It’s delusional for me to think we can pull this off.
Then again, I am the daughter of Jackson and Tia Kennedy.
Delusional might just be my middle name.
I’m halfway across the dining room when my father stands and waves. He straightens his jacket, wearing a scowl. No doubt because my hair is still pink and my clothes are still too tight for his liking. If we’re being honest, my curves are too curvy as well. At times, it’s as if my entire being offends him. But no matter how much criticism I get, there’s no shrinking my body into my mother’s petite frame.
He should blame his side of the family, but Kennedys do no wrong.
“Hi, Daddy,” I say in the most sugary-sweet voice I can muster.
He leans down and kisses my cheek, murmuring a “Hello, Princess,” always keeping up appearances. Once he’s pulled out my chair, he takes his own.
“I thought we discussed the hair,” he says in a clipped tone, his facial expression never giving away his annoyance.
Rather than let his emotionally stunted tantrum get me down, I remain smiley and bright. “Did we? I didn’t realize that what I do or don’t do with any part of my body is under your purview.”
“Lennox.” The single word is a warning.
“Daddy.” This one is a taunt. “Where’s Ryder?”
With his eyes fixed on his menu, he mumbles, “He couldn’t make it.”
Annoyed, I scoot my chair away from the table. “Did you trick me into coming to lunch?”
My father’s mask slips, and he hits me with a glower. “Didn’t realize you’d only agreed to come because of Ryder.”
I sigh. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
The waitress appears, and like a pair of robots who could do this dance in our sleep, we smile and place our orders, keeping our tones polite so no one within earshot would believe we’re even the slightest bit agitated with one another.
Once she’s gone, my father leans back in his chair. Like he’s the chairman in a boardroom—how he approaches basically every interaction in his life—he studies me. “Ryder likes you.”
Keeping my expression aloof, I shrug. “I’m dating Aiden.”
My father rolls his eyes. “Must I remind you of the trust provision?”
“No, Daddy.”Anger bubbles hot and fierce beneath my skin, but I choke it back.
“You’re not marrying that boy.”
I cough out a laugh. Not that I’m actually surprised that he thinks he has that kind of power over me. “I’ll marry whomever I choose.” Chin lifted, I sniff. “Or not get married at all.”
“Then you won’t get access to your trust.”
“So you’ve told me.”
The lines on my father’s face deepen. “Lennox, be reasonable. Ryder could be an excellent addition to this family. The label has been struggling since we lost Lake to Hall Records.”
“You lost her because you screwed her over by refusing to renegotiate her royalties. Ford gave Lake a piece of the pie. The pieshebrought the ingredients for, then put together and fucking baked. All you did was put it in tin and place it on a shelf. The album sold itself. Try a new tactic,Daddy, and maybe you won’t lose out next time.”
With a grunt, my father throws his napkin down. “He only did that because he wanted to sleep with her.”
I sigh, weary. There’s no getting through to this man. I’ve tried, but he’s stuck in his ways, and we’ll never agree. “I’m not dating Ryder so that you can turn your label around. And I most certainly won’t marry him.”
“All I’m asking is that you go to dinner with him tonight and talk about our label.”
My heart lurches. “Dinner?” This is so like him, and my response is so me. “I can’t. I have plans.”