"Sure. It's just not your norm. I thought you'd be busy."
"Never too busy for my sweet daughter." Reaching out, he hesitated before placing his hand on my arm. I followed his action with my gaze, blinking several times. "I know. There are some things we need to talk about. Will you be ready in an hour?"
I knew the other shoe was about to fall but he wasn't going to give me the opportunity to object. "One hour. I can do that."
"That's great. I'll have the car pulled around." He started to turn away then stopped short. "Oh, and wear something nice. We're going to the club."
The club? I shivered at the thought. Stuffy. Arrogant. Assholes. "I will." When I closed the door, I leaned against it, my eyes drawn back to the iPad. A terrible feeling pooled into the pit of my stomach. The basic chitchat on the way to the club was also unusual for my father. He actually asked about my job search, as if I'd tell him anything. I skirted the issue, describing a few interviews, lying about others. My father and I hadn't been close since before my mother's death. I had no intentions of getting any closer now.
Every few seconds, Dominick's startling words filtered into my mind. I couldn't get away from the sultry visions, the way he'd taken absolute control. Granted, the few boyfriends I'd had over the last few years had been nothing to write home about. They'd all wanted a piece of my father's pie instead of giving a shit about me. Was everyone greedy?
"Here we are. I'm surprised you wore black, Caroline. You know I hate that color," he huffed before climbing out of the car.
That's exactly why I wore a black, form-fitting dress, complete with dark hose and the highest heels I owned. What he really wanted to say was the look wasn't befitting a senator's daughter. I snickered at the thought as we walked in, disgusted by all the well-wishers and suck-ups, literally drooling as they shook my father's hand. By the time we reached our table in the sunroom, very much alone in the corner, I'd lost my appetite.
I noticed the table was set for three. The red flags quickly flew in the wind. How many times had my father attempted to hook me up with some politician's son, prickly faced peons who were mere shadows of their respective fathers? My anger swelled.
The waiter quickly approached and when my father ordered a very expensive bottle of merlot, my hackles were raised, my instinct telling me to run far away. The waiter left the silverware and the third wineglass.
"Is someone joining us for lunch, Father?"
He ignored me, infuriating me even more. "You do understand that my decision to run for office is very important."
"I've heard that more than once, Father."
"You don't have to have an attitude. I've worked long and hard for this," he hissed under his breath, looking right and left.
But never in my eyes.
We sat silently until the wine was poured, my father waving his hand at the waiter who attempted to get our order. "Give us time," he barked. "I'll motion for you when we're ready."
Why did I have the feeling he wanted to say 'if' we were ready to order?
"You haven't touched your wine, Caroline." His comment was laced with a hint of arrogance, as if I would dare not to partake in his choice of wine.
"Why are we here, Father?"
He looked more uncomfortable than before. I even noticed a line of sweat beading along his hairline. My father never perspired, never cared enough about anything to be upset in any manner.
"We need to have a serious talk." His voice was hushed. Even though the closest table was a solid thirty feet away, his words were said with angst. This was a very private conversation.
"Who is it this time, your attorney's son? Or perhaps the doctor you visit infrequently?" I asked with disdain, grabbing the wine. My fingers were white-knuckled as I attempted to take a sip, ready to launch the entire contents into his face.
His expression was benign, although the sweat continued to pool over the top of his lip. He took a sip of his drink, taking the time to place his napkin in his lap. "There are things in our lives that we can't avoid."
"Such as?"
"Paying our dues."
The comment wasn't what I expected. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I've done some things in my life I'm not proud of, Caroline. I suspect we all have."
My thoughts drifted to Dominick's words. Had they actually been a warning of some kind? "What does that have to do with me?"
"Everything." He signed, looking out the window. "I loved your mother more than life itself. She was my everything."
"You hated each other, Father. Don't give me any bullshit!"
"Watch your language!" he snapped, immediately recoiling. "I'm sorry. I'm on edge. Everything has gotten way out of hand."
"What are you getting at?" I realized my legs were trembling as I asked the question.
"All I ever wanted to do was provide a good life for your mother and for you. I've tried, sacrificing almost everything in order to do so." He hesitated as if I was going to respond. I'd heard the speech before. "In doing so, I've crossed certain lines. I've tried to be a good man."
Sighing, I sat back in my seat, still holding the wine.
He laughed, the sound bitter. "I was caught in several lies and in order to find my way back to salvation, I had to make the most difficult decision of my life."
"Can we cut to the chase?" I heard the nastiness in the single word, the ugly hiss following and didn't bother chastising myself. I had no doubt he was going to do that himself.
But he didn't.
He said silently for a full minute, his eyes more haunting than ever. When he reached over, taking my hand into his, I fought not to yank it away. Goosebumps appeared on my arms, a clear sign that whatever he was going to tell me was horrible. "I do love you, Caroline, and I want the best for you."
"I can fend for myself."