He snorted. “If you ever joined me, you’d see what I do.”
Oh, I knew what he did, and I had no desire to be tortured. My dad was a fiend in the gym and believed the coach should be as fit as the players. In his mid-fifties, he was just as strong and fit as he had been as a top NHL goalie.
I was pretty sure the athletic genes skipped me completely. I’d never been like him and my older sister, who bonded over hockey and their sadistic workout routines. The hardest workout I could handle was trying to carry all the bags of groceries up a flight of stairs in one trip.
I took the discarded hand towel and started wiping up the mess. “What are you up to today?”
“I have a meeting this morning at Badden Apparel. Since you’re up so early for once, why don’t you go get dressed andcome with me? Afterward, we can go get a new toaster and fire extinguisher.”
Glad he hadn’t launched into a speech about how kids these days were glued to their phones instead of being physically active, I arched a brow. “Me? Go to a meeting with you?”
He dried his hands and turned to face me, his hands returning to his hips. It was the off-season, yet he still went into coach mode. “What else are you doing today?”
There was no need for him to ask me if I was job hunting or going to any interviews. We both knew I wasn’t, just like every other day since I’d graduated. I’d told him I needed a break, but I was pretty sure he was losing his patience with me, even though I’d only been home a few weeks.
I’d been the child he always worried about because, in his opinion, I’d never done well in school and didn’t push myself. I’d gotten one D, and he never let it go. When I’d gotten into the University of Connecticut’s fine arts program for puppetry, he’d thought I was joking.
Knowing I didn’t really have a choice if I wanted to keep my secret, I sighed. “What should I wear?”
Almost two hours later, we parked in a lot across the street from Badden Apparel’s headquarters in the Fashion District of downtown Los Angeles. The drive had been about an hour from my dad’s house in Corona Del Mar, and it had practically killed me not to check my phone the entire time.
“Oh, there’s a coffee shop! The meeting is in twenty minutes,right?” I smoothed down the front of my blouse and slacks as we got out of my dad’s SUV. “Do you want to grab a coffee?”
“It is, but I need to speak with the others.” He was referring to the general manager, owner, and marketing director of the Pacific Storm. “You go ahead, though. We’re meeting on the seventh floor, in their main conference room.”
I looked up at the white building with modern black windows spanning across the front and down the side. It was sandwiched between a red brick building and a two-story brick building with a coffee shop on the ground floor.
We crossed the street and parted ways as I stepped inside Perky Squirrel Coffee. It smelled amazing, and even though I’d already had a cup of coffee, I needed more if I was going to sit through a meeting to go over merch designs for the team’s rebranding.
I got in line and opened my phone. “Holy fuckballs!” Apparently, instead of going to work or getting their kids off to school, people were watching my video.
“Watch your mouth.” A very attractive man with piercing blue eyes turned around and glared at me before looking down at the little girl he was holding hands with.
“Oh sh—shiitake mushrooms. I’m sorry.” I put my hand over my chest in apology but also because my heart was going to leap out of my chest.
The man was tall, at least six feet, with short light brown hair and the bone structure of a Greek god. He wore an all black suit, but that wasn’t what made him so hot. Him scowling at me while holding the hand of the cutest little girl did.
He shook his head and turned to face forward again, but the little girl with him kept staring at me. A small smile turned up her previously sad expression, and I winked at her.
She turned forward, and I went back to my phone as we moved closer to the counter. The man spoke in a quiet voice to the little girl, then he stepped to the side with her, pulling me away from the comments section of my video.
“Go ahead. She’s still deciding.” He squatted down, his slacks pulling tight over his thighs as he spoke to who I assumed was his daughter. I mean, she had to be; they were practically spitting images of one another, except her hair was blonde.
I placed my coffee order, along with a cake pop and an iced scone for a midmorning snack. Today was a day for celebration and to come up with a game plan for moving out of my dad’s house.
“Delaney, I really need you to tell me what you want for breakfast. I’m already running late.” The hot, scowly man moved up to the counter when I stepped aside to wait for my coffee.
Delaney frowned at the display of baked goods and breakfast sandwiches. I couldn’t tell if she was about to throw a fit or cry, but her dad said something to the barista before looking back down at her. She raised a shaky arm and pointed at the display case.
“What do you want, a breakfast sandwich?” He looked from her hand to the food, but she wasn’t really pointing at anything in particular.
“Come on, man. Some of us have jobs,” a man behind them complained.
If I thought the glare he’d given me was bad, it had nothing on the look he gave the man. The man even backed up a step, raising his hands in surrender.
The line was long, and I understood the frustrated glances people were giving. With a sigh, I reached into my purse and pulled out Penelope, putting her on my hand.
“Hi, Delaney. I’m Penelope,” I said in the puppet’s melodic voice. I moved the sock puppet up to the case and looked dramatically back and forth between the food and Delaney. “So many choices! I think I want whatever you are getting. Unless you’re getting...” I moved the head back and forth, making the ears slap across its face. “Broccoli.”