The door swings open, and I’m greeted with a smiling face that would have been the spitting image of mine if he was a woman. Before I can open my mouth in greeting, my father wraps his large arms around me, lifting me up just a little as he embraces me in his warmth.

Without hesitating, I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent as I will the tears forming in my eyes not to drop. Dear lord, I had no idea that I missed him this much.

“Hey, Dad.” The words come out in a mumble, but he hears me anyway.

“Hey, Pumpkin.”

When we finally let go of each other, I drink in his appearance, noting the greying strands of his golden hair and the wrinkles around his ocean-blue eyes. There’s no denying that he looks worn and tired for a fifty-five-year-old man.

He must have seen the concern in my equally blue eyes because he flashed a crooked smile at me and waved his hand casually. “I’m fine,” he says, but his slightly bent back doesn’t give me much assurance.

I swallow and nod even though I don’t agree with him. “If you say so, Dad,” I reply, and he leads me inside, shutting the door behind us.

Everything about the house looks different, causing me to realize how long it has been since I was here. The wall paint is slowly chipping off, and the furniture and rugs look severely worn out. Even the family picture that sits on the mantel above the fireplace, with Mom and Bryan in it as well, looks ragged, and I wonder how my father feels about that since he stares at it for over thirty minutes every single day—a reminder of what we both lost.

“It’s really sunny out there, Blair. You must be really thirsty,” my father says, already heading to the kitchen to get me water.

Rather than wait in the sitting room, I follow him. “Where’s Henry? He’s usually here by now.” Although my father had to let all the workers go, his loyal butler remained so that my father won’t be alone.

“I gave him some time off to visit his family in Monaco. His daughter just had a baby.” My father grins as he pours water from a crystal jug into a glass and hands it to me. “And before you start to worry, I can handle myself just fine.”

I take the water, but I don’t drink, settling instead for peering into his eyes to see if he’s telling the truth about being fine. “I just don’t like you being alone in this big house. Why don’t you come with me to the city? We can get a bigger apartment and live together, and that way, you won’t be alone.”

My father responds with a resounding no, just like I knew he would. “You don’t even have a job, and the last thing I want to be is a burden to my daughter.” He digs his hands in his pockets and seems to stand straighter. “Besides, I’m not alone. I have Keith.”

“Who’s Keith?” I ask, confused.

My father smiles broadly. “My new manager. I put him in charge of the winery, and I’m pretty sure he’s in there right now, interviewing the new staff.”

I stare at my father with my mouth agape. “You really did it, huh? Rebuilt the whole thing.”

A few months back, he had told me about rebuilding the winery and the vines and starting all over again. Although I had been against it, wishing he would retire and let it go. I didn’t want to see him heartbroken again if it didn’t work out, like the last time he had tried to revive the family business.

But my father remained adamant, and it seemed like his determination finally paid off.

“Not the whole thing. Work on the vines is still in progress, but the winery is completely renovated. You are going to love it, Blair.” He’s practically beaming now, and I can’t help the feeling of despair that washes over me.

Even my father has managed to get things running for him, and here I am without a plan.

An involuntary sob escapes my mouth, and my father rushes to close the distance between us. “Blair, is everything okay?” He takes the water from my shaky hands while I move my head sideways.

Finally, after a long and silent two seconds, I whisper, “I need your help, Dad.”

Chapter two

Alexander

As the sun broke through the blinds, I rolled over to the incessant sound of my 7:00 AM alarm. It’s time to get up and face another day, another chapter in the book of being a single father running a billion-dollar business. With a sigh, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and rub my eyes, willing myself to wake up.

I make my way to the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee luring me forward. My housekeeper, Madam Irene, must have come and gone. She has always been like that, slipping in and out of the house to do her chores every morning, as silent as a ghost.

As I sip on the coffee, prepared just how I like it - swirling hot, dark liquid - my mind begins to race, going through the checklist of the day ahead. Work, board and clientele meetings, and everything else that sometimes makes me want to scream into a pillow.

But today is different; today, not only do I have to coax my daughter, Summer, into going to school yet again, but I also have to welcome a new personal assistant into the company. But I decide not to think about that just yet. Instead, I go over ways I can bribe my daughter into making things easier for me today.

Summer and I used to be inseparable. We'd spend hours playing board games, going on adventures, and laughing until our sides hurt. But lately, things have changed. She had transformed from a cheerful, talkative girl into a brooding teenager with an arsenal of one-word answers. Our once-animated conversations had dwindled to a series of grunts and eye rolls. It was as if a thick cloud had settled between us, blocking out the connection we once shared.

It doesn’t take a genius to know that her newfound attitude to everything and everyone is a result of my divorce from her mother. I had done both Tianna and myself a favor when I handed her those divorce papers, giving her the freedom she desired to be with her young painter boyfriend.