Page 39 of Deception & Daylight (Oak Ridge #3)

Mags

? The Alcott - The National (ft. Taylor Swift)

“ W elcome to Willow Creek Inn, how can I help you?” Perched in my usual spot, Lucy’s enthusiastic voice floats through the double doors into the sitting room.

After an agonizing four weeks in her wheelchair at the insistence of Dr. Nate, she’s finally free and her restlessness has abated somewhat with the use of an absolutely gaudy cane covered in vibrant florals.

I freeze when a familiar pompous voice responds tersely to her customary greeting. “I’m looking for my daughter, Maggie Watson.”

“Dad?” My stride is hesitant as I walk into the foyer, spotting the menacing figure of Arthur Watson looming near the front desk.

Though I know the cold emptiness in his eyes all too well, my heart still plummets at the sight of it.

Dressed in his usual bespoke suit, chest puffed out, he meticulously adjusts his diamond cuff link, the glint of the gem catching the light.

“Maggie. You’ve been avoiding my calls, leaving me no choice but tocome to this godforsaken town to wish you a happy birthday.”

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I ask, “You’re here for my birthday?”, my voice laced with disbelief. Aside from a yearly floral delivery from his assistant, I was unaware he even knew the date.

“Among other things.” The fleeting moment of hope is quickly squashed under his pretentious leather oxfords as he makes his intentions clear. “We have several matters to discuss. Not the least of which is you shirking your responsibilities to hide away in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t ask me how I’m doing, not even sparing an ounce of concern for his daughter in the aftermath of her brutal assault. No, that would be far too much to ask from a self-important man like my father.

Over the years, I’ve had a lot of practice concealing my emotions, but these past couple of months have flayed me open in more ways than one, and tamping down the hurt proves a much bigger challenge than I expect.

“Right. Well, I have an appointment I can’t miss, but you’re welcome to join me for dinner tonight. ”

“Here?” He glances around disapprovingly.

“You showed up here. We do this on my terms. We’ll have dinner in the dining room at six o’clock.”

“Fine. Don’t be late.” Having gotten the last word, he strides out of the inn and every emotion I’ve been keeping at bay since he arrived comes flooding to the surface.

Lucy rushes forward as quickly as she can with her limited mobility and pulls me into a one-armed hug.

I rest my head on her shoulder, holding the tears at bay.

I feel her nod and suddenly I’m being spun into two strong arms, one hand cradling my head while the other wraps around my back. “What happened?”

I shake my head, unable to form words, but I don’t have to because Lucy explains for me. “Her dad showed up out of the blue. Said he was here for her birthday, but I got the feeling there’s more to the story. Forgive my crassness, but he seemed like an arrogant ass.”

I huff out watery a laugh. Leave it to Lucy to make everything better with little effort. Reluctantly, I step out of Miles’ embrace. “Understatement of the century.”

“You good?” he asks.

I nod. “I’ll be fine. At least until dinner.” I managed to successfully delay the inevitable, but in a few hours I’ll have to come face to face with reality and draw a line in the sand. My time in Oak Ridge has only solidified my decision to distance myself from my father’s legacy.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I shake my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to subject you to his bullshit.”

He lifts my chin, forcing me to see the sincerity in his eyes. “When are you gonna realize I don’t do anything I don’t want to do?”

“Are you sure?”

Miles tugs my bottom lip free from where I’d been biting it. “Of course. What are boyfriends for it not to run interference?”

Feeling a little of my confidence returning, I smirk, “I can think of a few other things.”

“Ooook,” Lucy interrupts. “I’ll call the caterers. I get the feeling your dad wouldn’t be too keen on my homemade lasagna.”

“Hey! I love your lasagna.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. But let’s not make this any more difficult than it has to be. I can get a delivery from the French place in Willow Valley easily enough.”

“Thank you, Lucy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I pull her into a hug, her warmth a comforting contrast to my father’s chilling demeanor, and it eases some of the pain left behind by his blatant disapproval.

“You just worry about putting that man in his place, my girl. You deserve the world. And a birthday cake. So go on — I have work to do!”

