Page 17 of Take My Place

I wonder why?

“But all those things are in the past and I’m not a believer in dwelling on things I can’t change,” my father continues. “I keep my focus firmly on the future and I have every faith that you and I will achieve great things together. Now please, Ivy. Try the octopus. It truly is delicious.”

I do as I am told. It is easier that way.

The rest of the meal passes fairly uneventfully. My father spends the whole time talking about himself, seemingly not caring about my life. Part of me is grateful–it means I don’t have to come up with any lies to avoid telling him anything he might use against me later. But part of me wishes he cared about me, just a little bit.

Most fathers would be proud to see their daughter get engaged, want to plan the wedding with them. Something tells me that if I let my father get involved with mine, it would become the Solomon show with him dictating everything and ignoring what I wanted. Still, it would have been nice for him to show some interest.

As the waiter clears away our plates, he asks if we want to see the dessert menu.

“No,” says my father, before I had a chance to even think about it. “Ivy needs to watch her figure. She’s got a designer wedding dress to fit into. Just the bill will be fine.”

“Very good, sir.” The waiter performs another one of his obsequious bows, leaving to fetch the bill.

“What’s that face for?” my father asks as I scowl. Yet again, he’s made my decision for me. “Don’t tell me you actually wanted more food? Good thing I turned it down then. You need to be looking your best when you walk down the aisle. You’re representing House Archaic, remember.”

“Yep.” I stand up, ready to go.

Seeing me move, Romy comes over to join us.“Everything all right, Ivy?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” my father asks. “My daughter is back where she belongs. But since you’re here, I might as well warn you that if anything were to happen to her while in your care, anything at all, you will face the wrath of House Archaic. I will burn this town to the ground if that’s what it takes. Don’t you dare hurt my daughter.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Romy says smoothly, putting his arm around me and not fearing my father one bit. I kinda like that he protects me and doesn’t seem to fear a man who kidnapped him and could have killed him not that long ago. “I love Ivy and I plan on spending the rest of my life putting her happiness first. You can trust me.”

“We’ll see.”

“Anyway, Dad, we’ve got to go,” I say. “We told Romy’s parents we wouldn’t be late back. It was good to catch up.”

“Yes, it was.” My father stands up and comes to hug me goodbye. Kissing me on both cheeks, he whispers so Romy wouldn’t hear. “Be on your guard at all times. You can’t trust the Navarres.”

Chapter Seven

“That man!” I stomp across the carpark, steam practically coming out of my ears. “I hate himsomuch!”

“I would never have guessed,” Romy laughs. “You should have seen your face while he was talking. You looked bored out of your brain.”

“That’s because I was,” I say. “He did nothing but drone on and on about himself and all the incredible things he’s doing right now. He didn’t seem to care that I’d spent months on the run. He is more interested in telling me how much money he’s made. Shame he didn’t want to spend any of it on dessert. After all that time listening to him speak, I deserve chocolate cake!”

“Would ice cream do?” Romy offers. “There’s a parlour not far from here that does a mean sundae.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

It’s funny how an evening with my father helped put things in perspective. My engagement to Romy is a problem I was going to have to fix at some point, but for now, it offered me some protection while I figured out how I could break free from my father forever.

Running and hiding isn’t a permanent solution. I know that now.

The atmosphere in the car is a lot more relaxed as Romy drives us to the ice cream parlour. I survived the meeting with my father, and Romy respects the fact I have a lot to think about, so he doesn’t badger me with questions about our discussion, giving me time to unwind.

Romy switches on the radio to a rock channel. Closing my eyes, I lay back in the seat, dozing. It has been a long night.

“Arse!” Romy’s sudden curse woke me.

“What?”

“The ice cream parlour’s closed. We must have just missed it.”

I look out of the window. We are outside a parade of shops. The ice cream parlour is right in the middle, but the lights are dim and I can make out a single server sweeping up inside.

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