Chapter 21 – Charlie

Penny’s out shopping. I told her she couldn’t keep wearing clothes that Ella picked out for her forever… Today is just me and Tilly.

“How long’s it been since you got back from London,” I ask, even though I know the answer down to the hour, “a week?”

My stomach lurches as the elevator from the penthouse carries us down forty floors in a matter of seconds.

Tilly squints at me. Her gray eyes look too big on that serious-looking face. It doesn’t seem right that she can have a button nose and dimples on her cheeks, yet also have a woman’s eyes.

Which she rolls at me…

“Get to the point, daddy,” she says.

“I can’t slip anything by you, can I?” I groan.

It’s six days, actually. Not a week. It’s only been six days since Tilly got back from her hockey tour; six days that the three of us have been living together like a family; six days of… happiness.

No matter what’s going on with the business, and all these rumors of Landon Winchester’s imminent takeover attempt, I can’t remember being this happy. It’s like Penny completes me – us. It’s like she’s the missing leg our stool needs to stay upright.

Okay, that’s a crappy metaphor, but you know what I mean.

“Not anymore,” Tilly confirms. “So what are you really asking, daddy?”

I let out a sigh. “When did you get so smart? And don’t roll your eyes! What I’m asking is – are you okay with all of this?”

“All of what?” Tilly asks with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

I groan. “You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?”

Tilly nods, but doesn’t say a word. A wide grin splits her face.

I punch her lightly on the arm – far from hard enough to hurt. “You’re an –.”

Tilly’s eyes widen. I know she’s just waiting for me to say it: ass. But not so fast, I’m not going to the swear jar, not this time.

I recover quickly. “– Irritant,” I say, narrowing my eyes at my daughter. “Yeah, that fits.”

“Get to the point, daddy…” Tilly pouts. We step out of the elevator into the lobby, and walk straight forward toward the waiting black limousine.

“I want to know if you’re okay with all of this. I know I’ve kind of changed everything on you, and I need to make sure you’re okay with it; with Penny. You don’t need to humor me, you know. You always come first.”

“Do you like her, daddy?” Tilly asks as the limousine’s doors slam close around us, sealing us into a calm, polished quiet. As usual, she cuts right to the chase.

My eyebrows kink with surprise. “You know, I’m not sure that’s any of your –.”

Tilly cuts me off. “This is family business, daddy,” she nods seriously. “I’m not asking for myself, of course.”

“Of course.” I say.

Tilly makes a kind of upside down smile with her lips, and leans forward inquiringly. “So?”

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, I like her. I like her a lot.”

The realization comes to me slowly, but hits me with the force of a heavy weight punch. I really do like Penny: quite a lot.

In fact, I think I’m beginning to fall for her – and fall hard. This might all have started as a ruse, but it’s turning into something much, much bigger than that.

“Then that’s enough for me,” Tilly says matter-of-factly.

“Are you sure?”

“Weeell,” Tilly says, stretching out the word. “You know what could make me more sure?”

“What?” I recognize the tone Tilly’s using. It’s the one she always uses when she wants something… Of course, I’m a sucker. I can’t help but give my daughter whatever she asks for.

“Ice cream.” Her eyes glitter with mischief.

The limousine’s engine growls and we merge into traffic. I lean over and ruffle my daughter’s hair. “Come on. Let’s go get your ice cream.”

***

With the ice cream in question acquired, we hop back into the limousine – and quickly get stuck in Manhattan traffic. A couple of slow, lazy turns later, the glitzy shop fronts of 5th Avenue glitter in the late afternoon sun.

I’m lost in my cell phone dealing with urgent work requests. They are all urgent when you own a company the size of Thorne Enterprises. Even so, I know I shouldn’t be acting like this. This is daddy/daughter time.

It should be sacred, not wasted.

“You should do something nice for her, you know daddy,” Tilly says in between long licks of her chocolate and vanilla double-scoop cone.

“Who, kiddo,” I ask, distracted.

“Eyes front, daddy,” Tilly says. She uses another voice this time – the one when I know I’m in trouble. “You spend too much time on that thing.”

A pang of sadness flows through me when I hear her say that. I instantly kill the screen and toss my phone onto the opposite row of seats. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“So?” She says, raising her eyebrow.

“So what? Oh, Penny.”

I pause for a few seconds, studying my daughter intently. She looks so damn young and innocent, yet beneath that front she hides a fiery intelligence. I know that she’s a whole lot more than she seems. It impresses me, but it doesn’t surprise me. I always knew that Tilly would turn out this way.

Then again, maybe all dads think like that. Still, I don’t know about their kids, but I know that my Tilly’s special.

“What do you know about relationships, kiddo?” I ask, grinning.

I cuff her gently around the ear, sending her face flying forward into the ice cream. Tilly rears back with outrage on her face – and white and brown ice cream smeared all over her little button nose. I can’t help but laugh.

“I’m a girl, daddy,” Tilly grumps. “I know more than you do, that’s for sure. You should do something nice.”

“Like what?”

Tilly frowns. “She’s your wife.”

I grin. “Well you’re the expert… supposedly.”

“I can’t do everything for you, daddy. But Penny’s been amazing all week. I’m not an idiot, daddy. I see how hard she’s trying. She deserves it.”

“Swear jar,” I mutter absently. But my heart’s not really in it. My mind’s somewhere else. Tilly’s right, I haven’t been neglecting Penny, necessarily – but she’s been so much more than I could ever have expected, slipping seamlessly into the family life as though she’s always been.

The limo chugs forward another couple of slow, quicksand inches, and a familiar turquoise store comes into view.

Tiffany’s.

Perfect. I’ll buy the whole damn store if I need to.

I lean forward and knock on the privacy partition that separates the passenger cabin from the driver. Not a second later, it hisses down.

“Everything okay back there, boss?”

“Everything’s fine, Tim. Just – I’m going to get out here. Can you get Tilly back home safely?”

“Don’t blame you, boss; traffic’s murder today.” Tim jerks his head forward at a line of stationary cars, all pumping out thick, steaming exhaust. “You can leave Tilly with me. We know how to have fun, don’t we kid?”

Tilly giggles in response.

I ruffle Tilly’s hair one last time, and wipe a stray smudge of ice cream off of her cheek. “Stay safe, kiddo.”

As I’m closing the door behind me, I hear Tim ask, “what’s it gonna be, kid: rock or hip-hop?”

My daughter’s in safe hands.