Holy shit. No wonder she's so angry with him.

"I had to try, Dez." Raj is still standing, but he's bent, almost collapsed in on himself. "Music was my dream. I wanted to make it big, for you and your mom. I wanted you all to be proud of me."

"We were proud of you. You just never realized it, because you weren't proud of yourself."

"When they let me go, I — I was too ashamed to come crawling back. So I stayed in LA, taking gigs with other bands, doing session work, and tours. I sent your mom all the money —"

"And of course, money makes it all better. That totally makes up for you abandoning your wife and child." She sniffles again, voice clogged with tears. He reaches out, like he wants to comfort her. The glare she sends his way could melt steel.

"Baby girl, don't be like this —"

"I hope it was worth it, Roger," she interrupts. "I really do. And I hope you find some way to make your bar a success. If that's with , or not, that's not my concern. But I will tell you: you hurt me more than I ever believed it was possible for a person to be hurt. And all your charming ways, all the money you sent, all the alleged desire for me to be proud of you... none of that makes up for it. So I'm done with you. Let me be. Don't call, don't write, don't text, don't email... just let me be."

I want to stand up and applaud her. Instead, I step aside as she exits my office, head held high.

"Guess I really screwed the pooch here, didn't I?" Raj says after a while. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I'm not. It makes me love her even more."

"Love? Son, you can't love her. She's my kid, and I know she's beautiful and brilliant like you wouldn't believe, but you've only known her for a couple of months at best —"

"Don't," I say, channeling every ounce of my father's aristocratic attitude. "Don't call me son. And do not pretend that you know what is in my heart."

I open the door of my office. "You're hardly the example I would choose to draw on."

"I know I fucked up, trying to get Daisy to talk to you on my behalf, but I'm asking for myself now. If you'd just see your way clear to..."

"Get out. And let me make this crystal clear. I won't be helping you. Not with your bar, and not with Daisy. If she wants you back in her life someday, that's between you two. But until then: if you bother her, or hurt her in any way, You'll have no peace. No matter how much or how little money I have, I will use it to break you. Do you understand me?"

Raj stares at me for a long moment. I stare right back, never giving an inch. He gives me a brief nod before walking away.

I rejoin the festivities, mixing and mingling with the crowd of well-wishers and fans. Daisy is there, talking up the wine and the events we offer, as if nothing ever happened, but she's always on the opposite side of the room. I need a moment alone with her. After all, I've told her estranged father that I'm in love with her. I'd better share the news with her as well.

But it seems as if the universe is conspiring to keep us apart. For the rest of the day, I attempt to get near Daisy, but I'm waylaid every time. It's all for a good cause: we auction off several signed bottles, create dozens of posts on social media that get a shocking amount of traction in real time, and end the night with all of our vineyard tours and tastings booked out for a full three months.

None of that could've happened without Daisy. The woman is magnificent. The only reason this opening has gone as well as it has is because she spent the last few months encouraging me to lean into this. I'm not a wine expert; the only thing I brought to the table was the property and whatever bit of fame I have left from my days with Courage. I need to find her and tell her how much she means to me, both personally and professionally, and beg her to stay.

Four hours later, the opening is finally over. I'm utterly wiped and wired at the same time. Leaving the staff and Kel to wrap up, I grab one of the golf carts and drive back over to the house. I can't wait to fall into bed. Hopefully with Daisy at my side.

"Dez?" I call out as soon as I hit the door. There's no answer, but my heart skips several beats when I look down and see a pile of suitcases stacked in the foyer.

"Oh, no. Dez!" I practically run to her room.

She steps out of the doorway, having changed from her fancy skirt suit to jeans and an off the shoulder sweater. She looks perfect, as always.

"Is everything all right?" Concern tightens her brows. "What's going on?"

Now that the moment is here, I'm tongue tied and twisted. I say the only thing I can think of.

"You — you're leaving."

She blinks, like she didn't expect that choice to cause any concern. "My work is done. There's not a reason for me to stay."

"But I need you to." I run a hand through my hair. "You can't expect that a two month program is enough to keep me from being an arsehole. Surely I'll relapse."

"Are you planning on it?"

"Will you stay if I do?"

She starts to speak, but stops, then stops and starts again. She sits down on her bed, and pats the space next to her. I join her, leaving a few inches between us.

