Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
The breach of my privacy is the least of my worries. I’m staring down much bigger problems now.
My dad is going to freak when he sees this.
“This is not good,” I say weakly.
“Can you contact them to take the pictures down?” Lee frets.
Jamie laughs. “Yes, because that’s a thing tabloids do.”
“They’re paparazzi. I can’t stop them from taking photos of me on a public street.” I moan, handing back the phone. “Fuck. Fuck! He’s going to kill me. He’s legit going to kill me. With his bare hands.”
“Maybe— ”
The doorbell rings, and Lee shrieks in frustration.
“Make it stop! Can we not be left alone today!”
“This is getting rather ridiculous,” Jamie remarks as he wanders into the hall to answer the door.
Two seconds later, a familiar male voice fills the flat.
“Where is she? Where is my daughter?”
I freeze. Oh my God.
I’m done for.
Deceased.
Scatter my ashes.
41
MY FATHER STUMBLES INTO THE LIVING ROOM AND SKIDS TO A stop a second later. When our gazes meet, I’m genuinely concerned about his appearance. He’s beyond frazzled, eyes rimmed red from exhaustion, hair messy and unruly as he rakes a hand through it. He’s wearing wrinkled jeans and an old band sweatshirt. Not a Gunner Bly one. Aerosmith. It’s faded and worn, one of his favorites.
The air is thick with tension, pouring off him in palpable waves. Dad’s suspicious gaze travels around the room.
It briefly rests on me.
Then Lee. Jack. Jamie.
Then returns to me.
“Oh, hello,” Lee says, gawking at the middle-aged rocker standing in our living room.
Dad ignores him. “Who the fuck are these people, Abbey?” he demands.
I swallow the lump of fear in my throat. “Um. They’re my roommates.”
Silence crashes over us.
Endless hear-a-pin-drop silence.
Chest rising as he slowly inhales, Dad stares at me for an eternity and a half. Then he speaks in a low, deadly voice.
“I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”
The guys remain frozen in place.
He barks, “Get lost!” and they scatter like rats fleeing a sinking ship. I don’t think Lee even puts on his shoes. The front door slams behind them.
“Dad— ” I start.
“Sit,” he orders, pointing at the dining table.
I scramble for a chair and try again. “Dad— ”
“No. Don’t say a word, kid. Not a word.”
We sit at opposite ends of the table, my hands so clammy I have to wipe them on the front of my pants. The silence drags on again. It’s unbearable. But it also gives me plenty of time to consider how we got here. All the opportunities I had to tell him the truth about my living situation but choked on my words, because the lie was easier to live with than the consequences.
I did this to myself.
“You saw the photos in the tabloids,” I finally say. This time, he doesn’t cut me off.
“Yes.” His jaw is tight.
“But how are you here now? They were literally only published an hour ago.”
“Some asshole from the Daily Star emailed my publicist at five o’clock this morning asking for a comment to go with the story.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Man, they work fast. The vultures were hungry.”
“Eleanor knows to contact me at any hour if it pertains to my kid,” Dad says flatly. “She texted me the photos they sent her. I took one look and booked a flight out.”
He looks haggard. Half a day of traveling does a number on anyone, but I suspect the tired wrinkles around his eyes and limp posture are evidence of the shock it gave him to see his daughter plastered in the pages of a magazine, photographed with random men, including a notorious British lord.
This was a difficult transition for him, my year abroad. And now that he’s discovered I’ve been lying to him, it justifies all his fears.
I knew better. I anticipated this very moment but convinced myself I could prevent the inevitable. Or at least delay it long enough to enjoy myself in the meantime.
Unfortunately, I never did come up with a plan for when it all blew up in my face.
“Okay,” I start. “That headline is bad, but I promise you, it’s not as bad as it looks— ”
“Yeah, let’s circle back on that one,” Dad interrupts. He pushes hair off his forehead and searches my face. “First and foremost— who are those boys, these roommates?”
“They’re exactly who they said they were in their emails. Lee, Jack, and Jamie.” I bite my lip. “Only difference is they’re not girls.”
“Did you know this from the beginning?”
“No. I swear I didn’t. I truly thought I was rooming with women.
I promise.”
He exhales, dropping his elbows to his knees. “You lied to me, Abbey. And not just once. This was a pretty elaborate scheme. I wouldn’t have thought you could be so conniving.”
Hearing him say that hurts more than I expected. It’s like a dull knife stabbing at my chest. I hate disappointing my dad. Even worse, there’s genuine pain in his eyes. It guts me.