Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

As I end the call, negative thoughts swarm like a thick tornado, threatening to engulf me. Where could he have gone? Even though Cherrywood is a safe place, accidents aren’t completely unheard of here.

I shake my head immediately. Stop it, Daisy.

“Dave, can we please reroute?”

The driver’s brows furrow, but he nods as I relay my dad’s address.

Next task, Call Jimmy.

“Hi, Daisy. I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. Thank you so much for getting Charles to agree to the interview.”

“Jimmy, I won’t make it to the town hall in time.”

“What?” His exuberant speech falters. “No! You have to be here before Charles. He’s gonna flip if he doesn’t see you. We can’t turn back now after coming this far.”

“I can’t, Jimmy. It’s my dad.” My throat tightens. “Everything will be okay. Just tell Charles I’m in the next room or something. I’m sure he’s not going to be there even a second early. I’m sending you my notes. Please make sure everything’s set up in a way that makes Charles comfortable. At least as much as he can be.” My stomach churns, twisting into knots while I imagine Charles facing the press.

“I can’t believe this. You’re serious.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hear Jimmy’s sigh through the phone. “Okay, you take care, but I hope to see you soon.”

My relief is muted, covered in worry and anxiety both for Dad and Charles. My hands shake as I end the call and open the texting app.

Me: Best of luck.

Boss aka Charles Asshole Hawthorne: I don’t need luck. I just need to get through this. Are you on your way?

Me: Almost there.

Cold sweat breaks out on my forehead as I text the lie, but it’s better if Charles doesn’t know beforehand about my absence. He will create a scene, or worse, he might not arrive at the venue.

Boss aka Charles Asshole Hawthorne: See you then.

As Dave turns onto my block, my phone buzzes.

Aunt Mel: Fred and his buddies found Jason at the cemetery. He’s disoriented and doesn’t remember how he got there.

A pang hits my chest as I step out of the car.

Uncle Fred, Aunt Mel’s husband, is waiting for me on the curb, a weak smile lifting one corner of his lips as I approach.

“He’s safe,” he whispers as I hug him. “I’m sure he’ll relax when he sees you.”

I take the porch steps two at a time, and my chest clenches as I find Dad in the living room, staring at the blank TV.

“Dad.”

He turns toward me, confusion clouding his brown eyes. “Um, Daisy?”

His doubtful tone squeezes my heart, but I muster fake bravado and walk inside.

“Of course it’s me, Dad. Your Doodles.” I kneel before him. “Or do you have any more secret daughters I don’t know about?”

My joke only makes Dad think harder.

Stupid, Daisy!