Crazy Love (Emerald Lake Billionaires 3) (23 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Holly sat in her living room, staring through the window. Apart from the misty glow surrounding the streetlights, everything else was hidden in the pitch-black darkness of night.

In another ten minutes her dad would arrive to take her to dinner. She’d wanted to be ready to go when he arrived. Somehow inviting him inside her home seemed too familiar, too intimate. If they left quickly, she’d avoid the awkward moment when she opened her front door and wondered what to do next.

She’d almost called him to say she couldn’t meet him tonight. She had a painting to finish, lesson plans to organize for her class at the community center, and a mountain of dirty washing sitting in her laundry.

She could have told her father she had a tummy bug. The butterflies thumping inside her stomach were more than enough to induce severe vomiting. Or she could say she had a sore throat and didn’t want to risk giving him her bugs.

But those excuses seemed lame compared to the real reason she was having second thoughts. She was scared.

Her father seemed nice, too nice compared to the person her mom refused to talk about. She felt as though she was betraying her mom by seeing him—betraying the one truth she’d held onto through her mom’s illness and the long, lonely days after her death. Her father was supposed to be a no-hoper. He’d abandoned his family and left them to look after themselves as best they could. He’d taken the easy way out of whatever had gone wrong, running away from his responsibilities and the people who loved him.

A car stopped beside the curb. Her father opened the driver’s door and the butterflies in her stomach turned into a herd of elephants. She patted her pocket, made sure she had her wallet and the list of questions she’d prepared for tonight.

She rushed to the entranceway, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Her father stood under the porch light, silently watching her face.

Now that he was here, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think of what she should do next.

“You don’t want to spend time with me, do you?”

Holly hated having the type of face that gave away exactly what she was thinking. “I’m not sure how I feel. There are questions I’d like you to answer. I made a list.”

“Why don’t you ask me your questions at the restaurant? You could tell me how your day has been on the way over there.”

She nodded. Talking about normal, everyday things would make it easier to talk about the hard stuff. She locked her front door and followed her dad to his car.

He opened the passenger door. “I thought we’d go to the Montana Ale Works. It has good reviews.”

“The roasted beet salad is yummy.” Holly bit her lip.

Her dad smiled and headed around the car to the driver’s side.

The ride across town was less stressful than she thought it would be. Her dad had a dry sense of humor. They talked about his art, the next series of classes she was organizing at the community center. It was almost as though they’d seen each other last month instead of twenty years ago.

After they’d ordered their meals at the restaurant, Holly pulled her list of questions out of her pocket.

“Should I be worried?” her dad asked.

“I hope not. I was worried I’d forget to ask you something, so I wrote all of the questions down. If there are any you don’t want to answer—that’s okay.”

“I don’t mind answering your questions. It’s the least I can do.”

She unfolded her list. “Why did you come back to Bozeman?”

“I came to see you. I’ve been watching the Bozeman Community Facebook page for years. When someone posted a photo of you, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know where you’d gone after art school.”

“You’ve been looking for me?”

He sighed. “I never stopped.”

Holly’s hand trembled as she looked at the piece of paper. The logical part of her brain was telling her that if her dad had really been looking for her, he could have found her. He had money, lots of money. Although she’d gone to a lot of trouble to hide the identity of H. Jones from the world, she’d done nothing to protect Holly Miller.

She ignored the questions clamoring inside her head and tried to focus on her list. “What happened between you and mom?”

Her dad frowned. “We had a disagreement.”

“People don’t end a marriage because they had a disagreement.”

“It was a long time ago, Holly. There’s no reason to talk about the past. Your mom died and I’d like to get to know you again.”

Her fingers curled around the list. “What happened between you and mom changed everything. Did you have an affair?”

Her dad’s glance showed Holly just how upset he was at her question. “No.”

“If you didn’t have an affair, why did you leave? We were happy.”

“Not as happy as you remember. Your mom and I changed. I couldn’t stay. I applied to be an artist in residence at the University of Edinburgh. They accepted my application and I moved to Scotland.”

“Just like that? You left us on our own.”

“I put money in your mom’s bank account each month. I wrote you letters, sent you photos. I tried to do everything I could to be a part of your life. But your mom said it was too upsetting for you. She told me to stop contacting you.”

Holly’s mouth dropped open. “You’re lying. Mom would never have said that.”

“Did you see any of my letters or photos?”

She shook her head, too shocked to say anything.

“Your mom never forgave me for leaving.”

Holly closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart. She didn’t know why her mom had done what she had, and she probably never would. There would be time after her dad left to look through her mom’s things again, to try and piece together a life that was completely different from everything she’d been told.

With a shaking hand, she looked down at her questions. “Do you like living in the Scottish Highlands?”

“When I’m in Scotland I live on my own in the middle of nowhere. I enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Don’t you get lonely?” Holly couldn’t imagine living anywhere without her friends. She liked to focus on her painting, but she needed to know she was part of something bigger.

“When I need company I head into Brora. I’ve got another home in Southern Spain.”

“You do?”

Her dad nodded. “The light is incredible. I’ve made good friends, people who understand how I work and what I need. What about you? Will you stay in Bozeman or go back to New York?”

