Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Cam. As in … Cameron Cooper? My father.
“Mom.” Rose stomped her foot, triggering pink and purple lights on her sneaker. “Brian said a bad word.”
“Oh, honey. You must be so shocked.” The woman ignored Rose, gathering my shaking hands into hers. “Why don’t we head to the library? Mr. von Bismarck reserved it for us for the whole day. I’ll send Cameron a text to meet us there.”
You look just like your father.
Philomena’s words bounced between my skull. I remembered them, clear as day, just as I remembered every word she said at the cafe. Most notably – Cameron is dead.
Yet, he blinked back at me from the couch across from mine, sliding stylish prescription glasses up his sharp nose. And no, he looked nothing like me. Not with his big green eyes, or flat brown hair, or heavily freckled cheeks.
All these years, he’d always been a figment of my mind. Like an oversized cloud, unable to form a distinct shape. I never settled on a height, or size, or hair color. Only the idea of him. Someone who would love me unconditionally, no matter what life threw at him.
My stomach knotted as I stared, unable to form a single word. He kept his gaze steady and unflinching, allowing me to soak him up like a sponge.
Finally, I managed to break the silence. “You’re alive.”
A grin hiked up his cheeks. “Fortunately.”
“Philomena told me you died. That you killed yourself.”
“She certainly wishes.” He reclined on the sleek leather sofa, an arm propped up on the rest, surprisingly relaxed. “Phil always had a mean streak. I see it’s still alive.”
We sat alone in the giant library. Cooper’s wife, Melinda, had taken the kids – my siblings? – to the aquarium while we talked. For the most part, I’d spent the past half hour simply staring, inking every inch of my father into memory in case I never saw him again.
The tattoo peaking past his navy Henley. The laugh lines bracketing his cheeks. The air of quiet strength that rolled off him in heavy waves. If I hadn’t done the math beforehand, I wouldn’t believe that he could be 52 or 53.
I toyed with the boba in my milk tea, stirring them with my straw. “I think she said it to rattle me. As payback for not playing along with her scheme. Now that I think about it, I was stupid to take her word on it.”
“You weren’t stupid, Briar. She’s your mother, and you believed her.”
When he said it like that, so confident and matter of fact, I almost agreed.
“Well, I shouldn’t have.” I moved on to the pastries, keeping my hands busy with matcha cookies that crumbled at the touch. “How did you find me?”
“A private investigator reached out to me last night.” Cooper waved off the waiting staff when they approached with menus. “He said his client sent him to search for me, and we hopped on the soonest flight when he mentioned your name.”
“His client?”
“An Oliver von Bismarck.” His eyes twinkled again, and I wondered how he could be so relaxed in this situation. “I Googled him on the flight over.”
I winced, rubbing the back of my neck. “The articles are mostly lies.”
Obviously, I didn’t need Cooper’s approval to date Oliver, but I wanted it. Something about the way he stared at me – with real, genuine affection – stirred up emotions I thought I’d buried.
And Oliver. He’d never replied to the text I’d sent when I landed in LA, but the second he did, I planned on rewarding him with anything he wanted. He did good. Real good.
Cooper waved me off. “Even if they aren’t, I’ve done far worse.”
I matched his grin. “Like what?”
“Like slept with a married woman.” He scratched his temple, punctuating his words with a shrug. “By then, Phil already made her way around the building’s tenants, and I suppose the only option left standing was me. The lowly doorman.”
My eyes widened to saucers. “You weren’t her only affair?”
For all that fuss Philomena had made over Jason’s constant flings, she never once mentioned hers. But it made sense. At the café, it sounded like my mother had admitted to intentionally getting pregnant through an affair. Jason couldn’t have kids of his own, so she sought them elsewhere. Perhaps to trap him in the unhappy marriage.
Cooper finished off his English tea and set the saucer back on the coffee table. “Not even close.”
“Is that why …” I trailed off, not sure how to pose the question.
He offered me an amused grin. “Why we don’t look the same?”
I nodded but didn’t ask the real question I wanted to.
“You’re my biological daughter if that’s what you’re wondering.” Cooper’s eyes softened, and his voice came out gentler. “Even if I didn’t raise you, even if we don’t share the same last name, even if you choose to walk away and never turn back, you will always be my daughter.”