“I said her dreams were unreachable without a master’s degree. She had been misled by someone in the department on campus who said she could open her own clinical practice without it. I told her that wasn’t the case. She’d need more schooling. But she didn’t believe me.”
“She also said you cheated,” he said flatly.
I cocked my head. “I can assure you, that never happened. I loved your daughter back then.”
“Do you love her now?”
“What is this about, Mr. Wilson?”
“This is about how you’ve apparently got her under the assumption that things are better between the two of you now. She’s completely convinced of it.”
“Good. She should be. Because they are,” I said.
I watched the man lean forward, placing his elbows on his knees.
“I want you to know that you aren’t going to hurt her again. I might have been gone for some years now, but I’m back. And whether or not anyone enjoys it, she’s my little girl. She’ll always be that giggling little girl in pigtails to me. She’s under the impression you won’t hurt her again. That time has healed things. Helped you grow up a bit. I’m not convinced of that. Not from what I’ve seen.”
Was this man serious?
“Well, that’s your opinion. But it’s unlikely you understand the full grasp of the ins and outs of a four-year relationship in the span of a few phone calls. When I tell you that I will never hurt your daughter again, that’s the truth. I’m a different man, and she’s a different woman. We’re more compatible than ever, and I intend on wooing her the way she should have been back in college. Back when I was a boy still stumbling over my own two feet,” I said.
“No, you won’t. Because this is your warning.”
“What warning?”
“You’ll stay away from her, Brett. I don’t want to see you around her. I don’t want to hear her speak of you. I don’t want to know that you’ve called. The only relationship you’ll have with my daughter is a professional one. Do you understand me?” he asked.
I grinned. “This coming from the man who hasn’t had a relationship with her in twenty years?”
“My daughter deserves better.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself. You’ve been absent for damn near two decades, Mr. Wilson. And when your daughter was up at two in the morning crying in college over your absence, I was the one rubbing her back. I was the one reassuring her that she was worth more than you ever thought of her. When she looked me in my eyes and asked me why you didn’t stick around for her, I was the one telling her that you couldn’t give her the love she deserved.”
“And you think you can now, boy?”
I stood slowly from my chair, leaning against my hands on top of my desk. “I did back then, and I will now. You march into my headquarters and you think that after a few conversations you can waltz in here and be the protective father? Let me tell you something, Mr. Wilson. It takes more than blood to be a father. It takes time. A presence. Memories. Something you threw away the second you walked out that door when Olive was only seven years old. Her mother picked up those pieces. I picked up those pieces.”
“You will pick up nothing else!” he exclaimed.
“This is rich, coming from a man who was supposed to be the number one to his daughter. You disappeared, and I’m not convinced it was for the reasons you and your ex-wife fed to Olivia. Twenty years is what you have to make up for. And you won’t do it in a week.”
“You’ll stay away from her, or I’ll intervene every chance I get,” he said.
“Do your worst. Now, get the hell out of my office,” I said lowly.
“I’m so sorry to barge in on you like this, Brett, but I was hoping we could—”
The sound of Olivia’s voice snapped me back in a heartbeat. I watched Daniel fly out of his chair and turn around, smoothing his hands down his shirt like he had the dust of another day to wipe off in order to cover up his tracks. I cracked my neck and stood up, looming over Daniel as I stood behind my desk. Olivia’s eyes bounced from me to him and back again before she furrowed her brow deeply.
“Daniel, I thought we were having lunch today. Not breakfast?” she asked.
“The two of you are having lunch,” I said.
“Yes. We are. I don’t need anyone’s permission to have lunch in my daughter’s office,” Daniel said as he looked back at me.
“What are you doing here?” Olivia asked him.
“I just came by to have a little talk to Brett. That’s all. I wanted to see how he was doing,” Daniel said.