Page 141 of Not That Into You

He nods. “And you seem sad.” He rests his hand on top of mine. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, Dad.”

He cocks his brow.

My shoulders droop. “Fine. It’s not nothing, but... I don’t know.” I trace my finger along the table’s grain. “Cameron’s a good guy, and we have fun together, but we don’t have a future.”

“He agrees?”

I sigh. “No. But we’re so different.” I shake my head. “It just wouldn’t work.”

“Hm.” My dad presses his lips together. “Your mother and I are different.”

True, but... “It’s not the same.”

He lifts both brows this time.

“You two are in love, and you want the same things.”

My dad leans back. “You and Cameron don’t want the same things?”

“No. He wants to be a high-powered corporate guy. He’s wealthy. His family’s wealthy.” I glance at my father. “And they do not like me.”

My dad frowns.

“Cameron owns a four-story townhouse off Park Avenue with an entire room devoted to his suits. He eats at fancy restaurants and goes to important social events.” I shake my head. “None of that is me.”

My dad’s brow furrows. “You don’t like his place?”

“No, I do. It’s really nice, actually.”

He scratches his chin. “You don’t like the fancy restaurants?”

“No, it’s not that. Fancy restaurants are fine, but...”

He tilts his head. “You went all the time?”

“No.” I frown. “We never actually went to a fancy restaurant.” We’d gone out to brunch at an awesome neighborhood spot and grabbed dinner once at a bistro near his place, but otherwise, we stayed in. “We actually spent most evenings cooking together at his place.” Which, frankly, I preferred. Cameron’s a good cook, and we worked well together in the kitchen. We had fun.

“Hm.” My dad gives me a quizzical look. “So, it was the social events?”

I frown. “Partly.”

“He likes going to them, and you don’t?”

“Um...” I furrow my brow. “That’s not it. He doesn’t like going to events any more than I do. But unlike me, he has to go to them. His job requires it.”

“Hm.”

When I was younger, if I misbehaved, my mom’s reaction was a flash in the pan while my dad’s was a slow simmer. She’d scold me and send me to my room, while my dad would just look at me until I broke down and admitted my transgressions and apologized.

Not that I’ve done anything wrong here.

He folds his arms across his chest. “It sounds like you’re uncomfortable with his money but not with him.”

I open my mouth, then close it.

“If you took away his money, would that change anything?”

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