Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I folded it one more time and left it on the bed. I'd worry about the paper later. I was more concerned about the pile of fabric at my feet.
Even in a crumpled pile on the floor, I recognized it instantly. An Inn uniform, the kind the bellhops and front desk employees wore.
What the hell? Why would my dad have an Inn uniform? My heart sped up, leaving me dizzy.
There was no good reason for him to have an Inn uniform. None. He didn't work there, and the uniforms were expensive. No one on the staff would have left this lying around. He had to have stolen it. My knees weak, I sank to the edge of the bed, mind reeling with the implications.
Not exactly sure why I was doing it, I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the closet shelf where the cap that matched the rest of the uniform sat, hanging over the edge. I photographed the uniform in its pile on the floor, then lay it across the unmade bed and took one more picture. Then another of the paper I'd found, front and back.
Was I going to tell West?
Hadn't I just promised him that if I knew anything I'd tell him right away? I had.
And I'd meant it when I said it. I did. But the implications of my discovery were so much bigger than I'd imagined.
Mostly because I hadn't imagined I'd learn anything at all. I hadn't let myself think that my dad was behind the break-in, much less that he was the one who'd been trying to destroy Royal's Inn.
I sank on the edge of the bed, staring down at the carpet between my feet, heart racing, chest too tight for a deep breath. Was there any other reason my dad would have an Inn uniform? Anything at all? I could explain away the cash as leftover poker winnings, but not the uniform.
I had to tell West. And Royal.
Royal. My heart ached at the thought of Royal. How could I explain this? He would hate me. How could he not?
You can't keep this a secret.
I couldn't. I wouldn't lie to him. He deserved better. Did that mean I was going to turn my dad in to West?
“I thought I'd find you here. Just can't do what you're told, can you?” my father asked, his voice hard.
I looked up to see him leaning on the door frame, his dark hair falling into his eyes in a rakish wave, his blue eyes sharp. How could I have thought Royal was anything like this man?
Darren might have been my father, but he was a liar and a thief. An opportunist and a con man. Nothing about him was like Royal.
“Why do you have an Inn uniform, Dad?” I asked. I glanced down at my phone, half-hidden by my hip. The camera app was still open. I flicked a thumb to swipe to the video setting and hit the record button. I couldn't get my head around turning my dad in to West, but after the way he'd lied about the contract to Grams, I wanted proof.
“None of your business. What are you doing in my room going through my things, Daisy?”
I thought about coming up with a cover story, but I was tired of all the lying. “Grams said you denied borrowing any money, so I went up to show her the contract you signed, but it was gone. Did you break into my apartment?”
The sly grin that spread across his face was all the answer I needed. Of course, his words were more lies, but the truth was all over him.
“Don't be ridiculous. Why did you have to tell her about the money? I told you I was going to take care of both of you. Bringing my mother into this was a mistake.”
“Your mother, my grandmother. And the last time we talked about this, you threatened to have me charged with theft.”
“Daisy, girl, you take everything so seriously. Break things off with your boyfriend. He's too cozy with the police chief. Then all you have to do is forget about the money, come back to work where you belong, and everything will go back to normal. You can live over the bakery and do whatever you do with your little fairy friend, and we'll pretend none of this ever happened.”
I stared up at him in shocked amazement. Was he insane? He wanted me to break up with Royal, had called J.T. a fairy, and thought after that—and everything else—there was any chance I was going to come back to work for him? For him?
No fucking way. Not ever. I wanted to storm out and never see him again. I stayed where I was. I still needed answers, not that it was likely my father would admit to anything.