Page 129 of Just One Season
When my phone rings as I’m sliding my laptop into my bag and reaching for the notebook containing my ongoing to-do list, I don’t even think about it before answering.
When it’s a split second too late, I see who’s calling.
“Dad?” I freeze with my hand on the zipper to my bag.
“Lucy, darling. I’m in town.” My dad’s authoritative voice makes my skin crawl. “Can we meet for coffee?”
He’s in town? I take my phone away from my ear and look at the time. Seven o’clock in the morning.
“When did you get here?” I put him on speaker.
“Yesterday afternoon. I had dinner with Paul Harrison. And I wanted to come see my daughter.”
He was in town yesterday but didn’t call me? Or Atticus?
“Ah. Okay. I have a busy day?—”
“Paul said there’s a lovely coffee shop called Deep Roots Cafe. He said he’s seen you there before.”
I swallow and shut my eyes tightly. I need to face him. I wish I knew what Winchester FC was going to say to me before I see my father again. I wish I had a job offer I could throw in his face.
“Have you talked to Atticus?” But I know he hasn’t. My brother would have immediately told me if he had.
“No. But I might watch the game tonight. Paul’s offered me tickets in the corporate suite.”
I roll my eyes because Atticus could have easily gotten him tickets.
“Fine. I’ll meet you at Deep Roots Cafe in fifteen minutes, okay?”
I click end. I didn’t even think to ask where he’s staying. I’m sure it’s some bougie hotel that costs a thousand dollars a night.
As soon as I walk in to the cafe, I imagine myself there with Kellen. That first meeting with our first kiss, or one of the other times we’d gone to grab a coffee. I picture meeting Bri and Ava for hot chocolate so Ava could hang out with MBM.
But then I spot my father at a table in the corner, and all the happy feelings fade away.
“Lucy, darling,” he says when I approach. Richard stands and pulls me into his arms. I let him, but keep my body stiff and only half-heartedly lean in.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Shall we get coffee?” He gestures to the line of people, and I follow him over.
“What are you doing in town?”
“Both of my children live here, do I need another excuse?”
Yeah.
“No, I guess not.” I shrug and try to smile. Maybe he is just here for a visit with no ulterior motive.
Dad orders us two large coffees with cream and sugar without asking me what I want. He doesn’t care much for what other people want. He knows what he likes and assumes everyone will agree.
I prefer a vanilla latte with oat milk. Kellen had no problem remembering that.
We settle into a table in awkward silence.
“How are things with that hockey player?”
Shit. I shake my head. “Done.”
