Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“Bad day, huh?”
Terrible, but I’ll never be able to explain it to Tia. “Something like that.”
“You need a beer.”
She’s right. Or maybe something stronger than beer. “I’m on my way to meet Uncle Todd.”
“Oh, has he got rid of the princess yet?”
Laughing, I start the car and wait for the Bluetooth to kick in. “The princess has locked him out of his own flat, so he’s staying with me until she gets the message.”
Tia bursts into a fit of laughter. “So you two are back to being the eternal bachelors together again, then?”
I hum my confirmation, then images of all the women I’ve dated flash through my mind one by one. “Have you liked any of the women I’ve dated, Tia?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“No,” she answers swiftly, and I recoil.
“None?”
“Not one.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, Mum’s pretty high-maintenance, but, seriously, Dad, every single one of the women you’ve seen are on a whole other level of princess. And Uncle Todd too, for that matter.”
“So, what are you saying?” I ask, ignoring the fact that I’m getting relationship advice from my twenty-three-year-old daughter. And the fact that she’s bang on the money. I can’t refute that after finding a Tiffany’s catalogue by my bed the other morning.
“I’m saying you need to realize you’re forty-two.”
Ouch.
“Who’s flavor of the month at the moment?” she asks.
Month? It’s more flavor of the week these days. “Amanda. Well, she was. I just called it off, though there wasn’t anything to really call off.”
“Dad, you need to . . . oh, crap! It’s the last call for my flight.” There’s a flurry of activity down the line, and I definitely hear someone call Tia’s name. A man. Not a boy, but a man. “Dad, I have to go. Love you.” She hangs up, and I’m left in my car, static and thoughtful for a while.
Until my phone starts ringing, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me. “Fuck,” I hiss, answering as I glance at the dashboard to see who’s calling. “Oh, shit.” It’s too late. The call connects, and Tia’s mum’s panicked voice fills my car.
“Cambodia, Luke! She’s on her way to Cambodia. She’ll be abducted. Or drown in a swamp. I can’t believe I let you convince me to let her go.”
I roll my eyes. “You wouldn’t have been able to stop her. She’s a grown woman.” I won’t be telling her about my own mini meltdown. “Stop worrying.”
“Oh, it’s all right for you, Mr. I-have-no-responsibilities. Living your single life as you please.”
“Hey, I’m a good father. Just because I’ve not settled down and churned out another two kids like you have, doesn’t mean I’m not responsible. Go give someone else an earache, Janet. Like your poor sod of a husband.” I hang up and slam my car into reverse, screeching out of my parking space and then out of the underground carpark. I really do need a drink.
Chapter Fourteen
Todd gives me a what-the-fuck stare when I walk into The Strip but gets straight to ordering me a beer when he registers my face. “If you ask me what’s crawled up my arse, I’ll lump you,” I warn, joining him at the bar.
His lips straighten. “What’s eating you?” I glare at him, and he backs off, hands up in defense. “Okay, bro, I’ll say no more.”
“Tia met someone,” I tell him, rejecting another call from Amanda as I do. She’ll get the message soon enough, surely.
His lips twist. “I’m guessing someone means it’s a dude.”
“A twenty-nine-year-old dude.” I grab my pint and take a huge glug. “He lives in America.”
“Oh, hell no.” Todd looks as horrified as I would expect him to be. “Ain’t no little fucker coming along and taking our girl away to America.” He’s practically shrieking. “No way.”
In agreement, I nod and slug more beer. “And I just had Janet on the phone screeching at me.”
Todd’s lip curls. “Pops did you a good turn there.” He waves the barman over and proceeds to order Scotch en masse. Looks like the car is staying where it is tonight. “So, what’s the plan?” he asks, passing me a tumbler.
I frown as I take the glass. “The plan?”
“Yeah, are we flying out there to claim our girl back from . . .”
“Trent.”
“Trent? What is he, a fucking river?”
I chuckle as my phone chimes and pull it out to find a text from Tia. I smile as I open it but lose that smile as soon as a photo pops up on the screen. Of my girl and a bloke. He has his arm thrown around her shoulder, both of them smiling brightly and giving me the peace sign. The fucking peace sign? His dreadlocks are blanketing Tia’s head, the tie-dye bandana spanning his forehead looking grubby, and his fucking beard looks like a mole could burrow in it. “Great, so Trent looks like Stig of the Dump too.”