Page 126 of Perfect Pitch

He has the decently at least to look abashed. “I...”

Before he can manage a coherent word, Carys lambasts him in front of me. “My colleagues and I have worked tirelessly for this day. Does that penetrate through your thick skull?”

His teeth snap together. “It does.”

“Are you sure you understand that? Because first, Angie and Ward went to listen to Austyn play—putting Angie at significant risk, which fortunately hasn’t caused any harm, knock on wood.” Carys leans over and knocks on the conference room table. “Then my firm was investigated because of you. Where I had to hire my own investigators to find out why.”

“I know all of this. And if you’re so pissed, bill me for the last part,” Beckett snaps.

“Then let me catch you up on something you might be missing, Beckett. When I tell you don’t come in, there’s a damn good reason! You may be my biggest client, but you’re not my only one. And you could have broken any of the potential ten different confidentiality clauses I insert into the contracts I make other people sign—some of which are on your behalf—just by stepping foot into this office.” Before I can butt in, Carys holds up a hand. “I’m not surprised by this, mind you. But I have no compunction about sitting back and letting Kensington rip into you since I’m officially her attorney of record. And you just interrupted a very private meeting between me and my client. Now before you say a word, think very hard about how you would react if that happened to you and it was because someone just dropped in after they were advised not to do so.” Carys taps her fingers on the table behind her, waiting for his response.

A myriad of emotions cross his face, including humiliation and regret. He opens his mouth to speak when I jump right into the conversation in the most irritating way possible by giving Beckett a slow clap.

His blue eyes—my eyes—flash in irritation. Nice to meet you too, Dad. I’m your baby girl. Drawling, I inform Carys, “If I hadn’t hired you to be my attorney already, Carys, that would have convinced me. Does anyone win an argument with you?”

Carys twists her head slightly. “Not when it matters. Like I told you, I’m damn good at what I do.”

“Well, that will be one thing to relieve Mama’s mind,” I whisper.

And hearing the word “Mama” is what does it. Anger suddenly suffocates the room. Beckett suddenly begins cursing a blue streak while pacing. The words “lost” “baby” “mine” are punctuated through his magnificent diatribe. I make a mental note to ask Mitch later if he loses it on a regular basis so I know whether this is behavior I should be prepared for in public.

“You truly didn’t know? Before we came here, Mama thought you must have. Then something happened before she left. It wasn’t until she”—I nod at Carys—“explained everything she told Mama that I realized you both got rooked.”

David coughs. Expletives stop tumbling from Beckett’s lips. Instead, he’s intently focused on me, studying my face.

I knew it before, and I had all the proof I needed. But being mere feet from my biological father is causing my heart to beat erratically. Not because Beckett Miller’s my father but because it’s finally my father. The fact he gives a damn is more amazing than that 4.3 quintillion chance of turning a Rubik’s Cube in the right direction to solve it.

It’s better than any of Midas’s gold.

“My one true regret in finding out about all of this is thinking you just didn’t give a shit about me or my mother the night she told me who you were. She’s given up her whole existence to make sure I could be me.”

Carys tries to placate me. “I don’t think he feels that way.”

I say to Carys hotly, “I won’t sit here and listen to Sexy&Social’s favorite darling malign my mother. It’s bullshit. You saw her reaction. She wouldn’t even let me see her break down like that.”

He groans. “Oh shit.”

I surge to my feet and stalk around the table before demanding, “What did you do?”

“I ran into Paige downstairs,” he confesses.

David bangs his head against the door. “As if this couldn’t get worse.”

Carys bares her teeth at him. I take a second to study the look so I can use it later. “And you said?”

“I demanded the truth.” Then he jumps back a foot because Carys and I hiss at him and screech our displeasure. Beckett shouts, “She was already upset!”

“I don’t have to guess if you made things worse,” Carys regains her composure enough to probe.

“All I did was...” But the blood leeches from his face before he acknowledges, “Yes. I made things worse.”

I let out an impressive-sounding shriek of pure fury. Footfalls race from outside the door.

Beckett can’t help but note, “You even screech on pitch.”

“Give me a pen, a folder. Something. I need to kill him.” I turn and reach for a stack of files when Carys wraps me up in her arms.

And suddenly, it all becomes too much—newfound fame, finding out the truth about my father, and falling for a man who has no issue about lying to me. I start to cry.

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