Page 184 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“You’ll make it up to me.”

“Don’t ever doubt it.”

“Cross, it’s you I never doubt. Only you.”

“First of all, that’s mighty fucking bold of you to assume—”

“I’m assuming fuck all,” Cross interjected. “What I am doing is giving you a heads up about my intentions, and nothing more.”

Catherine stepped into the doorway of her father’s office, making her presence known. She had only heard the final bit of the conversation as she rounded the top of the stairs, and figured it was probably wise of her to step in.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Two pairs of eyes turned on her.

One green, familiar, and family—her father.

The other, dark, lovely and all hers—Cross.

“No,” Cross said, “there’s no problem, Catty.”

Dante looked like he was biting his inner cheek before repeating Cross’s sentiment.

“I didn’t know you were back from Chicago already,” Catherine said.

Cross shrugged, and turned his back to her father. “Flight landed while you were still in school. I had some paperwork to sign when I got in, and then I headed over here. Figured I would surprise you. Surprise.”

Catherine’s gaze darted to her father. “And nothing is wrong?”

Dante sighed heavily. “Cross and I disagree on some things, but that’s to be expected, I think. Considering.”

“Considering what?”

“That you are not his daughter,” Dante murmured.

“And what’s to disagree about?” she asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Cross replied, never taking his gaze off Catherine. “But I think we’ve settled it’s not for us to argue about, anyway.”

Catherine frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t argue at all.”

It seemed her father and Cross would never see eye to eye on anything at all, especially where she was concerned. Catherine knew that was a lot of her doing because of things she had done that put Cross in bad situations in her father’s view, and other things she didn’t do—like tell the truth when she needed to.

Truthfully, Catherine figured it wouldn’t matter because her father would never entirely believe any man was right for her. Wasn’t that how all fathers were with their daughters?

“And we’re done arguing, as he said,” Dante said, shaking his head. “So, it’s Friday, no school tomorrow. I think Cross said he owed you something special for missing your birthday, yes?”

Cross nodded.

Catherine eyed him curiously. “Special like what?”

“Broadway Theater happens to be running one of your favorites.”

Her heart stopped. “Romeo and Juliet?”

“You know it.”