Page 6 of Forbidden Daddy

“Okay…?” I said hesitantly.

“One of Dad’s associates is bringing his son because apparently, he keeps telling Dad how good we’d be together. I need you to look stunning so that you can turn him down when he invariably falls for you.”

“Um, why can’t you just turn him down? Is your dad making you date him?”

“No! Dad would never! It’s just that I know this guy holds the keys to an important deal, and I don’t want to sour his opinion of my father. IfIturn him down, that might happen. Ifyoudo it, you’re just another college student that rejects him. Much more appropriate.”

I nodded like I understood, and let Hannah begin working on me. It didn’t take her as long as I thought it would to make up for my long nights and crappy diet. I was skeptical that she would be able to do it, but she wouldn’t let me see my face before making me step into a pale pink dress and helping me zip it up. Hannah’s clothes were obviously tailored, and where my waist dipped in, there was a small amount of slack in the fabric, but where it ran over my chest, it was significantly tighter, and my cleavage was impressive under the V-neck of the dress. The sleeves were capped at the shoulder, small lace detailing fluttering against the edges of my skin. The skirt flowed from my waist down to my mid-calf, and Hannah placed a pair of pale heels on my feet.

She slipped into a dark blue number of her own and did something small and fast with my hair.

“Have a look,” she said with satisfaction.

I stood, turning to the mirror. I looked… different. My eyelids had shades of pink and white streaked over them, and my lashes were dark and long, the sleepless nights completely covered by concealer. My eyes looked deep and mysterious, my hair pulled up into a top knot with other long strands curling around my face and tumbling around my shoulders. I looked, to be blunt, amazing.

“Dad just texted,” Hannah said, straightening her own clothes, “They’ve all just pulled up so we have to go downstairs to greet the guests.”

I nodded, my heart pounding at the thought of pretending to be like Hannah and her father. I straightened my back and did my best not to trip in the heels as we walked to the elevator. Hannah led the way and told me repeatedly that I would be fine, in between thanking me. I stayed silent, nodding through gritted teeth and counting the floors that passed.

When we stepped out of the elevator, I counted my breaths, following my friend, my eyes fixed on her back to give me a point of focus. We stepped into the entrance foyer, and I heard a man’s voice greeting Hannah. I looked up, just in time for her to introduce us.

“Evelyn, this is my father. Dad, this is the friend I told you about, Evelyn.”

I stared, and her father stared back.

“Julian?”

Chapter Two

Julian

Evelyn.

My mind blanked, except for her name, running on panicked repeat. The friend my daughter had told me about, the one that was making her so happy at college wasEvelyn?

My daughter was looking at me with expectation bright in her eyes. Hannah and I had a complicated relationship. I wasn’t sure how to connect with her, and this was an opening. She was waiting for me to say something, to welcome the first friend she’d ever brought home with a warm smile and my trademark handshake. I couldn’t.

I was frozen in place, and I could tell that Evelyn felt the same. If it had been a normal situation, we’d joke around and explain just how we knew each other, laugh it off and carry on. It wasn’t normal though. The same tension I felt in the car was swirling between the two of us. I was relieved to see that she was doing okay. I saw a finger bandaged by her side, and hoped that hadn’t happened the night we met.

Dark eyes glimmering.

Pounding footsteps.

Fear, not for myself, buther.

I’d have helped anyone in that situation, but I hadn’t expected the aftermath to be her staring at me with those molten eyes, asking me a question I couldn’t answer. The car ride had stretched into eternity, with her presence intoxicating in the passenger seat. I wanted to insist she go to a hospital, for her own wellbeing and so I could know she was okay, but I couldn’t think straight that night. I let her go, and afterward, realized I would probably never see her again.

When I got home after leaving her, I had paced and paced. I hadn’t felt anything towards another woman for thirteen years. Despite trying to move on, no one had fit the bill, and then this woman barged into my life, beaten and attacked, and it had been like my soul already knew her, and had been waiting for her. I found it hard to believe that anyone would feel that kind of connection more than once in their life. I’d had it. I’d had it, and it had been taken from me, and I knew there was no chance of experiencing it again, until—

“Evelyn,” I said, not reaching out my hand, “You must be Hannah’s friend.”

I saw her eyes close off and recover quickly. She understood. She wasn’t an immature girl with no idea about the politics of romance.

“Yes, yes,” she said as if reaffirming it to herself, “Hannah’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

Hannah looked between us and then grumbled.

“You could have at least shaken her hand, Dad.”

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