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Not good. Eddie knew Sam, and he knew when his brother suspected something was amiss—which was almost never, considering Sam often struggled to identify and respond to human emotional responses in the first place. His brother was more machine than man sometimes, which meant that his focus on one particular matter that confused him could be all-encompassing, and he wouldn't let go until he had found a satisfactory explanation. If he thought something was off about Eddie, then he would investigate—and probably enlist Trinity along the way.

Eddie was eventually able to excuse himself to the bar for a drink, but the moment a cocktail waitress planted one down in front of him, he knew he wouldn't consume it. His stomach still churned with acid at the memory of last night's bender. He pushed the drink to the girl sitting beside him, ignored her expectant look, and signaled for a soda instead. The girl walked off with his drink as he took a long, appreciative sip of bar ginger ale. His stomach cooled, and he began turning over plans for how to duck out early.

His designs were interrupted as soon as he felt a pair of heavy eyes on him. Eddie turned on his stool.

Jonathan Daley—Margot's father—was staring at him from across the bar.

Of fucking course Jonathan would be in attendance. Hadn't Eddie sent him the invitation? Still, he’d been so preoccupied with Margot that the possibility of running into her father had completely escaped him until that moment.

For as long as Eddie had known him, Jonathan Daley had been a devoted family man—if a somewhat absent one. He was the owner of Daley Flights, a major airline company, so it made sense that he led a jet setting lifestyle that often left his wife and only daughter behind at home. He looked as if he could be a pilot himself: he was tall, good-looking and physically fit for his age, with a full head of short-cropped, distinguished white hair that made him stand out in any room. The hair was the first thing that Eddie recognized.

Jonathan inclined his head, and Eddie returned the subtle gesture with a nod of his own. Margot's father concluded the conversation he was having with a smile and crossed the room to meet him.

"Well, Eddie." Jonathan raised his beer in salutation and sat down without further invitation. Eddie shifted sideways needlessly to let him know he was welcome. "What do you intend to do about this situation?"

No segue. No real greeting or beating around the bush. No hour-long conversation spent digging for clues as to whether or not Mr. Daley wanted to bring it up. Eddie bit down on his tongue to keep it from wagging: what situation?

"Mr. Daley," he greeted. "I know you like a man who's always thinking ten steps ahead. And I just want you to know that I'm already planning for the future. Our future. I've already started doing research so Margot won't feel like she's alone in the planning process. In fact, I'm hoping to take most of it off her plate so she can focus on staying happy and healthy."

Eddie was privately pleased with the way he laid out his plans. He sounded self-assured; in-control; mature. He sounded completely unlike himself.

Though a part of him hated to think it, he sounded like his father.

If that really was the case, then maybe he risked presenting himself as too emotionally removed. Eddie leaned in a little, orbiting Jonathan's personal space without invading it. He pitched his voice lower. "Mr. Daley, I want you to know that I...I've always cared for Margot. More than I ever let on."

Jonathan leaned back a little—not to get away, Eddie thought, but to get a better look at him. He felt encouraged enough to continue. "I intend to ask her out officially the next time I see her. It's up to her, of course, whether or not she wants to date me, but I want to be involved in her life. And in the baby's life. Officially."

Jonathan barked a laugh, and some of the tension eased out of Eddie. He grinned as well, even if he didn't know what exactly they were laughing about. Maybe Mr. Daley was surprised by the fact that he had just stated his intentions, or maybe he was laughing with relief at Eddie's offer. Had they really expected him to not want to be involved in Margot's life?

"Oh, I think you can do better than that," Jonathan said. He clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and took a sip of his beer.

Eddie blinked in confusion. "I can?"

Was it just him, or did the pressure of Jonathan Daley's fingers increase at his question?

"I certainly hope so," Jonathan said. "Because rest assured, that's not how I was envisioning things were going to happen between the two of you. I don't want you to date my daughter, Eddie. I think the time for courtship has long since passed."

"I…" Eddie didn't know what to say. So Jonathan didn't want him to try and start over with Margot? "I thought you would approve," he said.

"What I would approve of, Eddie, is you marrying my daughter." Jonathan's eyes lasered in on Eddie as Eddie choked. "And so would my wife."

"Marry Margot…?" The idea was terrifying. Not because Margot wasn't the type of woman he would want to marry. Actually, whenever Eddie had pictured himself settling down with a woman, he had always talked himself out of it by weighing that woman's traits against Margot's. Marrying Margot made sense, and he was surprised he hadn't thought about it more before now—but he was also privately alarmed that it had taken her father's interference to get him thinking along those lines. He felt like the situation was already spinning out of his control

"Leslie and I are what you call 'traditional'," Jonathan offered. He clapped Eddie on the shoulder again before pulling his hand back; he had kept a firm hold on him this entire time. "But not so traditional as to need the usual amount of time to plan things out. A few months should do the trick. After you propose, of course."

"Propose?" Eddie echoed hollowly.

"Why, sure!" Jonathan Daley's amiable laugh came again. "You know how to ask for a girl's hand, don't you? Maybe you can skip the sweeping gestures for the sake of expediency, hm? But an engagement ring wouldn't come amiss."

Eddie's throat silently worked as he processed all that Margot's father was saying. He knew negotiation; this was no negotiation. Jonathan fully expected him to follow the plan as outlined. "What if she says no?" he asked.

"Well then." Jonathan shrugged. "Margot has every right to refuse, of course. But then, I suppose you have every incentive to make sure she answers otherwise, don't you?" Jonathan's gaze was unflinching despite his casual tone, and Eddie felt caught in a steel trap. "I don't need to tell you that I have a multi-million dollar contract with your agency. I've stuck with you all this time to honor my commitment

to your father...but the contract's coming up soon. I have no problem taking my business elsewhere, Eddie."

Eddie's throat was too dry to respond. He tried to summon up the lubrication to swallow; when none came, he settled for taking a long sip of his drink.

"Cheer up," Jonathan advised him. "Margot will say yes. After all, it would appear you certainly know how to be persuasive when it comes to matters involving my daughter, don't you, Eddie?"

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