Page 17 of Delicate Storm

Ready? I’ve been ready since the day I arrived.

The time between me finally agreeing to move and me packing up my entire life was a lot shorter than Dad had anticipated. The second I agreed to his offer to join him here, he bought me an apartment in the same building as his, but then he decided to have it renovated to include some of the luxuries he thought I couldn’t live without—like a steam shower and a walk-in closet. Neither essential but offers I’d never say no to.

Because of that, I’ve been living with dear ole Dad while they finish. And now it’s done.

I get my own space again. I’m free. Within the restraints of living in the same building as the man that half raised me.

“I was born ready.” I smile wide, making him scoff in return.

“Come on, I don’t cramp your style that much.”

“You don’t,” I agree.For the most part he was working.“But I like my own space.”

Despite only just turning twenty-five, I’ve lived on my own for over six years.

I love my mom, but she can be a handful, and she knows it. Plus, she practically kicked me out by presenting me with the deed to her old Fifth Avenue apartment when I turned eighteen. I suppose I could have had a friend move in, so I wasn’t alone, but I liked the solace. That apartment was the only place I was able to truly be me.

“I get it. I would have done anything to have lived by myself at eighteen,” Dad notes and it’s my turn to scoff.

“You were only twenty, Dad. You weren’t that much older.”

“I know, but I worked hard for that apartment. Plus…a lot can happen in two years.”

“I worked hard too. I grew up being raised by you and Mom; I deserve more than an apartment.”

“You’re right. You deserve two. And now you have them. One in New York and one in San Francisco. And you say you’re not spoiled.”

“I never said that. I’m well aware that I am. And I graciously thank you for it. But I promise I have plans to start paying you back as soon as I’ve got my footing again. I could afford to move out now and live somewhere a little lessextravagant, but I know you want me close, so I made the sacrifice.”

Dad bites back a grin. “What a darling daughter you are.”

“Always.”

I’m sunshine and lollipops until I have the keys in my hand and it all becomes real. I’m making a home here. In San Francisco. When I always assumed I’d end out my days in New York.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Dad says, cutting into my thoughts as I stare down at the new life sitting in my palms.

“That may be true, but it feels wrong.”

“You need to put New York behind you and focus on your life here. It’s going to be a big year, and the D’Angelo Foundation needs you.”

“Momneeds me.” I may not have lived at home, but I saw her every other day. I may complain about her constantly, but we were close.

“She doesn’t need you. She pretends to need people so they don’t leave. Trust me, this will be good for her. And you.”

“You don’t have to be an asshole. You loved her once.”

“Once? Paige, honey, Istilllove her. And I have no doubt I’ll love that woman until I’m old and gray. She’s the one that walked away, remember?”

My heart seizes but I ignore it. “That may be true, but you love your work more. Always have.”

“Not all of us earn money simply by breathing, Paige.” His words sting. I know he’s talking about Mom, but I was born into money all the same. On both sides. Yes, my father worked hard for his, but at the end of the day, it’s still money thatI’llget ‘simply by breathing.’

“You didn’t exactly come from nothing,” I snap, a little embarrassed. “You weren’t broke. Grandpa would roll over in his grave if he heard you saying that. And you know I’m in the same situation, right?”

“Wrong.”

“Wrong?”

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