“I have a meeting in my office, but I should be done in an hour.” I jump at my father’s words and close my laptop before he can see what’s on my computer screen. My shameful secret.

His eyebrows rise in a question.

“Sorry, you scared me. Just looking up recipes,” I lie. He gives me a half-smirk, seeing right through me. I’m the world’s worst liar. I don’t even know why I try.

“I’m asking my client to join us. Can you make sure there’s enough?”

“Yeah. I’m going to start dinner here in just a second. I’ll make sure there’s plenty.”

He walks into my bedroom and bends and kisses the top of my head. It makes me smile.

“I’m glad you could make it home. Even if it’s just for a few days.” He’s said this every day since I got here, making me feel guilty each time. I almost didn’t come home for the holiday. It was selfish, and when I’d brought it up to my father about not coming home, I took it back immediately when I heard the disappointment in his voice. It was Christmas, and I was a brat for even having the idea. My father and I are all the family either of us have.

All because I didn’t want to run into him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask my father who the client is, but I don’t. I’ve never asked something like that before. It’s not uncommon for my father to take meetings in his home office. He works from home even more when I’m here, and I don’t want him to catch onto me. My father is good at catching things like that.

“You’re just tired of eating take out,” I tease him. The only time Dad eats food that isn’t from a restaurant or in a to-go box is when I’m home to cook for him.

“I can deny that, but I’ve missed you.”

I reach up and fix his slightly crooked tie.

“I missed you, too,” I admit.

“Only a few more months and I’ll have you back in the city with me for good.” He smiles at his own reminder. Graduation is fast approaching, and he couldn’t be prouder. Me, I’m kind of freaking out. The whole what-am-I-going-to-do-with-the-rest-of-my-life question looms. But I’m one of the lucky ones. A lot of the other students I went to school with didn’t have a dad like mine. They didn’t like that their kids got degrees in fine arts and spent all their time playing an instrument. That wouldn’t put food on the table.

“Dad, you know I’m not coming back here, right?” He stiffens a little at my words. “I mean, back here.” I point down to the floor, indicating my bedroom. “I’ll be getting my own place.”

“That trust fund is already kicking me in the ass.” He lets out a deep sigh. “I know, sweetheart, but just keep in mind there are condos for rent in this very building. I could get you one now if you’d like to hold it. I’ll even buy it if—”

I cut him off. “Dad, don’t you have a meeting?” I don’t want to get into this conversation again. I’m not shooting down the idea, but if I tell my father I’m mulling it over, he’ll push for more and I’ll end up back in this bedroom again. My dad is just too good at negotiations, and I’ve learned to try and avoid them because I crack. I can’t help it when he goes all sweet, loving dad on me. I hate when he gets that disappointed look on his face.

“All right.” He kisses the top of my head again before leaving me alone in my room. I reopen my laptop and look at the New York gossip column I’d just hidden.

Looks like Sidney Grant spends the night at Calder Cox’s once again. Below the headline is a picture of Sidney exiting what I’m assuming is Calder’s place. The same woman he’s always pictured with. The same woman he’d left my father’s party with after kissing me.

They are always seen together at events. It’s rumored they are planning a secret wedding. I can’t seem to stop myself from reading each and every article I find on them. I’m starting to think I’m a masochist.

I shut my laptop again and pull myself away from my bedroom, making my way to the kitchen to make dinner. I’ve cooked dinner every night since I got here Christmas Eve. Dad makes a list of things he’d like me to make while I’m in town and I check them off one by one each day. I saved his favorite—stuffed chicken—for last, and I’m making it tonight. I won’t be cooking tomorrow night since he’s hosting a New Year’s Eve party, and I leave for school midday on New Year’s Day.

Pulling out the chicken, I get to work preparing the dinner and setting the table. I go ahead and set a third in case someone might be joining us like Dad said. Unwanted butterflies take flight at the possibility that it might be Calder. I chastise myself for the thought. He has a girlfriend, I remind myself for the millionth time. I hate that I have on a crush on a man who’s taken. It feels wrong on so many levels. I never want to be that girl, but here I am.

I stop myself from going to my bedroom to make sure I look okay, because it doesn’t matter. Even if Calder is coming, he isn’t mine and can’t be, even if he kissed me like I belonged to him. Kissed me like he was made to kiss only me. Made my body come to life and want things it had never wanted before.

When I hear voices in the dining room, I still, trying to hear them. I can’t make anything out until my father calls my name. Taking a deep breath, I enter the dining room, and there he is, sitting to the left of my father at the dining room table. I’m going to have to sit across from him for the whole meal. Maybe I can eat fast.

