Daddy’s Law by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 19

Ava

Iwoke up before he did, which was surprising considering I wasn’t much of a morning person.

Theo looked completely different when he was asleep. Younger. Peaceful. He was always so serious during the day, only showing his softer side to Cory and me. To everyone else, he was a solid and unwavering statue, an almost imposing presence.

I studied the minor details of his face, my fingers itching to pick up a pencil to sketch him. I noted the lines in his brow, the light crinkles near the corners of his eyes. The gray streaks in his hair, traces of white coming in near the temples. He was in need of a shave, though I liked how his stubble made him look rugged and mysterious.

I eventually found the strength to roll out of bed, pulling on my clothes in a hurry when I remembered that Cory was down the hall and would likely be awake any minute now. I had to rush downstairs and make it seem like I’d been in an entirely different part of the house, not spending the night with his father.

That was a line of questioning I wasn’t prepared to answer so early in the morning.

Theo didn’t stir. I let him sleep in a while longer.

I descended the stairs carefully, taking great care not to have any of the wooden floorboards squeak under my weight. I finally arrived in the living room and placed myself on the couch, clutching one of the decorative cushions close. My phone was on the glass coffee table where I’d left it last night. Out of habit, I checked to see if I had any messages.

Lo and behold, there was one from my father in good old cryptic fashion.

Meet me for dinner tonight. I have important matters to discuss. 7pm on the dot. Don’t be late.

I sighed. This was par for the course for my father. It was always on his time, his schedule. It didn’t matter if I had plans or somewhere else to be. He expected the people around him to drop everything the second he snapped his fingers.

He wasn’t always like that. He used to remember to say please and thank you. When he ran for state senator and won his seat, he started expecting a certain level of convenience. An aide at the ready to assist with whatever work needed filling. Someone to pick up his dry cleaning, drive him around, cook his food. And apparently that attitude had extended to me.

I messaged him back saying that I’d be there after I was done teaching class. He had to at least give me that much.

The shuffling of feet upstairs alerted me that someone else in the house was awake. Cory descended the steps, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked confused to see me, remaining on the bottom step.

“Miss Cruise?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

I smiled. “We watched that movie pretty late last night, and your father was too tired to drive, so I slept on the couch. All night.”

“Oh,” Cory replied, none the wiser. “Well, that’s good. It’s not safe to drive when you’re sleepy.” His expression fell as he stared at a spot on the floor. “Yeah. Good.”

Heavy footsteps descended the stairs. Theo was up, too, dressed and ready for the day. He patted Cory on the shoulder. “Come on, buddy. Breakfast and then class. Why don’t you show Miss Cruise what cereals we have?”

“Sure. We’ve got everything in the cupboard.”

I nodded and stood up. “I’ll be right there.” Cory traipsed into the kitchen, out of sight. I walked over to Theo and showed him the message from my father. “Do you think you could drop me off at his place tonight?”

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Cory was out of sight before kissing me on the cheek. “Of course, sweetheart. No problem at all. I’ll call my buddy to come watch him while we’re there.”

I chanced a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

* * *

The promise of the weekend helped the day pass quickly. As far as I was aware, we were still on for the Van Gogh exhibit. The thought of spending a whole day with Theo and Cory at an event I’d been looking forward to for ages helped me get over the fact that I had to get through dinner with my father first.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, I repeated to myself as a soothing mantra.

Dad’s home was as ostentatious as ever, and the increased security detail roaming the perimeter made the whole place look like a prison. It was unfortunate that Dad was one of those politicians. Controversial even though they were effective. I wished I could say that this was an uncommon sight but growing up under his care while he launched his political career made this all too common.

I smoothed the front of my shirt, more than aware of how clammy my palms were. I wasn’t afraid of my father. I just dreaded our conversations.

“You’ll be fine,” Theo said as we stepped up to the front door of Dad’s house.

I managed a stiff smile. “Thank you.”

Dad opened the door with a snort, looking between me and Theo. “You’re early.”

“Didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“I’d prefer it if you were on time,” he said. “What if I’d been on an important call?”

“Were you?”

“Dinner’s ready. Leave your shoes at the door.”

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” Theo said to me.

Dad shook his head. “Come with us. What I have to say concerns you both.”

I tried to swallow the sticky lump lodged in the back of my throat. “Both of us?”

“Is that a problem?” Dad inquired, making it sound like it certainly would be a problem.

“No, no problem,” I muttered quickly.

The house, as always, was cold and uncomfortably quiet. I wasn’t sure if my father ran hot or if he liked to keep the temperature below freezing to make his guests uncomfortable. He probably did it for the power trip.

Dinner was already set out on the dinner table, though there were only two meals. Theo was only here to serve in a security capacity, not as a guest.

Tonight’s menu consisted of lobster ravioli and a side Caesar salad. My mouth would normally be watering by this point were it not for the fact that my father was such terrible company. If I dug in the way I usually did, he’d no doubt make a comment about my table manners or lack thereof. That was my whole life growing up with him.

Never perfect. I was always doing something wrong.

“How have you been finding things?” he asked me, taking a sip of his white wine. He didn’t offer me anything, so I stuck with water. I definitely could have used something alcoholic to numb the experience.

“Things are fine,” I said. “My art program’s going great. I have some very promising students.”

“I meant with your bodyguard.”

