“Hello, Father.”
Chapter12
Ro
“Ambrose.”
My father’s voice always set me on edge. I hadn’t exaggerated to Tessa—my father was usually angry or disappointed with me. When I was younger, I’d wanted to please and impress him. Honestly, I’d barely spent much time with him, and didn’t know him. Once I got to know him as a man, it hadn’t taken me long to realize I didn’t want to be anything like Niall Langston.
“I didn’t expect you to call again so soon.”
“You didn’t let me finish last night.” He made a sound. “I assume you’re busy jetting around playing hotelier.”
I felt a muscle tick beside my eye. “Why are you calling, Father? I said everything last night. I have work to do.”
“Then I’ll make this quick. I’m calling to invite you to my wedding.”
I closed my eyes and looked at the ceiling. I tried counting to ten. When I opened my eyes, Tessa was watching me with worry on that expressive face of hers.
“Father, you can see whoever you want, but surely since you barely finalized the last divorce, why get married again? There’s no need.”
“There’s every need. I love Trinity.”
I ground my teeth together. “How old is she?”
“Age is just a number, Ambrose.”
“How. Old?”
“She’s about to turn twenty. An adult.”
A teenager, and my father was in his sixties. My fingers gripped the phone. “She’s a teenager. Don’t do this. Don’t get married again.”
“It’s my life and my decision. You’ve taken all the other ones away from me.”
“Fine.” Tiredness washed over me. I needed to contact the lawyers and get a prenup arranged.
“Good. So save the date. The wedding will be mid-winter.”
“I won’t be able to make the wedding, Father.” He started making blustering sounds. “I need to go now.” And call someone to rescue me and Tessa. “Goodbye.” I ended the call and drew in some deep breaths.
A small touch on my arm had me lifting my head.
“I’m sorry. I always envied people who still had their parents, but something’s telling me not to in this case.”
“My father wanted to invite me to his wedding—his sixth—to a nineteen-year-old woman called Trinity.”
Tessa winced. “Isn’t he in his sixties?”
“Yes. But they’re inlove.”
She pursed her lips. “Maybe it’s the real deal?”
I scoffed. “Just like the last five times. Love is a concept developed to excuse people for doing stupid things.”
“Wow, you’re a true romantic.”
“Have you ever been in love?” Suddenly I was very interested to hear her answer. My fingers curled around the edge of the crate.
