Page 53 of Losing Hope

Chapter Twenty

Hope lookedat the clock on the dashboard and noted the time. Ten-fifty. Her father would most likely be home and possibly already in bed, but she needed to confront him and didn’t want to wait another minute.

“Could you take me to my father’s apartment instead, please? Do you need the address?”

“No, ma’am. I’m familiar withit.”

“Wonderful. Thankyou.”

She could call him. Her phone was in the pocket of her skirt, but no. She wanted to catch him off guard. Any warning she gave him would just give him more time to fabricate more lies, and she’d had enough of those. Several minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of her father’s building. A doorman appeared and opened her door, helping her out of the car. She thanked the driver and made her way into the foyer of the building.

“Do you know if Mr. Yorke is in?” she questioned the doorman.

“I believe he is, ma’am. His secretary came around earlier, so I suspect he’s working. Would you like me to callup?”

“No. Thank you, though. I’ll just go directly.”

The doorman tipped his hat and returned to his station as she made her way to the elevator. She punched the arrow pointing up and stepped inside the elevator once the doors slidopen.

She clenched and unclenched her hands nervously as the elevator climbed to its destination, wondering if she was making the right decision in coming here and confronting him. Perhaps she should have waited until she wasn’t so angry and confused. The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors swished open. It was now or never she supposed and, bracing herself, stepped into the short hallway and went to hisdoor.

Her shoes clicked on the marbled floor of the otherwise silent space as she unlocked the door and made her way toward the living room. Lights were on, so she assumed that perhaps he was reading, or possibly even in his office working. When she didn’t find him in the living room, she turned and started down the hallway to his office.

She could see the door was slightly ajar and the light on, and felt some relief at finding him in his most likely hiding spot. As she got closer, she pushed the door wide and smiled when she saw her father sitting at the desk, head buried in some paperwork.

“Daddy?”

His head snapped up in surprise before a wide smile broke across his features. “Hope, darling! What a nice surprise.” He stood and came around the desk, pulling her into his arms in a warm embrace before pushing her back and looking at her. “You’re all dressed up. And you look like you’ve been crying? What’s wrong?”

She pulled herself out of his arms and stepped back, nodding. “We need totalk.”

His brows creased, and all humor left his eyes. “This sounds serious.”

“It is.” She turned and started back down the hallway. “Let’s go sit in the kitchen, okay?”

When they entered the kitchen, she walked to the coffee machine and smiled when she felt a warm pot already waiting. She pulled a mug out of the cabinet for herself. “Do you want acup?”

“Yes, that sounds nice, dear.”

She already knew he was going to say yes but asked anyway. He loved his coffee and usually always had some close by. She poured them both a cup and handed his to him black. She added her usual sugar and cream and couldn’t help but feel a slight pang in her heart, frowning when she remembered how Gage would tease her about the lack of coffee in her coffee.

“You’re worrying me. Please, tell me what’s on yourmind.”

She sat down at the counter next to him and smiled sadly. “Faith Flynn is on mymind.”

His eyes narrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably. “I thought we had already discussedthis.”

“We didn’t discuss the part about you having an affair with her. Or the baby she was carrying when she died. Your baby, Daddy. My half-sister.”

He turned visibly pale, and the hand holding his coffee began to tremble. He set the cup on the counter and let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, darling. I’m so sorry you had to learn about any of that. Would you believe me if I said I only kept it from you to lessen yourpain?”

“No.” She shook her head angrily. “I think you hid it from me because it was easier for you and you knew I wouldn’t forgiveyou.”

“Will you let me explain?” He reached for her hand and pulled it into his. “Please?”

She stared at him for a long time before responding. Perhaps it was only seconds, but it felt like minutes before she finally did. “I do want to hear what you have to say, but I honestly just don’t know if I will believe anything you tellme.”

He nodded, his eyes sad and understanding. “And I accept that possibility. I know it’s of my own doing.”

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