I poked a piece of ravioli around my plate with a fork, praying that my face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Fine.”

“And there hasn’t been any unusual activity to make note of?”

I almost choked on a bit of lettuce. Oh, if only he knew. “No, nothing at all.”

“I was talking to Mr. Phillips.”

Theo had been standing off to the side, back to the wall. His back was ramrod straight; hands folded neatly in front of him. I’d almost forgotten what he was like when officially on duty. Proper, by the book, alert like he was expecting to be attacked from every direction at any given time.

It was kind of a turn on.

“I have no suspicious activity to report, sir,” Theo answered flatly. “Have there been any developments on your end that I should know about?”

Dad wiped his mouth on the edge of his napkin. “Yes. The police have been keeping me informed. It turns out that the man who tried to attack me at the fundraiser wasn’t working alone.”

I frowned, concern eating away at my nerves. “Does this mean you’re still in danger?”

“A politician’s always in danger. That’s what happens when you’re vocal about your opinions.” Dad took a long sip of his wine. I knew it was deliberate, intended to keep me on the edge of my seat. That’s what made my father so good at his job. He knew exactly how to control a conversation, to make people hang on his every word. “It’s a small group, no more than ten people. Eco-activists and whatnot. They didn’t take too kindly to my plans to support a highway project.”

I sat next to him, dazed. What was I even supposed to do with that information?

“I’ll be getting back out on the road soon,” Dad continued. “Another campaign to boost my numbers before the mid-term polls. I want you to come with me.”

I pursed my lips. “What for?”

“My analyst got back to me last night. I’m trailing behind with the educator demographic. Apparently, my support of a proposal last year to decrease the state’s education budget didn’t go over too well. I’d like you to make a statement in support of me. It’d be good for my optics.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about. I worked for a private school, so it didn’t affect me as much, but I had plenty of friends from school who taught in the public system. The crunch hurt them immensely since they were already low on funding to begin with. I wasn’t unsympathetic to their plights. As a fellow teacher, all we wanted was the best for our kids, and we couldn’t do that if we only had pennies to spend on support material.

“Optics? It wasn’t just a decrease, Dad. That bill slashed our spending by almost a quarter. There’s no way a statement from me would help in the slightest.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “It had to be done.”

“It really didn’t. You could have made good on your promise to tax corporations to—”

“Enough, Ava. You’re only an art teacher. You don’t know the first thing about politics.”

Only an art teacher.

I clenched my fists. This wasn’t the first —and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last— time that Dad said something demeaning about my choice of profession. I was numb to it at this point. At least, that’s what I told myself. Because the second I let him get to me was the second I’d start crying, and there was no way I’d make a fool of myself over someone so heartless. I’d grin and bear it, just like always.

“So?”

Both Dad and I looked up, partially startled to hear Theo speak.

“What?” my father snapped.

“Only an art teacher. You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“This is a private matter.”

“Then you should have left me at the door.”

A chill slithered down my spine. “Theo, it’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” Theo didn’t move an inch. He was cool, calm, collected. He stared my father down —much to my horror and partial arousal— speaking in an even tone. “Miss Cruise is a fantastic instructor. I’ve seen it firsthand. She inspires students to reach their fullest potential. Her students love and respect her. I think what she does is admirable.” And then, like an afterthought, “Sir.”

Dad’s eyes shifted between me and Theo, suspicion brewing behind his sneer. “Is something going on here?”

I blanched. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Are you sure about that?”

I scoffed. “Yes. Theo’s just my bodyguard. Like you hired him to be.”

My father stood up from his chair and approached Theo slowly. It wasn’t much of a standoff, given Dad’s portly stature. He was full of hot air, and everybody except him seemed to know it.

“Good,” Dad said slowly, tilting his chin up to look Theo directly in the eye. “I’m glad to hear it. I’d expect you to find someone much more suitable to your reputation as a senator’s daughter.”

“Dad.”

“She’s a smart girl,” my father continued, speaking directly to Theo.

“I have no doubt, sir,” he answered stiffly.

“Pretty.”

“I have no opinion on that, sir.”

“Is that so? All this time you’re spending with my daughter, but you have no opinion?”

“I have been tasked with Ava’s safety, Mr. Cruise. Her looks don’t play a role in how I conduct myself.”

“So it’s Ava now, is it?”

I abruptly stood up from my chair. “Enough of this. We’re leaving”

“Draft up that statement and have it to me by Monday,” Dad said.

“No.”

He frowned. “No?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting the throbbing pain behind my eyes. “You know what, Dad? I’ve had it up to here with you. You can’t just snap your fingers and expect me to come running at your every beck and call. You can’t make demands of me after you’ve insulted my career choice—”

“I didn’t insult your career choice.”

“Just an art teacher?”

“You’re being too sensitive.”

My nostrils flared. “No, Dad. I’m being honest. If you want to brush me off by calling me sensitive, fine. Politicians like to play with words, right?”

“Ava—”

“I’m going home. Fuck your optics and whatever demographic you’re trying to win over. I’m not going to let you use me as a means to your ends. Next time you feel like inviting me over for dinner, don’t.”

I wiped at my eyes, ridding my cheeks of any errant tears. I wasn’t sad. I was fucking furious. And when I was furious, I cried. I couldn’t help it. That was just the way my body reacted, and I wouldn’t be ashamed of it.

I stormed past my father without another word.

Theo followed close behind.