Page 10 of My Favorite Sin

“That sounds really nice,” Ally says.

“Dan, can we expect you at the lunch?” my father asks. “We’d like to see you more.”

I don’t believe that statement. He’s only saying it to look good in front of Amabella. The man thinks I’m more hassle than I’m worth. He cut me off from receiving my trust fund when I turned eighteen, insisting my life choices didn’t warrant the reward and that I was a disappointment. If it was a parenting tactic, he failed yet again. I’ve never wanted his money.

Any event where I have to interact with my father sounds like a nightmare, but if the lunch is for Ally and my brothers will be here, chances are I won’t have much to do with him. “Sure, I’ll be at the lunch.”

This lunch can’t be too far off if they’re hosting it at the beach house. Summer is about to end, which means my father and Amabella will be returning to their penthouse on the Upper East Side.

“When do you two plan on returning to the city?” I speak up at a lull in conversation.

Amabella pours herself a glass of water, smiling excitedly at Ally. “Actually, we’re thinking about staying here.”

“Really?” Ally gasps, matching her mother’s enthusiasm. “Oh my God, I love that. You’ll be here with me?”

Dad laughs, pleased at Ally’s response. “We haven’t seen you in so long and thought it would be nice if we were all under one roof again. Your mom and I can both work remotely and travel to the city when needed.”

“Absolutely,” Amabella adds. “We also thought living here would be a nice way to help you settle in with your new job, seeing how busy you’re about to become. I’ll cook all your meals. Do your washing.”

“Mom, I’ve been living away from home for a year. I know how to do all those things,” Ally laughs. Apparently, her year abroad has done nothing toward helping Dad and Amabella view her as an adult.

“I know, darling. But I’m your mother and I’ve missed taking care of you.”

I seem to be the only one confused by the conversation. Ally will be living in this beach house permanently? I enter a downward spiral of thoughts, trying to figure out Ally’s motives for wanting to live here, as the three of them continue sharing their excitement for being a reunited family. Call me selfish but I thought now that Ally has returned from Paris, she’d be in the city and I’d actually get to see her again.

Is that why she’s moving here, to keep her distance from me?

“Dessert time.” Amabella stands from her chair. “Josh, honey, can you help me in the kitchen?”

“Certainly.”

The two of them leave Ally and me alone on the veranda. I keep my mouth shut until they’re out of earshot. Perhaps I shouldn’t say anything at all, but frustration gets the best of me and I need to know the truth.

“If you’re moving to The Hamptons to get away from me because of what happened?—”

“Dan,” she hisses, her eyes shooting to the door with panic that this conversation isn’t private. “I got a job here, okay. This has nothing to do with you.”

I’m not convinced. “What kind of job?”

“Killian got me a job at the school he teaches at. I’ll be a private piano teacher.”

My brows narrow in confusion. “Is this job a temporary thing until you get accepted into Juilliard?”

She scoffs and looks away from me, out at the ocean. “Juilliard isn’t going to accept me.”

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it. You gotaccepted out of thousands of applicants for that scholarship in Paris.”

“Juilliard is more competitive. The only reason I received that scholarship was because you filmed me playing the piano without me realizing, then secretly sent off the application. I can’t do auditions. The panic attacks haven’t gone anywhere.”

“What’s your point? See a therapist and work on overcoming your anxiety of auditions. That was your plan all along because you wanted Juilliard so badly.”

She looks back at me, her voice just as sharp as mine has turned. “Why are you so worked up over this?”

“Uh, maybe because I fucking care about you. Since when have you ever wanted to be a piano teacher?” I ask, right as I hear the door open behind us.

“Don’t discourage Ally,” my father reprimands, placing a stack of dessert plates on the table. Here we go.

Amabella is right beside him holding a lemon tart with concern etched on her face. For her sake, along with Ally’s, I hold back a groan and maintain my calm. “I’m trying to encourage Ally to chase her dreams.”

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