What if she doesn’t show?
He disconnected the call. If she didn’t show, it meant she wasn’t interested in moving on. It meant he hadn’t misread a damn thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Where are you?
Arden glanced at the text message from her father and sighed. It took a little more effort than normal to type a reply. Being heartbroken and sleep-deprived impacted her text game. She hit send and returned her attention to the wall of high-definition screens displaying different areas of the resort in slightly grainy resolution. Or maybe it was her eyes that were grainy? She rubbed the heels of her hands over them and then blinked back the salty burn that kept threatening whenever she had a moment to herself.
You don’t need this torture. Your bags are packed. Your flight booked. Just go.
She should. She’d already dealt with Sonja’s disappointment over, quote, “being abandoned” in the middle of the spontaneous mother-daughter getaway she’d envisioned. After that scene, Arden figured she should have had her fill of drama. She should have been ready to escape the risk of more. But she couldn’t. She had to know if Nick actually showed tonight. Rightly or wrongly, she was going to take away a measure of hope if he stood up Arden St. Sebastian. Her reckless heart wanted to take it as a sign he really did want to…visit Siberia.
He’s five measly minutes late. You can’t take that as a sign of anything.
A few seconds later Luc let himself into the small security room. “Since when did you relocate the lounge to the security closet? You didn’t clear that design change with me.”
“Ha-ha.” She propped her hip on the bank of cabinets behind her and hooked her hands along either side of her neck. Carefully, she circled her hea
d, working kinks out of the muscles.
“Yes, I am very funny. Also very curious. Why are you hiding in here, instead of waiting at the bar for the perfect match I went to great pains to arrange for you?”
“Dad, can you please just…” An exasperated breath poured out of her, leaving her lungs empty, but when she tried to drag more air in, she burst into tears.
“Mon dieu. Arden.” He was at her side instantly, guiding her into the leather swivel chair in front of the monitors. “Sit. Tell me what’s wrong. You’re overwhelmed. Under too much pressure. Rafe hinted at this. Tell me who to throttle, and I’ll have it taken care of.”
“Dad.” She shook her head and tried again. “Dad, there is someone who needs to back off.”
“Who?” He knelt beside her chair. Eyes nearly identical to her own, but far more worldly, stared back at her with genuine concern and utter cluelessness.
“You.” She said it as gently as possible, then sniffled and waited for his reaction.
“Me? I don’t understand.”
“Ever since you stepped down from the board, you’ve been on me, questioning my decisions—”
“I’m taking an interest in your career,” he defended.
“You’re making me feel like you don’t trust me to do my job. Do you have a problem with my results?”
“Of course not. I enjoy discussing these things with you. I find it fascinating to understand why blue, and not gray. It’s a side of the business I never had the opportunity to give much attention to before, and—”
“You don’t care about gray versus blue, and you’re not just questioning my professional judgment. You’re literally in my face, or calling, or texting. You send me a half dozen ‘Where are you’ texts a day. It’s got to stop. You’re making me crazy.”
“Is it so wrong for a father to want to know his child is well? To feel he must keep vigilant in case some…some”—he muttered a rude word in French—“attempts to harass and blackmail her?”
Shit. This was where losing her temper with her father got her. “I’m fine.” She sniffled again and wiped her eyes.
“Yes. Yes. I can see. Obviously.”
“You have to give me some space, Dad. I know how to take care of myself. I can manage my own life.”
He sat back on his heels and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine for you, but then what will I do?”
She laughed. “Run a hotel?”
“Pfft.” His eyes scanned the ceiling. “Where is the fun in that?”