Page 22 of The Cupcake Standard

His large hand stroked my hair.

“My senior year, her manager scheduled her a huge book tour, a six-month thing.” Resentment hit me, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “She demanded I go with her, told my dad, ‘You’ve had her for eleven years. It’s my turn.’ I didn’t get a prom or spring break or graduation.” A tear leaked out.

Derek tightened his hold, squeezing me against him. He ran his other hand down my hair, over and over.

“I was excited to go at first, but I didn’t realize I’d be constantly judged. I’ve always been curvy and taller than most people.” My lips twisted into a wry smile. I didn’t want to be petted, so I sat up, steeling myself against the memories. “The beginning of that tour amplified all my insecurities. It was awful.”

I remembered begging to go home, but my mom just said whatever didn’t kill me would make me stronger. “Her assistant, Trish, showed me how to dress for my body type, taught me the art of makeup. I survived because of her.” I raised my chin. “My makeup, clothes, heels became my armor. I figured out how to push back just right. It was sink or swim out there.”

“And you came home with all your limbs intact.” Admiration shone in his face as he studied me. “Just like today.”

I nodded, a lump appearing in my throat as I geared up for the next part. “But when I got home, so excited to see Daddy after being away for months—” My voice broke, and I swallowed. “He was watching TV, and I called out to him, waiting for his eyes to light up, for him to rush over and sweep me in his arms.” I shook my head. “But he didn’t know who I was.” My words were wobbly, my throat thick. “My own dad had no idea who I was. And it wasn’t the hair or the makeup.”

That first stare of blankness had been terrifying, but not as scary as the anger that had followed. My voice lowered to little more than a whisper. “He threw a mug at me, screaming at me to get out of his house.”

“Avery…” Derek’s arms cradled me, pulling me back to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

I sniffed, laying my cheek on his shoulder and gripping his shirt in one hand to ground myself. “I ran to Mother, thinking she’d know what to do.” I’d flung open the backseat of the Town Car. “Only to find her agent on top of her in the backseat of the car. She’d been cheating on my dad the whole time. When I told her about Daddy, she brushed me off, saying she’d known.” I clenched my jaw, seeing red for a second as the memory washed over me.

Mother stood up from the backseat, straightening her jacket. “Yes, he has a rapid onset of Alzheimer’s. Why do you think I insisted you come with me on this tour? I couldn’t leave you alone with him.”

I let out a shaky breath. “She knew the whole time what she was doing. Not once on that tour did she mention it, not once did she prepare me for what I’d be going home to. She stole that time from me, and I can never get it back.” The tears coursed down my cheeks then, thinking how Daddy was lost to me forever.

Derek held me tightly as I sobbed, rocking side to side in a minuscule motion that soothed me.

Mother had started sending her gifts shortly after that, but she’d never apologized. Daddy lived in one little room of her huge house with his caregiver and Patty for socialization. I kept trying to tell Mother about treatment options, specialized facilities, different doctors who were trained in proven techniques, but she had the power to decide since she was his wife. And her image, her career, was more important to her than Daddy’s quality of life.

My tears finally quieted.

“Oh, Avery.” Derek sighed. “I wish I could do something.”

“You are.” My cheek rested against his shoulder. My chest was flush against his, each breath pressing my breasts against his firmness. I sat on his lap, his muscular legs beneath me, supporting me. One of his warm, large hands splayed across my back, almost protectively. It was the most intimate moment I’d had in over a year.

So, of course, Liam knocked at the door then, poking his head in. “All clear?”

“I’m fine, Liam,” I called. I swiped at my cheeks, moving to stand up, but Derek tightened his grip, keeping me there for an extra beat. I patted his chest, reassuring him I was okay, then hopped off him. “No more tears.”

Liam picked up his whiskey and took a sip, then wiped his brow in an overly relieved motion.

Derek came to stand behind me, and I leaned against him. My stomach growled. “What’s for dinner?”

“You’re hungry? You just came from lunch.”

I pushed off him. “Have you seen the size of those portions? Here, have a steak.” I held my fingers in a tiny circle. “Mashed potatoes?” The size of a pea.

He chuckled. “All right, all right. How about subs?”

“Perfect.” After we’d figured out what we each wanted, I hurried to the living room. An idea had been flitting around in my head, and now was the perfect time to put it into action. Especially since I needed to catch Liam alone. “I need your phone number.”

“What? No!”

I gave him my dirtiest look. “Don’t flatter yourself. I missed Derek’s birthday last week and want to throw him a surprise party. So give me your number. I have questions!”

Light finally dawned in his eyes as I shoved my phone toward him. I snatched it back just as Derek finished ordering.

He plopped down between us on the couch, stretching his arms out across the full length of the back. “Now what?”

I grinned. “Either of you like to play cards?”

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