Page 14 of Unforgettable
Arlene Long Hale, former Miss Nevada, bleach blond hair, Botox lips, fake breasts, and a scowl that would scare away a puppy. “Haven.” Her voice was sweet and salty, heavier on the salt. “So good to see you.”
Liar.
Be nice, Haven.
I swallowed all the cuss words streaming through my brain. “Arlene.” I brushed past her and into the foyer, which reminded me of the mansion inGone with the Wind,my mom’s favorite movie. “Where’s my dad?”
Baxter, her white Maltese, came trotting in, wagging his tail.
I went to pet him, but Arlene snagged the dog as though I were about to poison her baby. “Your father is out back, finishing up lunch. Roya will bring you some food.”
“No, thanks. I’m not staying long.” I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary.
I started for the veranda when she said, “Your father and I can’t have any distractions with elections around the corner.”
I stiffened, not turning to look at her. “Good to know I’m a distraction.”
Her heels clicked on the shiny, white tiled floor until she was facing me. “What you were doing in that photo was inappropriate for a young lady.”
And what I found my father doing behind your back was equally inappropriate.But I dared not voice that out loud unless my father pushed me to my limit. I might not out him to the press, but I had no problem hurting Arlene.
Keep walking.
My legs came unglued as I meandered through the house. My flats pounded on the floor as I passed the palatial rooms on both sides that faced the wall of windows overlooking a stone veranda.
My father read from his iPad with a glass of whiskey on the table. The French doors were open, allowing the hot summer breeze to flow in. My father preferred the heat and humidity to an air-conditioned space, which was odd since Arlene hated the Texas heat. But my father ruled with an iron fist, and as much as Arlene came off as a hardcore bitch, she didn’t go against my father. What he wanted, he got.
I kissed my father on the cheek, set my purse down on the granite tabletop, then eased into one of the thick-cushioned chairs beside him.
He studied me as he exchanged his iPad for the whiskey. “You look good.”
I arched an eyebrow, regarding my lookalike. We both had red hair, although my father’s color was brighter than mine. He also had more freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks than me.
“I’m listening,” I countered. He wanted something. He hardly complimented me.
His green gaze roamed over my face. “You do take after me.”
I let out a small laugh. “You’re just now coming to that conclusion?” As much as I hated some of his qualities, I wouldn’t deny we were much alike. “So what do you want that you didn’t want to tell me on the phone?” If I knew my father, he wanted to see my body language when he delivered whatever news he had on his mind.
“I want you to move back home,” he said. “Arlene has your room ready.”
I popped up. “No, thank you.”
He caught my wrist. “Sit.” His tone permitted no argument.
Smart man.
If he had told me that on the phone, I would’ve hung up on him. Regardless, I obeyed. I kept my posture straight, head up, and shoulders back. I schooled as much of my ire as I could. As much as fighting with him was fun at times, I wasn’t in the mood.
“You don’t trust me to keep my end of the bargain,” I said more than asked.
He sipped his whiskey. “Frankly, I don’t. Your behavior so far has been embarrassing.”
“I beg to differ. Who do you have following me? Is she one of your conquests?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the open door. “I have my resources.”
Oh, I was certain he did. “Blond, big boobs. Ring a bell? Just so you know, she’s sleeping with Ryker.”
