Page 73 of His Choice

“But your clubs…they aren’t sex dens, are they?” Mikey’s father asked. “You know, like some people are writing on social media?”

After my jaw dropped, I shook my head. “They aren’t. I’ve taken my mother to them.” Of course, had they met my mother, they might have thought my comment supported their fears.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you aren’t just looking for a good time,” his mother cut in. “Mikey seems to like you based on how he’s nervous around you.”

Mikey’s father nodded. “It was the way Mikey’s mother was with me—when she still loved me like that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop. If I weren’t still in love with you, would I put up with you?”

He chuckled. “And she’s still the love of my life, too. That’s what we want for our son.”

“Mikey deserves nothing less,” I agreed.

After ending the call, I decided that I liked Mikey’s parents, despite not agreeing with all their views. They were doing their best to support their son, and I believed they would embrace the man who’d treat Mikey the way he should be. As I pictured that man being me, it made me feel good—though envisioning family get-togethers where Mikey’s parents and my mother would need to interact made me cringe.

My last call was with Brighton’s daughter, Clara. I was most nervous about that conversation. If I were to ask Brighton to start dating, it would be with the understanding that his daughter is part of the package. She had to like me, or any potential relationship would be dead on arrival.

When Clara appeared on the screen, my first thought was that she must favor her mother. Unlike Brighton, her hair was dark brown and her face more rounded. Like her dad, though, she had pretty, blue eyes and a smile that seemed genuine.

“Hello, Clara,” I greeted. “I’m very happy to meet you. Your father told me a lot about you.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied with a giggle. “People tell me all the time that he prattles on when I’m the subject of conversation. I promise he’s typically on the quiet side and quite modest about all things other than me.”

I chuckled in return. “I enjoyed every bit of our conversation. Your father’s face brightens when he speaks of you. It’s lovely. From everything he’s told me, he has every reason to be proud. He mentioned you’ll be moving to Vermont?”

“I was accepted at Burlington College, yes,” she replied. “I’d still go home to see my mum on breaks, of course. But otherwise, I’d be staying in a dormitory in Burlington. It’s a quaint city.”

“It is. It’s not too far from White Pines. If your dad was here, he’d be able to visit all the time,” I pointed out.

She laughed. “I love Daddy. But all the time is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. You’d probably need to set boundaries. I’m not sure he’d be able to stop himself otherwise,” I joked.

“Quite. So, you believe you and Daddy might be a match?” she wondered.

I nodded. “It’s possible. I like him very much. He strikes me as responsible, level-headed, intelligent…”

She grinned. “Mr. Walker, you’re not hiring my father to be your financial advisor. I’m nearing eighteen years old. You can speak freely of a romantic spark, if there is one.”

“Well, I was going to get to that part,” I fibbed. “Um, yes. I am attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? He’s a successful male model for a reason. But it is more than that. He’s mature, graceful, dignified—characteristics that appeal to me. Most importantly, he seems kind. He showed empathy toward other contestants instead of trashing them behind their backs. And he’s confident in himself. I can tell that if I didn’t choose him, it would be, at most, a temporary disappointment. He knows who he is and what he’s worth. Frankly, I could learn from him.”

“You seem self-assured, from what I’ve seen,” she remarked. “And you certainly have reason to be. As soon as I saw the solicitation for the program, I told Daddy that he needed to investigate. I knew he’d appreciate all the charitable work you’ve done, that you’re a self-made man like him, and that you have movie-star good looks.”

I flushed. “Thanks.”

She leaned closer to the computer camera. “Don’t let my father fool you into thinking he’s so calm, cool, and collected. He was quite taken with you once he saw your photographs. He was more nervous than I’ve ever seen him after he was accepted as a contestant. He’s been asking me for advice. He feared you’d find him too old or too…British.”

“Too British?”

She shrugged. “Stereotypical British, I suppose. Proper, stiff, uneffusive.”

I contemplated that. “Maybe he is those things a bit, but I don’t see them as negatives. I believe a better way to describe him would be gentlemanly, thoughtful and measured. I love that about him. None of those characteristics make him unapproachable. When we were alone together, I was as comfortable with him as I’ve been with people I’ve known for years. He was very open with his feelings. That was nice. I imagine even when you and he have a disagreement, it is constructive and nonconfrontational, devoid of sarcasm and gamesmanship.” Unlike how arguments are with my mother, bless her heart.

“Frustratingly so,” she replied with a laugh. “His opinions are difficult to change. Sometimes when we disagree, I want to yell and be irrational with him.”

I snickered at that. “If he and I connect and he begins to hang out with my mother and my friends, he’ll get a large dosage of craziness.”

“It would do him well to be pushed from his comfort zone,” she said, affection in her voice despite the criticism. “I hope you two do connect. It would be wonderful to have my father here in the States, and I believe he’s long overdue to find love. I won’t bore you with all the reasons I adore Daddy. You’ll discover them soon enough if you choose him.”