"Look, ..."

"Oh, God."

Daisy bursts into laughter. The giddy sound gives me hope.

"Don't be so dramatic," she scolds, the smile still on her lips. "I'm trying to be serious." When I make a zip my lips gesture, she continues.

"I don't like to be — I feel —" she mutters a curse under her breath. "This is hard."

I reach for her hand and squeeze. She holds mine for a long moment. So long I think she's not going to say anything at all.

", I am so sorry that I kept Roger a secret from you. I didn't mean to, not really. I have tried not to be bitter, to let him into my life a little. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to make amends for all the years we didn't talk."

"You don't need to apologize for that. It's not your fault."

"I feel like an idiot, though. I trusted that he really wanted to be part of my life. But the second he found out I was working with you, he kept badgering me about putting him in touch. I was very clear when I said no, but — you see how he is."

"For what it's worth, I got the impression he really is proud of you." She scoffs. "I'm serious. The way he talked about you, he just sounded like a dad. Not like he was trying to use you. So maybe he has both goals. He wanted my help, and he wanted to get to know you again."

She shakes her head as if to say that's not likely, but I notice that her shoulders relax a bit at my words. In spite of the horrid way he treated her, she can't help feeling something for her father. I don't blame her a bit. That open heart is what I love about her.

"I love you." I say.

Daisy gasps at my words. With a shock, I realize I've said them out loud.

"You...love me?"

"Oh, bloody hell." I stand up and start pacing around the room. "That is not what I meant to say."

"So you don't love me?"

"No! I mean yes, I do love you, but I didn't mean to tell you. At least not like that." Oh, sod a dog. I am botching this so hard. Daisy, meanwhile, is having the time of her life.

"Why do I feel like I'm in a nineties rom com all of a sudden?"

"Because I'm an idiot?" She laughs. I get down on my knees in front of her. This was so, so much smoother in my head.

"Okay, I can deal with a confession of affection, but if you're gonna propose, I'll need a minute."

I reach beneath the bed and pull out the guitar case under it. Quickly tightening the pegs and giving it a little tuning, I start playing. Daisy's eyes sparkle with recognition. It's the song I was working on the day she arrived.

Then I begin to sing. About my beautiful Marguerite, my precious Margarida, my darling Margarita… all the different names for the stunning, lovely Daisy.

"..." Tears are flowing down her face, but she's smiling so hard I know her cheeks will ache later.

"It's not finished, obviously. I sent it to Shred yesterday. Told him I wanted to do a one off, if he was interested. I don't think we'll be taking Courage on tour or anything, not with me setting up the winery and all, but we might do a documentary. It'd be a good time to release it."

"It's beautiful," she whispers. "I love that idea."

"Listen, Dez, I have to tell you this Raj was right. I am broke." I sigh. Fuck my life, this is hard as hell to admit.

"Okay."

"I don't know if I'll ever see that money again. I trusted the wrong person, and he screwed me over big time."

"I'm so sorry. It could've happened to anyone."

"I don't know about that, but having it happen to me, the dirty hippie of the family? You can imagine how well that news went over with my parents." She pulls a face. I nod. She gets it.

"My brother Tyler floated me a substantial loan in order to get this place set up and running. He also hooked me up with The Connor Group so I could ‘spread the risk' as they say in investment douchebro land." Ty said it was a gift, but screw him. I will be paying him back with interest. All seven figures of it.

"I didn't want you to know that. I didn't want you to think I'm some na?ve idiot who couldn't even figure out that his accountant was screwing him over."

", that doesn't matter. None of it matters."

"It doesn't?"

"Do you love me or not?"

"I do."

"Good. Because I love you, too. The rest is just noise."

Fuck me. I don't deserve her love. I am not worthy of the trust and tenderness I see in her eyes.

"Daisy, are you sure?" My voice trembles. "We're talking millions of dollars. That's more than noise."

"We just have to be brave, right?" She smiles up at me. "I know you can do that. All you have to do is use a little?—"

"Don't say it," I groan, kissing her fiercely. "Just don't."

She laughs into my mouth, and then our kisses turn serious. For a while, we forget all about the rest of the world.

But she's right. We can figure this out. We'll take this leap together.

All it takes is a little Courage.