"Dad," I say, heat rising to my face. I feel my cheeks burning. But instead of dodging the question, I tell him the truth. All of it. I have never been one to lie. "I did, actually. His name's Flynn. He's the kind of guy," I swallow, wanting to choose my words carefully, knowing my father is going to remember them, "he's the kind of guy who makes me believe in love."
"You didn't believe in it before?"
"I believed in the idea of it. I just hadn't ever experienced it."
"And you experienced it last night?" my father asks dryly as he lifts his cup of coffee to his mouth and takes a sip, studying me. I wonder what he sees. Day-old clothes and messy hair, mascara that's probably crusted against my eyelids. I don't care though. I've never been one to care about appearances or fake apologies or skirt around the truth.
"Dad, I do love him. I know it's crazy to meet someone and fall head over heels, but that's what happened last night. I wasn't with Lucia. I was with him, Flynn."
"Does Flynn have a last name?" my father asks.
"No, I mean, he does, but I don't know it."
"You fell in love with a man you don't even know?"
"I know him," I say, adamant. "At least I know the parts that matter. He lives in LA," I add.
"Yeah?" Dad says. "What else?"
I rack my brain for details. What do I know about Flynn? I know he makes me feel good. I know when I'm naked against his body, I feel like a million bucks. Those aren't the kind of answers my dad is looking for, though. "I know he's a bodyguard. He works hard. He has a lot of tattoos. He's had a rough childhood. His parents are dead. He really respects his boss. He loves the ocean just like me. He likes to work out, though the gym he's been going to isn't really his scene. He wants a dog, and maybe a picket fence. And 2.5 children."
My dad laughs. "Fifi, all that in one night?"
I shrug. "I told you, it was an instant connection, chemistry. And you're going to know him for the rest of your life so you better memorize those details. His name is Flynn and I love him, Daddy. I do."
"I feel like you're going to get hurt," my dad says, chuckling as he takes a bite of his eggs.
Esmeralda brings me my Bloody Mary and I take a drink. It's perfectly spicy. I twirl around the pickled green bean in the glass before taking a bite.
"I know it's insane, but after losing Mom, I guess I've always had the sense that time is running out or that it's precious. And there are no guarantees. Tell me this, Dad, do you wish you had waited longer to marry Mom?"
My dad frowns. "You're telling me you're getting married now? It's been, what? One night? Not even twenty-four hours."
"So?" I say. "There are crazier things than falling in love at first sight."
"Maybe so, but, Fi, think this through. You don't even know the guy. I need to run a background check stat." He reaches for his phone on the table and I can already imagine the text he's about to send to one of his business associates, probably my Uncle Liam O'Malley, typing something along the lines of, "Background check on a Flynn in LA. I have no idea what his last name is, but Fifi thinks she loves him."
I bet they’ll find the inside scoop on him in five minutes flat. But I don't want the inside scoop. I want to learn everything about Flynn face to face.
"Look," I say, "I don't want to argue with you. I just want to tell you the truth and be honest."
“I want you to be happy, honey. It's all I want. Yesterday you came here saying you were quitting college and now you're telling me, what, you're ready to have some guy's children?"
I blink, not wanting to get emotional, wanting my tears to stay at bay. "Dad, you might think this is crazy. Heck, I think it's crazy. But I'm going toward it. I'm not running away. I'm not scared of falling in love, of my life and my dreams changing in the blink of an eye. I want wild and reckless love. And I want that again for you one day too, Daddy."
"You know no one will ever replace your mother."
"I know," I say gently, "but it's been six years."
"This isn't about me right now," he tells me, his voice soft, gentle, "but thank you for thinking about me. If I ever start dating, I'll let you know. In the meantime, when do I get to meet this man?"
"Tomorrow," I suggest. "He could come over here for breakfast."
My dad smirks. “Let me guess, you're going out with him tonight and you don't want to spend any of that precious time with your father?"