Page 15 of Making It While Faking It
“Martha and Lena packed your clothing and other personal items to be transported over to Achilles’s apartment. Martha knows you very well, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
A sardonic laugh escapes me. “She touched my things, Dad?” Because it’s funny. It’s so fucking hilarious to find myself back in the same position I hated ten years ago with my dad calling the shots.
“I know,” he says empathetically, to my surprise.
I jerk my head back. “You do?”
I’m sure he’s about to say something else until one of his eyes narrows, and his gaze drops down to what I have on.
Dang it. Leo is reading the scene. I don’t look as if I have my act together. I have last night’s dress still on, and I didn’t even wash the makeup off my face. I must really look a mess.
“What happened last night wasn’t my fault,” I say, knowing now it’s time to defend my reputation. I need him to know that whatever I may look like right now, I’m no longer a screwup. “I didn’t mess up. I had a party, and the wrong people showed up. That’s it.”
His gaze flits across my face. “I know that, Treasure Chest.”
And just like that, tears burn the back of my eyes as most of the tension leaves my body.
“Thank you,” I say from my heart.
The corners of Leo’s mouth tease a hint of a smile. “I heard you had a great event last night. I wish your mom and I would’ve been invited.”
My face drops as warmth flashes across my skin. I thought about inviting them. “I know. I should’ve.”
My dad puts two fingers under my chin and gently lifts my face. “Next time?”
I nod. “Next time.”
He initiates a hug, and I squeeze him tight. My dad acknowledging that last night wasn’t my fault expands in my chest, filling me with contentment, making me forget how unsettled I am about Martha and Lena rummaging through my things.
“And I’m aware that moving in with Achilles isn’t easy for you. But after the bad press, it has to be done.”
I snort a chuckle as I decide against reciting some of the passages inTRM’s last post about me. In essence, my dad is right. I actually hate to admit that living with Achilles is a pretty good tactical move. Although the thought of spending time alone with Achilles Lord in the confines of his home scares the hell out of me.
“Okay,” I say, acquiescing with a sigh. “I’ll move in with him.”
Then Leo puts his hands on my shoulders and leans back to make steady eye contact with me. “If at any second you don’t feel comfortable in his home, then you call me.”
I want to say that I don’t feel comfortable right now, just thinking about living in the same place as Achilles. I want to complain about how mean Achilles has been to me thus far and how I can’t imagine him being hospitable to me at all. But after Dad’s congratulations on my adult-sized success, I don’t want to whine like a little girl who wants her daddy to fix all her worries.
“Okay,” I say in a voice so small that I wonder if he heard me.
“Also,” he says, raising his eyebrows, “I expect you to be present at dinner tomorrow night.”
Shit. How did he know I planned to skip it?
“Your grandmother’s hosting it.”
I gasp as my jaw drops. “Grandmother? She’s in town?”
His eyebrows wrinkle in a worrisome manner. “Yes,” he barely says.
I ask when she got into town and why no one told me before now, and Leo assures me that he also just learned that she’s the one hosting, and whatever she wants to tell the family is supposedly very important.
Now I share my dad’s worried look. “Do you think she’s sick?”
Leo’s expression changes from worry to something that makes him look as if he’s trying to solve a complicated math equation in his head. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “I guess we’ll learn what the hoopla is about tomorrow.” He kisses me quickly on the cheek. “Just be there, Treasure Chest.” He tips his head to the side as he points at me. “I mean it. Don’t skip this dinner.”
Moving In
