Page 25 of Mile High Baby

"I'm not here as Henry’s guest. I’m here to work. To keep him and his daughter and the rest of you safe. The best way for me to do that would be to have a room on the main floor. Can that be arranged?"

They both nodded.

"Of course," Mrs. Tillis said.

"You will be able to keep them safe, won't you?" Knightly asked. The guy looked too old to be working, but I knew the loyalty he had to Henry. It was the same loyalty I felt, except when I considered what I had done to his daughter.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that they're safe." If we survived this, it would be a fucking miracle.

10

Victoria

When I came down to dinner, I prepared myself to deal with Alex. There wasn’t an extra place setting at the table, which told me my father hadn't been able to change Alex's mind and have him join us for dinner. I was relieved because I couldn't look at Alex and not be snippy with him. His attitude was maddening, even as I recognized that it had to be awkward for him. I mean, I got it. Alex had sex with his friend’s daughter. I understood how creepy that might seem.

But I wasn't a child. I was a grown woman. And Alex was right in that had we known the connection between us, we probably wouldn't have had sex. We couldn’t change the past. We had to simply move forward. It seemed to me we could do that without Alex being a jerk. Then again, for all I knew, that was his regular MO. In fact, it probably was as I recalled how he called me a brat before he even knew me on the airplane. Which once again begged the question. How had my father and Alex become friends?

"It's wonderful to have you home again, Tori," my father said, sitting at the head of the table while I sat along the side. "I wish it were under different circumstances, but—”

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Dad? When I was at Saint Security today, I got the impression that taking on George Pitney was even more dangerous than I had originally thought."

My father extended his hand, putting it over mine and giving it a squeeze. "I’m very sorry to have brought you in on this. And I promise you, I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."

"What about you?”

My father’s face turned determined. "Someone needs to stop him."

"And what if he stops you first? Then what? He’ll still be doing all the things that he's doing, only you’ll be gone and I'll be alone. You're the only family I have."

My father's expression filled with regret. "I know that, sweetheart, but I have to pursue this. Besides, you're not totally alone. You've got Knightly and Mrs. Tillis and Caroline."

I rolled my eyes. "I love them all, but they're not my family." I had never met my mother, and even now, I didn't know who she was or whether she was still alive. My father had said she didn’t want to be a mother. He said he wanted me, but I suspected that was because he didn’t want me to know that he’d been unsure. After all, he was only twenty-two, not in love with my mother, and from a family that would most likely feel shamed by the situation.

My grandparents’ version was slightly different and clearly held a bias against my mother. They didn't think she was good enough for my father, and I suspected they paid her to continue the pregnancy and then to go away. I was fortunate that the love from my father was such that the idea of my mother abandoning me for freedom and money didn't impact my self-esteem. But it didn't mean that I wasn't, on occasion, curious about her. Right then wasn’t that time. And even if I learned about her or met her, she wouldn’t replace my father.

"My plan is to survive. And whether I do or I don't, you're going to live a productive life. Someday, you'll meet somebody and fall in love and have kids of your own."

I shook my head. "You know I don't believe in fairytales, Dad."

He laughed. "I'm not talking about fairytales. I'm talking about finding somebody you can build a life with."

"You didn't.” I wasn’t totally against marriage and family. It just wasn’t part of my plans now.

My father’s smile faltered and he looked down at his plate. "Are you settled on the third floor?"

I guess we were changing the subject. "Settled enough. It still smells like Grandmother’s rose-scented lotion."

"We can have Mrs. Tillis make any changes that you like."

I shrugged as I mashed copious amounts of butter into my baked potato. "I don't mind it. Kind of makes me think of her."

My father arched eyebrow at me. "In a good or a bad way?" I understood where his question was coming from. My grandmother hadn't been the plump, cookie baking, spoil the grandchildren type. She’d been cool, aloof, elegant, and more concerned about appearance. But she was dedicated to her family, and when it was important, she had been there for me. She’d been the closest thing I’d had to a mother. Granted, many of the important aspects of maternal care were pawned off to Mrs. Tillis, like buying my first bra or teaching me how to use menstrual cycle products.

"Not bad, but hopefully, I won't have to stay too long."

My father feigned a pained expression.

"It's not that I don't like being here with you, Dad, but—”