Page 48 of Daddy Christmas

I walked beside him from one elaborate booth to another as he showed his face to old, new, and potential clients. Suravi was never far away, always making sure Wyatt’s next move went as smoothly as possible. But I had to admit, I’d lost steam. London had been so fun, even though I hadn’t gotten the chance to sightsee, because the work itself had been right up my alley. I loved working with people, and I worked well under pressure. It was just…once I reached my limit, it was tough to keep going.

By the time Wyatt was done at a little past five o’clock, it was almost impossible for me to stifle my yawns.

To think, we had tomorrow too! Luckily, only a morning session, but still.

“Suravi, could you grab our coats, please?” Daddy asked.

“On my way, sir,” she responded. “Your car will be outside in five.”

“Oh—you know.” Daddy paused. “You take it. Head on back to the hotel and have a relaxing evening. Parker and I will walk.”

We would fucking what?

I had a better idea. We all took the car back to the hotel and had a relaxing evening. How about that?!

“Are you sure, sir?” Suravi had doubts, like any normal person would. “It’s very cold outside.”

Daddy smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be fine.”

What a load of reindeer crap.

I managed to keep my mouth shut through two chats Daddy had with clients, then while Suravi returned with our coats, and aaaall the way to the exit. We stepped outside, and it was actually snowing. And we had what, half an hour to the hotel?

My feet were tired. Luxembourg at snowy dusk. Yay.

“May I ask what you have against comfortable rides back to the hotel, Daddy?” I asked stiffly.

He chuckled under his breath and put on his leather gloves. “Not a damn thing, but I wanted to show you around one of my favorite cities on earth.”

I scrunched my nose. My breath was already misting in the air.

So far, Luxembourg hadn’t impressed, but that was probably because I hadn’t seen much of it. Just a crapload of modern buildings, busy roads, and some older structures too.

I guessed we were walking, then.

After pulling down my beanie a bit and making sure my mittens were on properly, he grabbed my hand, and we started freaking walking.

Traffic was busy, and I threw a longing glance at every cab that whooshed by.

Banking was big in Luxembourg. Possibly the car industry too, ’cause we walked past lots of dealerships. And banks.

“I suppose it’s a bad time to say I truly love having you with me,” he said. “I feel much more energized.”

I scowled up at him. “You’re stealing my energy—give it back.”

He laughed and linked my arm with his. “What I mean is, I want you to travel with me, Parker. Not for boring meetings, of course, but events like these. We do quite a few of them every year—big and small—and everyone’s very happy with what you’ve contributed. Even my uncle—we actually talked earlier, and he thinks we should bring fewer suits and more creators and engineers. Clients need to see more of the production stage.”

I chewed on my lip, confused about why this was bad. It sounded like a compliment to my ears. “Why would it be bad to say that? I’d love to travel with you.”

Silly man.

“Even when I make you walk back to the hotel?”

A breath gusted out of me, and I shrugged in a “what’re you gonna do?” way. “I guess I’m a masochist. A hungry, tired, cranky masochist.”

“Well. I can take care of two of those things,” he promised me.

We’d see.

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