Page 12 of Playing Hard to Get

“Vivian?” I froze as Daddy set his newspaper down and stood. He wasted no time crossing the wide room to me. “Miele, what are you doing here?”

“I live here, Daddy. What do you think I’m doing here?”

He took my shoulders in his hands and kissed me on each cheek. “I know that. But I didn’t know you were in town. When did you get in?”

I shrugged my shoulders to knock his hands off me, then headed for the kitchen. The omelet Mitch made was amazing, but I didn’t get my fill—of the omelet or of Mitch.

“Last night,” I said over my shoulder.

“Last night?” Daddy grabbed my wrist and pulled me so hard I stumbled and bumped against the dining room table. “Where the hell were you, Vivian?”

Scowling, I wrenched my arm out of his grasp. “With a friend.”

“What friend?”

My brow furrowed as my head whipped back. “Oh, that’s rich. Now you care about me?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Daddy’s voice was menacing as he glared at me. I was taller than him in my heels, but he made me feel only two inches high. I straightened my back and raised my chin.

“It means, dear father, that you’ve never once given a damn about who I was with in the past. In fact, I’ve been away for the past three months and I haven’t heard one word from you. Did you not realize that?”

He waved his hand in the air as if he could brush away what I said. “You’ve been traveling for work.”

“Yes. Traveling. To India, Africa, China, Japan. I’ve been all over Europe. Did you know that? Do you even care?”

“Vivian—”

“Daddy! I was gone for three months. And you’re throwing a fit about not knowing where I was last night? What the hell does it matter?”

“It matters,” he told me as he took a step closer. “Because you’re my daughter, Vivian. I want to know when you’re in town. I have meetings scheduled all day. If I’d known you were here, I would have cleared my calendar.”

“Don’t bother. I’m not staying.” I had no plans to go anywhere else, but I didn’t want to stay in his house. Part of the reason I left the country in the first place was because of him.

“Where are you going?”

“What does it matter?” I stomped off across the travertine tile toward the kitchen, though my appetite was quickly fading. I threw open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. When I shut the door, Daddy was right there, his dark eyes softer than before.

“Frankie and Corey are home today. Dinner is at their place tonight. Will you be there?” His tone had changed, from the obsessive, overbearing bastard he always was when he came down on Frankie about her friends, to the sweet, kindhearted man who’d shown his head so rarely in my life. Who’d showed his head more since last summer.

I took a swig of water as I tried hard to calm down. My cousin and her boyfriend. No. Her fiancé. Daddy used to despise Corey and every other man that so much as breathed in the same air as Frankie. But ever since Corey took a bullet for Frankie last June, Daddy changed his tune. Now it was the Frankie and Corey Show. All. The. Time.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“They’d love to have you.”

“Who’ll be there?” I asked. My insides twisted at the thought of Frankie’s best friend showing up. I didn’t know if I could handle that.

“Just family,” he said.

A long breath filtered out of my lungs. Daddy was big on family. Though some threw the term around to encompass their closest friends, when Daddy said it, he meant blood. And now, apparently, Corey.

After a quick nod, I walked away. There were no words called after me, no footsteps following. My father’s sudden interest in my life had waned as fast as it sprung up.

My heels clacked against the tile steps as I trudged up the stairs. A weak light flickered out into the hallway as I passed my brother’s room. A quiet clicking in short bursts pulsed through the air. I hadn’t seen my brother in months. Hadn’t talked to him in weeks.

My twin-brother.

My hand rapped lightly on the clean, white wood, and I pushed the door open a notch. “Vin?”