“Felicity, you remember Calder from the party last month, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Cox.” I give a little nod before taking my seat. His bright eyes stay trained on me, and I can feel them move over my body. He looks just as good as that first night, only tonight he seems a little more laid-back, not so put together. His suit jacket and tie look to be long gone. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt are rolled to his elbows, the button at his collar popped. Even his hair looks like he spent the day running his fingers through it.

He just continues to stares at me, the room completely quiet. As if finally noticing the yawning silence, he nods. “Nice to see you again, too, Felicity.” My name rolls off his tongue like he’s said it a thousand times before.

My father’s eyes go back and forth between us for a moment. “You heard Felicity play, didn’t you?” my father asks, and I wonder if he feels the tension, too. Or maybe I’m the only one who feels it at all. For all I know, Calder kisses hundreds of women and that one meant nothing. Maybe he was drunk and doesn’t even remember it at all. Which is disheartening. I can’t get any part of it out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, that moment is there again. I can still recall the taste of scotch on his tongue that night. I don’t think I’ll ever taste it and not think of him. It will be branded in my mind as long as I live.

“Yes, she was quite impressive.”

I feel myself blush at Calder’s compliment. My normal shyness comes to the surface like it always does. I’m sure he can see the blush hit my fair skin. I can’t hide it even if I want to.

“It’s not something she shares with many people. I’m one of the lucky ones. Seems you are, too, now,” my father boasts, making me smile over at him.

“But isn’t that what she goes to school for?” Calder asks, catching me off guard. My eyes go back to his, and I find his gaze still fixed on me.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Maybe teach,” I half-mumble, feeling a bit uncomfortable because every time I say this, I get the same response from people. Teaching is the one thing I keep coming back to. The only thing that makes me feel comfortable. Teaching or giving lessons to kids. My own teachers tell me it’s a waste of my talent. That I should be out in the world, sharing my music. I don’t even respond to the comments anymore.

“You don’t want to share your music? It was breathtaking.”

I shrug, disappointment lancing through me. I don’t even know this man beyond what I’ve found online, but something in me wants him to get it. That every time I send a piece of my music out into the world, it feels like I’m sending a piece of me out, too. Like willingly giving my diary out for anyone to read the pages.

A smile spreads across his face as if he likes my response.

“I hear you’re getting married, Mr. Cox.” The statement pops out of my mouth, even surprising me. I glance over at my father who looks equally surprised. Something about Calder has me doing things I don’t normally do. Maybe it’s to do with all these things he’s making me feel. I’m not typically one to ask the questions. I have to be cornered into a conversation or I’ll disengage myself.

One would think if I was crushing on someone, my shyness would be ever present, but maybe it’s the simmering anger I have pushing me on.

“Never been engaged.” That smile spreads even farther, his perfect smile shining through. I really feel the heat of a blush hit my face now. I’ve been busted. He knows I’ve been reading about him. It’s written all over his perfect face, and it makes my anger a little bit deeper.

“Oh, haven't popped the question yet?” I push on, the rage fueling me.

My dad lets out a deep laugh. “I don’t think anyone will ever get Calder to finally tie the knot. A confirmed bachelor at heart like me.”

“You got married once,” I correct my dad, knowing he married my mother and a quick silent divorce followed. She was gone just as fast.

“I’ve seen what marriage can be like first hand with my own parents. It’s not something I’ll put myself through. I sure Bill here would agree.”

I look over at my father who is looking at me. He might call himself a confirmed bachelor, but I’ve never seen the real roots of that. Women weren’t coming and going. I’ve never even seen him date. I have seen him make googly eyes at his secretary, though.

My father does the half-shrug I often do, before picking up his glass of scotch and taking a drink. It makes me smirk. Yeah, confirmed bachelor, my ass. Dad might be a hard lawyer out in the world, but he’s a gooey-soft family man when he’s at home. I think he’s faking the whole I-don’t-want-a-woman thing because of me. I always come first. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to move back here. I want him to find someone. I know he wants it but just won’t say it.

I go back to eating my chicken. My father changes the topic to some company merger, and I just focus on my plate. Every time I glance at Calder, he’s just staring at me, so I eat fast, wanting to get away from this table before I snap another question at him. I feel hundreds bubbling inside me. Ones I really don’t want to say in front of my father.

“I think I’m going to head to bed.” I push back my chair and stand up. Leaning over, I kiss my dad on the cheek. I can’t bring myself to say anything to Calder, but I feel his eyes on me like they have been from the moment I entered the dining room. My father says goodnight and I exit the room, taking my half-empty plate with me and placing it on the kitchen counter.

After all that, my stupid crush hasn’t dimmed, even after what he said about marriage. That should have crushed it for me. Since I met him, all I can think about is marriage, with little babies, and my own little music studio where I could teach little kids to play. This fantasy grows each day, even when I try to stop it.

I shake my head at my own thoughts. I can only hope that tonight I won’t dream of him once again.