Miles and I are already seated in the dimly lit dining room when Dad strolls into the room. He approaches, standing stoically beside a woman who can’t be much older than I am, her expression pinched and her nose wrinkled up toward the ceiling, a look of utter disdain on her face.

She’s dressed in a black minidress that leaves nothing to the imagination, and the rock on her finger tells me I’m looking at wife number four.

The change in her demeanor is instantaneous; a flicker of disinterest giving way to a sultry gaze directed at Miles, openly betraying her lack of true commitment to my father.

Dad pulls out a seat for his wife, offering her more courtesy in that one gesture than I’ve received in an entire lifetime, before taking his place beside her.

She pushes her breasts together, leaning over the table directly across from Miles, and my possessive side rears its ugly head.

Before I can make a move, Miles is brushing the hair off my forehead and kissing me in a way that simultaneously steals my breath, and breathes life back into me.

“Better?” he whispers. Words suddenly foreign, I nod.

I’ve had a few glasses of wine to prepare for this dinner, and now I’m not so sure if that was a good idea.

Dad clears his throat, interrupting our stolen moment. “Who’s your friend?”

Miles reaches a hand across the table. “I’m Miles Barlow, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dad’s gaze flicks to Miles' extended hand, but he ignores the gesture. “You must be what’s keeping my daughter so distracted. Figures.”

Miles responds without missing a beat. “I don’t know about that, sir. But I adore your daughter. Honestly, I’m just honored she’s giving me the time of day.” Miles smiles that devastating smile that makes my knees weak, but it goes unreciprocated.

Dad scoffs. “I’m sure you adore what my daughter can do for you. She’s a Watson, after all.”

I slam my hand down on the table with more force than I intend. Sending the utensils clattering against the surface. “Dad. Don’t be rude.”

Miles places his hand over mine, smoothing his thumb along my palm. “It’s ok. I’ll be right back with another bottle of wine.” He kisses my cheek and heads towards the kitchen.

As Miles disappears around the corner, I straighten my spine and pin my father with a glare. “Why don’t we cut to the chase and you can tell me all the ways I’ve failed to live up to the Watson name.”

I steal a glance at the dark-haired woman perched across from me, her brief appraisal finding me lacking. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Maggie. The disappointment.”

“Margaret. Bite your tongue. Katerina is my wife and you’d do well to remember that.”

Right. Of course he’d defend his wife over me. Having a daughter has never meant shit to this man. I wasn’t even invited to the wedding; not that I would’ve attended. “No. I think I’ve done enough of that over the years, don’t you?”

“What has gotten into you? It seems the attack has knocked a few screws loose.” I suck in a ragged breath, blinking rapidly. Dad doesn’t know the extent of what happened to me — he doesn’t know I was brutally violated — but that still doesn’t excuse his cruelty.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Miles comes to stand beside me, his hand gently gripping on my shoulder, anger radiating off him in waves as he slams the bottle of wine down on the table. The loud crash startles me, the sound echoing through the room, but to my surprise, it doesn’t shatter.

Dad’s eyes flick between us, upper lip curling in distaste. “It’s time to come home. You have to start taking your life seriously.”

“I think you mean it’s time I start living up to your expectations and prepare to give up everything I care about to carry on your legacy.” I grip Miles’ hand, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Dad’s jaw ticks and I can tell my words are getting to him. “Semantics. Either you come home and prepare to take your rightful place as CEO, or I’ll cut you off and you can fend for yourself.”

Without a second of hesitation, I bite back. “Good. Cut me off.”

He scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t last a day without your trust fund.”

“That’s where you're wrong. I haven’t touched a penny of your money since I graduated college. Check the accounts. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

He dismisses that little bombshell with a wave but the fury in his eyes betrays him. “Your mother would be so disappointed in you.”

I stand abruptly, stepping up to my father who, to his credit, doesn’t falter for a moment, his arrogant facade remaining firmly in place.

“Don’t you fucking dare. You have no right to throw that in my face.

” I never knew my mother, but based on the stories I’ve heard, she was a kind woman and far too good for the man who contributed t he other half of my DNA.