Page 113 of Sweet Caroline
I frown, darting a quick glance Caroline’s way before focusing back on the TV. “You said until the election.”
“I did, didn’t I?” I can hear the asshole smiling like he just remembered that tiny detail. But I know, like a damn elephant, this fuckwad never forgets. “I have to give you credit, though,” hedrawls. “You did what I asked you to. You and Caroline seem to have gotten pretty cozy together.”
“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” I can’t help the sharp edge in my voice.
“Yes, well.” It’s one of those responses that says it all without saying much of fucking anything. He gives me a look of low-grade disgust and sucks his teeth. “Maybe a little too cozy.”
“It’s none of your business howcozywe are.”
“Ah, Miles, that’s where you’re wrong.”
My teeth grind together involuntarily, and I work to keep my tone even when I speak. “Ever thought about letting Caroline decide what she does with her life?”
God, I need a fucking drink.
The familiar thought floats easily—too easily—into my mind as my eyes fall to the empty whiskey glass in Pete’s hand.
He shakes his head as if the idea isn’t worth contemplating. “Don’t mistake a few weeks of playing house with my daughter for knowing what’s in her best interest.”
I shouldn’t let his comment sting, but it burrows under my skin anyway.A few weeks of playing house.I know it’s been more than that. To meandto her.
“I’ve indulged this little rebellious phase of hers for too long,” Pete says, almost to himself, training his gaze on the TV screen across the room.
“Rebellious phase?” I ask, almost laughing. “She’s twenty-eight.”
Christ, everything out of this man’s mouth is laced with privileged dickhead judgment.
“All the more reason for her to quit acting like a teenager so she can get her life back on track.”
“What are you talking about? She has a life in Lennox.”
He tilts his head, regarding me with amusement. “Now, Miles, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were hoping to be a partof my daughter’s life. But you wouldn’t have forgotten yourself, would you?” He inches closer, lowering his voice. “Wouldn’t have forgotten the terms of our deal?”
“Our deal?” I echo, trying to keep my voice down. “Don’t make it sound like I willingly signed up for this.”
He ignores my comment. “It’d be foolish, wouldn’t it? To fall for a woman you can’t have?”
I huff out a breath, trying to hide the way his words kick me squarely in the chest. Is there anything worse than someone you despise beingright?
“My daughter deserves fine wines and penthouse suites, Miles.” He stares me down, scrutinizing me. “And we both know you’re more of a…tacos and arcadeskind of guy. Isn’t that right?”
I knew he’d been keeping tabs on us—through the press and by God only knows what other means.
“You don’t even know her.” The words feel thin on my tongue. Pathetic. Maybe I’m the one acting like a teenager.
He tilts his head like that’s debatable. “Well, starting tomorrow, you certainly won’t.”
My neck heats, every shred of decency I’ve worked to build suddenly draining from my body, replaced by a white-hot rage and the overwhelming impulse to punch that smug look right off Pete Brennan’s face. “What’s your problem with me?”
“Pete!” Valerie appears at her husband’s side, smoothing her short gray hair. “The reporter from Cascade News wants a quick interview in about five.”
“Excellent.” Pete quickly lacquers on a phony mask as his gaze drops to his empty glass, then he looks up at me again, placing a hand to his chest. “Goodness, where are my manners? I haven’t offered you a drink, Miles.”
Shit. No.
“Uh, I don’t?—”
The room erupts in cheers and back-patting as the newsupdate reveals a small surge of Brennan votes, and a camera operator pans around the room, capturing the delighted reactions of Pete’s lackeys.
