Page 3 of Praise Me: Pilot
“Oh,” she says, letting out a small, humorless laugh. “The old bad weather excuse. It used to work a lot better when I was younger. You know. Before I had a smartphone with a weather app.”
Anger fogs my brain. She’s seen right through the excuse.
My first words to this girl were a lie.
That shit is not sitting right at all.
“I’m sorry,” I say simply, giving in to the urge to tip her chin up, a piece of my heart tearing away when I see the sheenin her eyes.No, angel. Please don’t cry. “You’ve got me for the weekend. What do you say we make the best of it?”
CHAPTER 2
Haylo
What do you say we make the best of it?
Joel’s question lingers in the air between us, but all I can hear are the jubilant cries from my sorority sisters as they reunite with their parents. The pride in the voices of the fathers witnessing the positive changes in their daughters. The wobbly greetings from mothers who have been away from their baby too long.
I’m greeted with none of that.
I’m greeted by Joel.
And while he is admittedly, like, level ten hot, with his thick six-three frame and debonair good looks, Joel is not my father. He’s a stand-in. Here to appease me while my father, no doubt, galivants somewhere around the globe with a woman probably half his age.
Some habits never change.
My sadness collides with anger, filling like a balloon in my throat.
I’ve created happiness for myself at college, especially with the Chi Omega chapter. They’ve become my sisters, my support system. My source of strength and positivity. I wanted so badly to show my father how far I’ve come since those dark years in middle school where I was totally adrift, bereft from the loss of my mother. The absence of my father who couldn’t seem to come down out of the sky long enough to comfort me.
I’ve built a foundation. A refuge. But my dad isn’t here to witness it.
And my anger wins, because I actually allowed myself to get my hopes up. That he would choose me this weekend. This super-important weekend with my found family. But once again, he picked his bachelor lifestyle.
This man, Joel, who is standing in front of me, is probably just like him.
A womanizing liar. Yes, a liar. Hasn’t he already proven that?
“Did you lose a bet with Phil or something?”
One of Joel’s dark eyebrows rises. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, how did you get stuck babysitting the forgotten daughter?”
“You’re not forgotten.”
Wow. Joel’s eyes are the most unique shade of gold, and his scent…it’s like a fresh spruce tree in a winter landscape. A quick glance around tells me my sorority sisters have taken notice of my father’s handsome replacement, some of them sending me wide-eyed looks.Who is that?
Without responding to them, I turn back to Joel. “You’re free to go, Joel. I would rather be alone than be a charity case.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don’t deny that I’m a charity case, though.”
“I’m not happy with the way this was handled, either,” he clips, before rolling back his broad shoulders. Gathering himself. “Your father should be here.”
My stupid bottom lip trembles at his unexpected honesty.
I didn’t see that coming.
