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“Remember I said that me and Dominic’s business didn’t work out? It was worse than that. He’s had me in limbo since we broke up. I thought he wanted me to buy him out, but now I don’t know what his game is.”
“What’s that, honey?”
The fact that her father couldn’t hear her over the music set her free to spill even more.
“Dominic just showed up and he wants something from me, and I don’t trust myself to do the right thing. Not about anything. Even Jason. I’m worried that Dominic messed me up so much that I can’t love anyone ever again.”
On the other end of the phone, the music swelled even louder.
“I can’t hear you, princess. I gotta go, they can’t play ‘Lakeside Blues’ without me.”
“I love you!” she said, squeezing it in before the call ended.
Her heart ached. She tucked her phone into her pocket and wiped off her sweaty hands.
Even a daddy’s girl reached a point where she had to figure out her own life.
Dominic was waiting for her outside, scrolling on his phone. Be practical, she told herself. At the least, she should find out what he wanted, what had inspired him to journey across an ocean and half a continent to see her. That was the logical thing to do.
Feeling more like herself, she touched up her lipstick—her favorite shade of red—and got out of the car.
“I wanted to open the door for you.” Dominic practically pouted that she’d done it herself.
“Of course, because that’s the kind of chivalrous thing men do after they’ve destroyed your business and sabotaged your next job.”
“You got your sass back. I guess you’re wide awake now.”
Behind him, light spilled from the Loon Feather Bistro’s windows. It occurred to her that the parking lot was emptier than usual. Looking around, she said, “Where is everyone?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” His smug expression told her he had something up his sleeve.
Sure enough, as soon as she stepped inside, she knew what he’d done. All the other guests had been seated in one section of the restaurant, leaving the best corner unoccupied, waiting for them. “You booked that entire section?”
“I set it up while you were napping.”
“And the phone call to book a table?”
“Fake. I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s a dramatic apology gesture.”
Manipulation. But a sweet one? She couldn’t decide. Damn it. She hated feeling indecisive.
“Come on.” He put a hand on her lower back, but she shook him off.
“I’ll listen to your apology, but don’t touch me.”
With a shrug, he led her to the only table set for dinner in the private corner section. A crystal vase held a bouquet of her favorite yellow roses. Tall taper candles softly flickered, illuminating the rose petals scattered across the tablecloth. The soft jazz playing in the background made her think of her father and his rowdy group of improvisers.
It all looked so romantic. Too romantic.
He caught her expression. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to propose. This is an apology dinner.”
Making a gallant gesture out of it, he pulled out her chair for her. She sat down, feeling more like a sack of potatoes than a lady at a dinner table. She should have changed into a better outfit. Then again, why did it matter when hardly anyone was here to see them?
After he’d settled into the chair across from her, he pulled out his phone and turned in his chair to take a selfie. “Love the lipstick,” he said as he snapped the photo—him in the foreground, her in the background.
He hadn’t asked her permission before taking that shot. Why did he need a photo and where did he plan to post it?
She reached across the table, grabbed his phone, deleted the photo, then handed it back with her best killer smile. “Dominic, I’m going to need you to cut the crap and tell me what you’re scheming.”
