Page 18 of Imperfect Arrangement
I sigh, running a hand over my face. “When you put it like that, it sounds a lot worse than it is. I…need to confirm something.”
“If Willow Pershing is the reason Quill spoke?” Grandpa Will’s tone sharpens, cutting right to the heart of it.
I nod, and it’s like every insecurity I’ve buried comes rushing back. “It could’ve been a fluke. Maybe Quill was riding an adrenaline high from that nightmare of a Ferris wheel.”
Or maybe—hell, maybe I’m totally screwed and Willow Pershing really does have some freaky mind-control power over my daughter.
Grandpa Will’s calm demeanor does nothing to soothe my frayed nerves. “Then why the cloak-and-dagger routine? I doubt Daisy or any of her friends—including Miss Pershing—would mind you tagging along if they knew why.”
My jaw tightens, my left eye twitching in response to the tension. “This isn’t about Daisy or Willow.”
Although, truth be told, Willow’s got me tangled up in knots. During our last two encounters, she declared the courthouse to be our next meeting spot. Now, I wonder if that day will ever come since our relationship—um, I mean, association—seems to have taken an unexpected turn.
“Then what is it?” Grandpa Will leans in, watching me closely. His eyes widen a fraction, and I can see that he’s pieced it together. “Quill?”
“You saw how she clammed up the moment we got close to them.” My voice drops, frustration threading through every word. “She loves me, I know that. But what if I’m the one holding her back? What if I’m the reason she’s locked inside her own head?” I’ve never wanted to be more wrong about something, but here I am, feeling like I’d tear myself apart if it meant my daughter would finally come out of hiding.
Grandpa Will shakes his head, his expression softening. “Raymond, that’s not?—”
“I just need to know,” I say, cutting him off, voice rougher than I’d like. “Maybe it’s ridiculous. Maybe I’m overthinking everything. But if there’s even a chance…”
I can’t finish the sentence, because there’s a part of me that’s terrified of what I might find out.
He sighs, settling into a chair across from me. “You hate lying, especially to family. What are you going to tell your cousins when they ask tomorrow?”
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“And what about Miss Pershing?”
The guilt I’ve been shoving down surges back, stronger than ever. “If it’s Willow who can coax Quill into speaking, the last thing I want is for her to feel pressured, knowing she’s under a microscope. That’s why I haven’t said anything to Daisy or my brothers. Willow probably has no idea about Quill’s situational mutism, and I’d prefer to keep it that way—at least until they meet tomorrow.”
Grandpa Will gives me a slow nod, acknowledging the weight of my words. “You’ve thought this through pretty well.”
“How could I not?” My voice is raw, thick with the weight of what’s at stake.
It’s about my daughter after all—her happiness, her voice, her future.
A CINDERELLA FAN
WILLOW
“Who gave us these tickets again?” Violet asks, side-eyeing Daisy the moment Quill and Grandpa Will are out of earshot.
The man, I’ve come to know, isn’t Quill’s real grandpa but an honorary grandfather to the family, who—apparently—has a special working relationship with Raymond Teager.
“Vi, the answer hasn’t changed since the last five times you asked. It’s still Raymond.” Daisy huffs, visibly losing patience.
I understand Daisy’s agitation. Violet’s been circling this conversation like a dog with a bone. But I don’t blame Vi either. For once, her relentless enthusiasm isalmostwarranted.
“I needed confirmation, okay?” Violet bites her lip. “And Quill is hisdaughter?” Her voice rises an octave, as if she’s trying to validate some earth-shattering scandal.
When Daisy nods, clearly done with this conversation, Vi pulls out her phone and starts typing furiously, thumbs flying across the screen like her life depends on it.
“What are you doing?” I lean in but I’m unable to catch anything.
Her head jerks to my face, still bent forward, watching her screen. “Ijustfound out the biggest news of Cherrywood. Raymond Teager, the elusive billionaire ‘bachelor’”—Vi makes air quotes on her last word—“has a daughter. And no one knows! Do you really expect me to sit here and do nothing? It’s like finding out Santa Claus is real and saying, ‘Good to know, but I don’t care.’”
Daisy rises from where she’s lazing on the recliner, as fast as her pregnant belly will allow, and turns to Violet. “Vi, you cannot?—”
