Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
I walked over to the parent who’d caught my eye, a British transplant named Julia. She’d moved to Italy after a divorce, I remembered, and was raising little Oscar on her own.
“Can I ask a big favor?” I said quietly. She nodded and leaned away from where she was wiping icing off her son’s jacket. “We just got news that my husband’s mother had a fall, and she’s in the hospital. She’s housebound, so she couldn’t be here today, but we need to get over there to figure out what’s going on as quickly as possible. Could you possibly get the news around to other parents that it’s time to head out? I don’t want to put any more on him right now.” Gio’s parents were both deceased, but no one needed to know that.
Julia’s eyes went wide. “Yes, yes, of course. And if you can’t bring snacks on Wednesday because of this, just text me, and I’ll cover. Everybody will be gone tout-suite!”
She patted my hand and hurried off. Dahlia tried to catch my eye again, but I dodged her. I couldn’t talk to someone I cared about now, not without falling apart.
I trailed listlessly into the front hall. They’d have to come down the main stairs anyway, and I could either head back into the party or out the front door with ease.
Out the front door? I definitely didn’t want to meet some whack job pretending to be my dad, but did I actually want to meet my dad after twenty years?
Gio’s office door opened and closed. I held my breath until they rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. My mother looked surprised, most of all, but Gio looked irritated.
My heart beat out of time. I didn’t know who I wanted to be standing at our gate, but it seemed whatever answer I was going to get didn’t please my husband.
They made it to the bottom of the stairs, and I grabbed my mom’s hands.
“Well?” I whispered.
She glanced around. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him but… it looks like him.”
My stomach swooped. Blood roared in my ears. He’d been gone for so long I had no memory of him, and he was standing on my lawn on my son’s first birthday.
Panic slowly melted into something else. I didn’t know how he knew to come here today, of all days, but if he could find me in a fucking mafia compound in Italy, he could have found me whenever he damn well pleased.
I turned on my heel and stalked for the door.
“Carina!” Gio caught up to me quickly. “Are you certain this is a good idea? We have no idea what kind of man your father is.”
I whirled on him. “I know exactly what sort of man my father is,” I hissed, still cognizant of the party in the other room. “He’s the sort of man who disappears for a couple of decades and shows up whenever it suits him. He’s the sort of man who’s getting kicked out of my fucking house on my son’s birthday. That’s what sort of man he is.”
I continued to stomp toward the door. Gio kept pace, not stopping me, but not letting me go alone either. Even through my anger, I was grateful for his steady presence at my side.
Mom hung back. “I’ve done my time putting up with him,” she said. “You should handle this.”
I nodded resolutely and flung open the door. At the gate, I could see a lanky, sandy-haired man leaning against the bars.
“I’m telling ya,” he said. His voice sounded thin, hoarse, but unmistakably bore the Florida accent I’d grown up around. “If you just let me in, I can make this all make sense. She’s gonna recognize me, and you’re gonna look like a real jackass.”
The gate guard scoffed. “Good luck with that, pal.”
My furious steps had finally brought me level with the gate guard’s booth, and the man outside’s eyes shifted to me. My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t recognize his long-limbed build or his thin, light hair, but his eyes….
I had my father’s eyes. I’d never known that before.
“Is that—” he started. “Livi? Olivia?”
I pressed a hand to my mouth as my stomach roiled. Mom called me Livi. Only Mom did that. The name didn’t belong in the mouth of this stranger.
The door to the house opened behind me, and party noise rolled out. I’d told the other parents to leave, and this was the main exit.
I whirled to the gate guard. “Let’s go this way.”
“Carina—” Gio put his hands up.
“I want to talk to him. People are coming out. We’ll take him to the garage or the shed or the fucking stable, whatever you’ve got that gets him out of the way without putting him in my house,” I snapped.
Gio nodded, and the gate slid open.
The man stepped inside. “Livi, I’ve got so much to—”
I put a hand up. “First, you don’t call me that. Second, you don’t say anything until we get inside. Gio?”
He nodded, his eyes steely like they had been when he first came down the stairs, and he led us purposefully to the garage. Hopefully, Julia hadn’t been at the door and didn’t think to ask any questions.
I hadn’t spent much time inside of any of the wide, quiet outbuildings, but it seemed the right place to face this intruder. As the door closed behind us, leaving us in the white glow of the LED lamps Gio’s men used to service his cars, I turned to the man.
“Alright,” I crossed my arms. “So you think you’re my dad.”
He frowned slightly. “I am your dad. You can ask your mom, if you two still talk.”
“Of course, we talk,” I scoffed, ignoring the years of my childhood when she was too busy to attend anything for me. “But fine, I’ll ask. Who should I tell her you are?”
He swallowed and wiped his hands on his pants. He was wearing plain denim jeans and a flannel shirt buttoned all the way up, with the sleeves pushed back to his elbows–a little off for the weather, something in my brain noted.
“Sal,” he said. “Salvatore, if you’re particular, and Montgomery, if you’re looking for a last name. Look, I just wanna—”
“Let me explain something to you, Sal.” I took a step forward. “You showed up on my property out of the blue after you ran out on my mom twenty years ago. I’m running this particular interview, and if you don’t like that, you can go back to where you were before I came outside.”
He put his hands up. “Spitfire like your mom, I see.”
I blinked. Spitfire? My mom? I knew her as a workaholic who did her best not to drown under the responsibilities of being a single mom.
A gulf opened up in me. This man knew a version of my mother I never could, no matter what promises she made about coffee and moving to Italy.
I steeled myself. That didn’t mean he deserved anything.
“Let’s start with where the hell you’ve been for those twenty years,” I said.
Gio put a hand on my shoulder, and I liked knowing I had six feet of man behind me to back up any threats I needed to make.
“Well,” Sal raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “To be blunt, I got in the sort of trouble that requires a man to disappear. I never wanted to leave anybody, but I wanted you and Amanda dead even less.”
I pursed my lips. “What sort of trouble?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen my daughter in twenty years, and she wants to hear about the worst mistake of my life? I don’t think so. Rest assured, I’ve outrun it now, and I wanted to see if there was anything here to rekindle.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Or at least I wanted to see you once, all grown up.”
My mouth fell open, and all the fight went out of me. He wanted a relationship, after all these years?
Did I?
Gio stepped forward. “If you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Montgomery, how did you find Olivia?”
Sal shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard once I figured out she went to school in Italy. Ain’t too many American ex-pats running around Florence, after all.”
