I get my head out of the clouds and make my way into his office. “Yes, Daddy?”
“Something’s different about you. What’s going on?”
His question causes a chain reaction of nervous movements—tucking my hair behind my ear, scratching my eyebrow, fidgeting with the buttons on my shirt. My father can’t discover I’m sleeping with his potential employee. Actually, Tobias is more than that. Daddy plans on making him head of his own division, and here I am sleeping with a future executive. Possibly fucking it all up. “Nothing’s different.”
My father studies me, and I do my best to keep my face passive even though my heart is racing. He finally relents, deeming me the same, and says, “Let’s discuss Tobias. Tell me everything you know about him.”
Instead of telling him he enjoys kissing me and snuggling close, I simply shrug. “I’ve told you everything I know.” Well, relevant things. Not personal things Tobias told me in private.
“No strange calls? No mystery guests? Nothing?”
I shake my head. “No.” My mind quickly returns to the other day when he took a phone call, and when I asked who it was, he told me no one. But how can I even think it’s something Halo related?
“Have you talked to him about staying here?”
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I hope Tobias is feeling even a smidge of what I am. Would he stay for me? Do I want that? Yeah, I do.
“I haven't talked to him much,” I say, hoping my father finds a shred of honesty within that statement.
“Interesting.” It’s like my father senses something and I wish he’d just say it instead of beating around the bush.
“What’s up, Daddy?” I ask, parking a hand on my hip.
“Nothing. I’m just wondering about Tobias’ character.”
“What about his character?”
“Well, is he a good guy? Does he generally care about the people he signs?”
How could he even ask this? I think back to Tobias encouraging me to go for my own singing career. To chase my dreams. So yes, he cares about the artists. And I need to tell Dad about my dreams.
I suck in a deep breath, knowing I need to have this conversation one of these days. “Daddy.” I step closer. “Can I talk to you?”
My father’s already sifting through papers on his desk and doesn’t even look up when he says, “Sure, what’s up?”
I want to tell him about my songwriting dreams and how I’d love to work in that field, but I can’t find the right words. “Um…” My words fail me as my father’s phone rings. He stares at me, and then holds up one finger to take the call. “It’s nothing.” I spin on my heel and head out of his office as he answers the phone.
One of these days, I’ll tell him. Yet, one day flows into another and then another goes by. Time will keep ticking, and it’ll be another ten years before I tell my father what I really want.
“Hey,” Tobias says, walking up beside me as I turn a corner. He reaches out to me, but I sidestep him.
“You can’t touch me here.” I shuffle him into my office. “We can’t be seen together like that.”
Tobias’ brows draw together. “I know.”
I blow out an exasperated breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell my father I’ve been sleeping with his star recruit.”
Tobias looks different. Despondent. His tight-lipped smile is forced as he stands with his hands at his sides. “I get it.”
I plop into my office chair. “My father will never understand.” I study him. The worn out look in his eyes. Like he’s been fighting a battle. “Is everything ok?”
Tobias steps closer but remains on the other side of the desk. “Sydney, I need to talk to you.”
I gaze up into his eyes, but he’s not meeting mine. Must be serious. “Sure, what is it?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I… um, I…” His words never come because the door bursts open and my father barrels into the room.
“You asshole,” he says, pointing a finger at Tobias. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
I bound from my chair. “Daddy, what’s going on?”
Tobias doesn’t say a word, just stands there, letting my father continue his assault.
“You gonna tell her or should I?” My father’s mustache twitches with anger at Tobias. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this mad.
Oh, god. Did he find out about us?
“I can explain,” I say in a rush to get the words out before my father assumes the worst.
My father turns to me. “You knew?”
I give him a pointed look. “Of course, I knew.” Are we talking about the same thing here?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He’s so angry.
I inch closer to my father. “We didn’t know how. We wanted to wait. I really like him, Daddy.”
My father tilts his head. “Like him? What do you mean?”