Page 72 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Turned on? Absolutely.

But never afraid.

What scared her was the power he seemed to have over her, without even trying. She’d wanted to give in to his every request. If he’d told her to jump out a window in that low, commanding voice of his, she was pretty sure she would’ve done it.

And that both terrified and infuriated her.

In that moment, she’d leaned into her anger, snapping at him even though, technically, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

I mean, he did get snappy with me for no reason, but that was nothing compared to how I reacted.

Allison realized she felt bad about it. She didn’t want to feel remorse for demanding he take her home when she did, but there it was, gnawing at her.

She’d spent so many years catering to everyone else’s needs that the moment she asked for something for her own mental well-being, she felt guilty.

Conditioning at its finest, I suppose.

A loud horn yanked her back to reality, making her jerk in her seat and bang her knee against the steering wheel.

What a fabulous way to start the fucking day.

“Fourteen minutes.”

Her father stood there, tapping his foot on the floor, arms crossed, his expression as sour as day-old coffee.

Allison froze as she approached her desk right outside his office. “Excuse me?” she asked, sighing as she set her bag down.

“You’re fourteen minutes late, daughter.”

Oh, give me a break.

She sighed again, rolling her eyes at his absurdity.

“Don’t give me attitude, Allison. You know very well that arriving late is—”

“Improper, I know,” she interrupted, a sharp edge to her voice that surprised even her. Normally, she walked on eggshells around her father, constantly trying to avoid triggering his temper. But something had changed—maybe it was Angelo’s recent kindness, his attention that made her feel valued. Whatever it was, she was done taking her father’s crap.

Allison squared her shoulders and met his glare head-on. Her voice was calm but firm as she said, “I’ve been working late every night this week, handling your clients and fixingyourmistakes. Fourteen minutes is nothing compared to the hours I’ve put in.”

Not the full truth, but close enough.

Her father’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red, but before he could say a word, Allison continued. “And another thing, your micromanagement is neither necessary nor appreciated. I am a professional, and I will not be treated like a child.”

For a moment, the room was thick with tension. Her father’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. But Allison didn’t flinch, holding her ground.

Then his gaze dropped to her baby bump. At nineteen weeks, her belly was no longer just a slight bulge—it was clearly the shape of new life growing within her. She knew exactly how he felt about her pregnancy; his disapproval had been evident fromthe start. She braced herself for the inevitable low blow, waiting for the criticism she was sure would come.

But it never did.

The silence caught her off guard, her heart pounding as she tried to process the unexpected reprieve.

Finally, he turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, “Just get to work.”

Allison watched him retreat into his office, a small, triumphant smile tugging at her lips. She had stood up to him, and it felt liberating. Maybe it was time she took more control of her life—starting with setting boundaries with her father.

She sat down at her desk, feeling a newfound sense of empowerment.

Allison spent the rest of her day in meetings, many of which had financial aspects that piqued her interest, even though she knew her father would never let her actually handle anything related to finance. After all, she was just his PA. In his eyes, she wasn’t supposed to be smart enough for anything more.

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