Page 30 of The Bargain (Dalton Family #2)

Chapter Thirty

Sofia

I ’m not telling him I’m sleeping with Ethan.

That is not what a daughter does with her father.

I’m telling him…I don’t know what, but I hope it’s brilliant and sensitive and everything he needs me to vocalize.

Instead, we stand there in the foyer, and awkwardness ensues.

I can’t just blurt this out. I need to work my way into it, but he’s all demand and demand some more.

“I just, I need… I need to tell you something.”

“Shit. Did something go wrong with your deal?”

“No. No, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Okay, now you’re concerning me even more. What the heck is this, Sofia?”

“I’m nervous for the next phase of life for us both. And feeling a need to be close. Let’s go put on some coffee.”

He studies me long and hard, and finally says, “Hot chocolate. It’s getting too late for caffeine.

” He motions me toward the kitchen, and I quickly step in front of him, walking down the hardwood path and passing the living room of brown leather still decorated with my mother’s touch.

There are family photos on the walls, trinkets from our shared lives here and there, and beautiful artwork she adored.

The kitchen is a connected open concept with a giant island of warm tones we have always favored over the formal dining area in another room.

A few minutes later, we’re at the kitchen table, my favorite orange ceramic mugs in front of us, and my father unloads a can of whipped cream on my cup before offering me a spoon.

“I know how you like hot cocoa with your whipped cream.”

I laugh and accept the spoon. “That is true. Hot cocoa is very good with a can of whipped cream.”

He chuckles. “You got that from your mother.”

“I did. She loved her whipped cream with a little coffee.”

“She did.” He dips his chin and studies me. “Talk to me,” he commands, sipping from his cup.

I scoop some whipped cream and will the butterflies in my belly to settle. “Ethan Dalton.”

“The dick who turned me down. Yeah. What about him?”

“I looked him up after you bitched about him.”

“Okay. What about him?”

“He was in Hawaii. You know that already, but the ‘why’ of the equation is what matters right now. Dad, he sits on the board for Moore’s. He’s actually a huge stockholder.”

“Holy hell.” He scrubs his jaw. “Does he know you’re my daughter?”

“So, that’s the thing. Something happened when I was in Hawaii.”

“What does that mean?” He shoves his cup aside.

“We made eye contact across a bar, and I thought, he knows who I am . And of course, I also thought, that asshole . Then later, I’m in the restaurant alone, and he comes up and starts talking to me. I don’t know why, but he thought my name was Zoey.”

“Oh no. And now that’s coming back to haunt you.” It’s not a question but rather an assumption.

“Yes and no. We kind of connected, Dad. Okay, not kind of. We really connected, but I felt guilty because of what he did to you, so I ran out on him.”

“You slept with him.” His tone is flat and hard.

Blood swooshes in my ears. “Let’s just leave it at I ran out on him. Then I get to New York City, and he’s heading the team I’m presenting to, and he clearly knows I’m not Zoey.”

“And he dumped you and your brand.”

“No. That’s the thing. He said he loved my designs, and he really was the reason this all happened for me.

He believes in me and my brand. And we still had that connection.

It’s strong and hard to ignore. And I was worried about that influencing him helping me.

I wanted to earn my shot myself, but he swears my skill is my skill.

My career is my career. Unrelated to me and him.

Which seems true, considering the entire board had to vote yes for me, and—because I ran out on him again, and he followed me here. ”

“He— what ?”

“He’s here. I ran again. He came after me. And him being here could hurt him. It’s a conflict of interest. And all of this feels really confusing after what happened between you two.”

His lips press together, and he sips his cocoa without looking at me.

“Dad, I like him. And he said he liked you, too. He said this investor you’re talking with will screw you.”

His gaze shoots to mine. “Says the man who turned me down.”

“He only turned you down because of debt he now knows was because of Mom. He’s still interested in working with you.”

He sets his cup down again with a thud, cocoa sloshing over the sides, and he doesn’t seem to even notice. “I’m not a charity case for your new boyfriend.”

“I knew you’d think that, but do you think a man like Ethan would offer you charity, Dad?”

“He has so much money, he could throw it away and still be filthy rich, and yet he didn’t want in on my business. But he does now that he’s sleeping with my daughter.”

“He’s rich because he’s careful with his money. And he also believes character matters, and now he knows yours through me. He also realizes it had a small view. He wants to invest in you, Dad, and do so fairly. Don’t be prideful. Please consider this. He can come talk to you now, and—”

“No. No. ”

“Okay. We’re here another day.”

“And then what? You’re traveling the world with him?” There’s a whip to his tone. He is not pleased.

“New York, so he can deal with a family problem, and then Paris. I’ll be staying with him in both places.”

“Just like that? You barely know him.”

“I know him enough to know I want to know more. And I know enough to know he’d help you realize all your dreams with your business.

Think about it, Dad. He can meet you for lunch or dinner.

Or even breakfast Friday morning, before we leave.

” I reach over and squeeze his arm. “Please think about this.” I push to my feet and walk to the door, hoping he will follow, but he does not.

When I step into the Starbucks to find Ethan sitting at a corner table, the look he offers me is hopeful, but one look at my face and he’s on his feet, meeting me halfway, his hands settling on my face. “Give him time to think. You were stubborn, too. I’m certain it runs in the family.”

I almost laugh at that, but the way my father let me leave without so much as a goodbye is gut-wrenching. It’s almost as if I had to choose between him and Ethan, and in his mind, I already made that choice. “You want to walk or ride back to your place?” Ethan asks.

“Let’s ride. My stomach—it doesn’t feel good. I don’t feel very good at all.”

He studies me, his gaze a probe that cuts. “You’re very upset.”

“Of course, I am. I think he thinks I chose you over him. There doesn’t seem to be an option that ends in I choose both of you.”

“That’s not reality. You don’t have to choose. Stay here.” With that, he steps around me and starts walking toward the door.

I whip around as I watch him head the direction of my father’s house, my heart skipping a beat.

What is he doing? No. No. No. I race forward and after him.