“I like it here. I’d forgotten how cold it is in winter, but summer makes up for it. After mom died I was lost. I know this sounds odd, but living here has helped me find myself. I have good friends, a life that’s so much simpler than the one I was living in New York.”

“It sounds like you’ve found a place to call home.”

“My heart never left.” A waitress arrived with their dinner. She didn’t ask her dad the next question until they were alone. “How long are you staying in Bozeman?”

“I need to be in Seattle for an exhibition in a week’s time. I could stay until then, or leave in the next day or two. What would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Her dad sighed. “At least you’re honest.”

“I want to know you better.”

Her dad reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “That’s a good place to start. You told me you enjoy painting portraits and landscapes, but I can’t find any of your work online. Can I see some of your paintings before I leave?”

Holly nodded. Her dad didn’t know that she painted under a different name. She’d told him about her time in Europe, but he’d assumed that was an extended vacation. He was wrong.

“Last time we spoke you said you were helping your friends organize an art workshop. How is that going?”

She didn’t want to talk about the workshop for her art students. She wanted to know what had happened to her mom and dad. “Everything is ready. I know you don’t want to tell me what happened between you and mom, but I need to know. Mom wouldn’t say anything. Every time I asked she changed the subject and ignored my question. I used to think it was my fault you left.”

Her father flinched. “Nothing could be further from the truth. Did you tell your mom how you felt?”

Holly nodded. “She said I was being silly.” Even now, she could feel the pain that had come with the short, sharp dismissal of her feelings. “She wouldn’t talk about you. It was as if you’d never existed.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would be that bad.”

“Why did you leave?”

Her dad closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I was young and foolish. I wanted to go to Europe, paint where Johannes Vermeer and Gustav Klimt created their masterpieces. Your mom wanted to stay in Bozeman. She wanted more children, the kind of life I couldn’t imagine. There was never a halfway mark with her. It was all or nothing.”

Her dad stared at his dinner. “I stayed in Montana for another year, then two. Your mom wouldn’t even consider traveling for twelve months.”

“So you left?”

“I left. By the time I realized what I’d given up, it was too late. Can you ever forgive me?”

Holly watched her dad’s face. The worry and stress of the last twenty years was etched into his features. He was nowhere near the heartless man she’d grown up thinking he was.

He was her dad. He was as human, as imperfect, and as lost as she’d been.

It was time they both started again. “I don’t need to forgive you, dad. We can’t change what happened in the past, but we can change our future. I’d like to be part of your life, if that’s what you want.”

Her dad smiled. “I’d like that very much. I don’t deserve your faith in me, but thank you.”

Holly wiped the tears out of her eyes. She put her list of questions back in her pocket and picked up knife and fork. “We’d better eat our dinner before it gets cold.”

“I used to say the same thing to you when you were little.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Holly.”

“I love you, too, dad.”

***

Holly watched the students in their art workshop. So far, everyone had enjoyed themselves.

Mia took Holly’s brush out of her hand. “By the time you get around to cleaning this, the paint will be dry.”

“I’m thinking about what we’ve done today. Everyone seems happy.” Holly picked up another brush and started cleaning it. She glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows and the skylights above them. “I still can’t believe we’re actually here. Daniel’s property is perfect.”

“Is your dad going to make an appearance?” Mia asked.

“I don’t think so,” Holly said quickly. “He’s visiting some friends today. It’s strange, but it feels as though it’s only been six months since I last saw him. I can’t believe that more than twenty years have gone by.”

“Just be careful,” Mia warned. “You still don’t know your dad all that well. It’s a big step letting him into your life.”

Holly knew it was. But she really believed they could build something positive out of their fragile relationship. “When I was younger I used to dream about dad coming home. I want to make the most of the time he’s here.”

“When is he leaving?”

“Next week. His exhibition is opening at the Contessa Gallery in Seattle. He asked me if I’d like to go with him.”

“And will you?”

“I haven’t decided, yet.”

Mia hugged Holly’s shoulders. “Whatever you choose to do, make sure you look after yourself. Our submissions for the Gagosian exhibition need to be with Mr. Dupré soon. If your dad’s half the person I think he is, he would understand if you couldn’t see his exhibition on opening night.”

“My dad doesn’t know I’m H. Jones.”

Mia’s eyes widened. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“I’m not sure how. He wants to see some of my paintings. What if he doesn’t like them?”

“There’s no way he won’t like them. Even if the quality of your work weren’t as high as it is, he’d still appreciate your paintings because you created them. That’s what parents do.”

“We don’t have the kind of relationship that you do with your mom and dad.”

“You’re never going to know until you tell him. Does granddad know what’s happening?”

“I called him yesterday. He told me to bring my dad to meet him. He wants to make sure he has good intentions.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Granddad thinks he’s a world expert on men’s good intentions. He’ll probably scare your dad all the way back to the Scottish Highlands.”

“I don’t think dad scares that easily. Talking about good intentions, have you seen Adam lately?”

“Not since our last date. He’s a good person, just not the right person for me. I filled out the Crazy Love app feedback form the other day. I hope Blake puts it on the market. I didn’t find true love, but I did find a friend.”

The door to the loft opened and Holly turned and smiled at Daniel. He was standing uncertainly in the doorway. A woman with blond hair and the same wide-set blue eyes stood beside him.