“Yes, she’s going to Italy for a month, for the show,” Mere explains, unbeknownst to my anxiety, as she pours a glass of water.
I know about the show. But was it already time to leave? “Why the hell didn’t she tell me? Doesn’t she—”
“Dad, calm down. Her mom’s security is flying with her. Clementine talked to Uncle Luke and Uncle Connor about it.”
“How do you know all this?” I join Mere in the kitchen as she turns on the coffee machine. My heart still hasn’t slowed down. Who is joining Clementine? Will they keep her safe like my men? And why the hell is her mother’s security with her? I know Clementine and her mother do not have the best relationship.
“She asked me to tell you, in case you asked.” My daughter peers at me, her gaze free of accusation and disappointment, unlike I expected.
I flop on a chair, feeling more anxious than before.
Mere pulls out a barstool and perches beside me before settling under my arms, taking me by surprise. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Dad.”
My heart cracks hearing her guilt-laden words. “That should be my line, kiddo.”
“No,” she mumbles. “I intentionally told Clem about my birthday and that we don’t do anything special. I wanted to do something fun…with her.” She hides her face in my chest. “I didn’t know she would plan a party, Dad. I swear.” My daughter wipes her face on my T-shirt. “I just wanted to be happy for once on my birthday.”
Her every tear adds an extra weight to my heavy heart. “Your birthday was your mother’s favorite day.” I know she doesn’t remember those early times. “For the first two years, she planned your birthday party weeks in advance. If she’d been here, she’d have gone all out.”
“But…she’s not here, Dad. We are.” Her soft, simple words hold the greatest truth of our lives. “I miss her too. I miss her so much. But we can’t live like this.”
I hold my crying daughter in my arms like I did eleven years ago this morning.
* * *
“You called me?” I step into Connor’s office.
“Yeah, take a seat. Just give me a sec.” He continues typing something on his laptop for a minute before turning his chair toward me. “Sorry, I was in the middle of an email.”
“No worries. What’s up?”
“You know what’s up, Adams. What the hell happened last evening?”
Fuck. I’d hoped he would let last night slide.
Guess not.
I take a heavy breath and recite the answer I’ve been practicing since morning. “Connor, you are my boss and I respect you. But yesterday evening you came to my home as a friend. What happened was my private matter and I don’t think I need to answer anything.”
My stomach clenches a bit saying the words. Even though I just said it, Connor is so much more than a boss. But I’m hoping he’ll take the hint and butt out this time.
As always, my hopes don’t come to life. He leans forward in his chair. His elbows resting on the table. “Then talk to a friend.”
“I don’t have anything to say. I appreciate your concern. But this is for me to handle,” I reply, not accepting the shoulder he’s offering for me to cry on.
I watch as he slowly retreats, sitting back. Looking at me for a long minute, he says, “Very well, then. It’s my job to make sure no person on my team is exposed to an avoidable threat. Even if it comes from one of my own men.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I hiss. He’s clearly insinuating I’m that avoidable threat.
“I want you to get help. I can’t have a loose cannon on my team who is ready to explode, putting him and others in harm’s way.”
“You want me to visit a shrink?”
“Yeah.” Grabbing a card from his desk drawer, he slides it toward me. “You’ve an appointment with Emily in an hour.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Connor. Is this some kind of sick joke?” I get on my feet and my arms cross over my chest.
“This is no joke, Keith. If you don’t see the doctor, I’ll have to pull you back from all the cases.”