His Father’s Addiction

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 10

ELVIS

The sensible thing would have been to caution her, even fire her.

Instead, I stood there and let her hug me.

She pulled away almost immediately, all bright eyes and excitement, then turned and ran out of the restaurant like an overgrown child.

I remained seated long after she disappeared through the door.

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth before I could stop it.

That girl was nothing but trouble.

The problem was, I was finding it increasingly difficult to want her gone.

Twenty minutes later, she reappeared carrying enough shopping bags to start a small business.

She climbed into the car, arranged the bags around herself and grinned.

"Thank you so much, sir."

The smile grew wider.

“Shopping is good. But shopping with a black card? That is a different experience. You are officially the best boss in the world."

I looked at her for a long moment, then shook my head.

"Sometimes I wish you were smaller."

Her eyes widened.

"Sorry?"

"Like a child," I clarified. "So I could buy you a lollipop and send you home."

She gasped dramatically.

Before I could prepare for whatever nonsense was coming next, she leaned closer and sniffed me.

My entire body went still.

"Oh no," she said, covering her mouth. "I did it again."

"Did what?"

"Your scent."

She pointed at me.

"It smells too good. I genuinely cannot help myself."

I stared at her; she stared back. My brows pulled together.

Very slowly, she pretended to zip her lips, produced an imaginary key, and threw it out the window.

After that, she sat properly and faced forward.

"Drive."

The girl was insane.

#########

Peter was waiting at the airport.

Hazel insisted on finding her own way home.

Before I could even tell her to wait, she had already disappeared into the crowd with her shopping bags.

That girl carried enough energy for an entire city

The drive home was quiet. My mind drifted back to Gold Coast.

I could still hear Hazel’s laughter, dragging my hands from place to another like an impatient tour guide.

It had been years since I enjoyed a night without checking the time every ten minutes.

Donald used to say it all the time. "Dad, you've forgotten how to live."

"You must have had a wonderful trip, sir."

Peter's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I looked up.

"What makes you say that?"

"You've been smiling since we left the airport."

I immediately sat straighter.

Had I?

Ridiculous.

"Something happened during the meeting," I replied. "Someone said something funny."

Peter nodded. The liar in me appreciated how easy that sounded.

"Whatever it was," he said, glancing at me through the mirror, "I haven't seen you this relaxed in a very long time."

I didn't answer. Peter had been with me for fifteen years. Long enough to know when I was lying.

"We're home, sir."

I got down, one of my domestic staff, Lilly, took off my jacket.

The front door opened immediately.

"Surprise!"

I stopped walking.

Donald stood in the entrance hall with both arms spread wide.

The grin on his face told me he had been waiting for this moment for hours.

I slowly turned back toward Peter.

"Really?"

Peter smiled.

"Welcome home, sir."

Turned back to my son and closed the distance in a few strides. I have missed him so much.

"I missed you, son."

He grinned.

"I know."

I pulled back and looked at him properly. His beard is bigger now, toned muscles. Pretty much 2 years since he last came back home.

"You weren't supposed to be here until next week."

He shrugged.

"I got bored."

"You flew across the world because you were bored?"

"Pretty much."

I shook my head.

That sounded exactly like Donald. Does things out of the blue without a second thought.

"Come on," he said, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Go shower. Freshen up. I had the kitchen prepare your favourites."

"Bribery?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. At least you're honest."

Donald laughed as we headed inside.

A few minutes later, I was standing in my bathroom removing my tie.

The trip had been short, but I was exhausted.

I loosened the top buttons of my shirt and reached for the cologne bottle sitting beside the sink.

Immediately, a voice echoed inside my head. Your scent is just... I genuinely cannot help myself.

Damn that girl. One compliment, and suddenly I couldn't even wear cologne in peace.

I stared at my reflection. Grey hair and beards. Old enough to know better, and yet blushing over some stupid compliment.

I shook my head.

"That girl is going to be the death of me."

After changing into something more comfortable, I headed downstairs.

Donald was already seated at the dining table.

The moment I sat down, he narrowed his eyes.

I ignored him at first; it became hard to ignore him, even as he kept staring while I continued eating.

Finally, I sighed.

"What?"

He pointed his fork at me.

"You look happy."

I nearly choked on my drink.

"I've known you my entire life, Dad. You smile more in the last thirty seconds than you normally do in a week."

"Is that a tattoo on your arm?"

"Body paint. Washes off." I dug back into the food, hoping he would drop the conversation.

"Body." A slow blink. "Body paint, Dad. That’s strange, a lot has happened"

He picked up the fork and continued eating. His grin slowly spread. The dramatic look on his face should have warned me.

"Who made you do that?" He leaned forward slightly, studying the sleeve as if it were some evidence at a crime scene. "Because I know you. I have known you my entire life, and you do not body paint."

His mouth shifted to one side, having a fun-filled day taunting me. I shouldn’t have this sleeveless shirt.

"Don't tell me you're seeing someone." One hand came up immediately. "Actually, no. Scratch that. That would never happen."

He squinted suspiciously.

"A plaything?" he asked. "Is that what's happening here?"