Page 62 of Desperate Needs

Bigger than I’d assumed it would be. But I didn’t know the area at all. Verona sounded charming, though.

But that was just because of Shakespeare, I supposed. I’d tried to do some digging on Connor Callahan, but the second I did, I got a text from Pop asking me why I was looking into the man whose company took care of O’Doyle Industries’ security.

I’d closed the browser immediately and should have known better than to think incognito mode would mean jack shit to my father.

Googling for info on Connor wasn’t going to cut it. Anything I wanted to know, I would just have to ask the man himself. But that depended on how dinner went.

An icy breeze swept over me and through my coat, causing me to tremble. There was more snow on the ground here than down by my place, but that was to be expected.

I walked carefully across the stone pathway, taking in the bright lampposts that led the way to the enormous front door. They were whimsical, and I was charmed by that old world feel.

The house itself was more like a manse, made of slate stone with enormous windows and a black mahogany double door with steel doorknobs and an enormous keypad complete with a biometric pad.

It was the kind of thing Pop had installed on all our properties, which made sense, considering Connor was occupied in the same field.

Hmm.

I never really thought about that. About the similarities between my, well, between Connor and my father.

Both work in security.

Both with shady pasts.

Both were big.

Powerful, too.

But where Pop was a devoted family man, Connor was a bachelor at forty-two.

I wondered if he was looking to settle down. And if he was, what kind of woman would it be with?

I highly doubt he’d choose someone like me.

I gasped, hating the way my stomach churned just thinking about the tall, sleek woman Connor would someday have at his side.

I didn’t fit the image. Hell, I knew it was a role I would never play. I just had to keep reminding myself this was all a bit of fun. And if he’d called me here to say it was over, then I would leave with my shoulders straight and my head high.

I’d save the falling apart for when I was alone. See, that was the thing they didn’t tell you when you were raised to be a strong, independent woman.

They, whoever they were, often forgot to mention that being strong did nothing to negate emotions. You still had feelings, for fuck’s sake.

Sometimes you could lock them away, bury them deep. And sometimes they came oozing out of whatever internal compartment you tried to stuff them into.

Like magma seeping from the earth’s core.

Dammit.

I paused and sniffed, wiping the excess moisture from my eyes.

I hated it when I got sentimental. It was difficult, but I forced myself to stay in the present.

After all, nothing killed a person faster than miscommunications of thwarted hopes and dreams. I’d seen that with my own eyes.

It was best I waited to hear what the man had to say before I started spiraling down that particular rabbit hole.

Still frowning at the lack of holiday décor, I walked right up to the beautiful but plain entryway and steeled myself for what was to come. Still, I wondered.

Why is your house so cold, Connor?

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