31. Connor
31
CONNOR
I ’m smiling as we pull up to Daisy’s family home.
“He still hasn’t fixed the gate,” she mumbles next to me, looking at who I assume is her father. He stands at the front gate with a small scattering of tools at his feet.
“Are you ready?” I ask, quickly checking my mirrors. We had paparazzi at the front of my building earlier. They followed us for a while, but they obviously got their shot, as I saw them peel off a while ago. I’m somewhat used to them. But I don’t like them always making up stories about people and issues they know nothing about. Clickbait these days is out of control. I also don’t want to subject Daisy or her family to that. Especially before I’ve even formally met them. I need to make a good impression. And with that thought, I jump out and run around to her side door.
“Oh,” she says, surprised.
“You think I left my manners back in Whispers?” I ask her, seeing her father look up at us.
“Well, I guess not.” She laughs lightly, and I help her from the car, grabbing her hand and walking by her side toward her father.
“Hey, Dad.” As she steps up to him, I let go of her briefly, the two of them hugging.
“Hey, Sparkie,” I hear her dad say, and my lips twitch.
“Sparkie?” I ask, smiling, and Daisy rolls her eyes at me.
“She has always been a bit of a firecracker, a bright spark. It’s the red hair. I think it brings out a little fire in her personality. It’s stuck since she was a child,” he says, and I stretch out my hand.
“Connor Whiteman,” I say, introducing myself. I feel my heart thud. I’ve never done this before. Met the parents. While I meet new people all the time, I’ve never felt this nervous before.
“Good to meet you,” he says, his handshake firm. As Daisy starts asking him about the gate, I look at him and the house, taking it all in. It’s a standard suburban street, the house a white single-story, well kept but old. Their garden is neat. Nothing like Whispers, but pretty enough.
Her father looks exactly how you imagine an accountant to look. Thinning hair, glasses, white collar on with slacks, even though it’s a Sunday. He’s taller than Daisy, but not by much. I tower over both of them, my frame bigger than most. There are no signs of meditation, herbal remedies, or fucking crystals in sight.
“You’ve been fixing this for weeks,” Daisy says as I look back at the gate.
“I need something to stop the neighbors' kids' balls coming in and ruining my daisy bushes. That one I planted with you was thriving until the soccer ball from next door hit it.”
“Daisies?” I ask.
“I have my garden full of them. After our Daisy here,” he says, and Daisy smiles adoringly. I look around the small garden, and sure enough, there are daisy bushes everywhere, most in bloom, looking full and lush.
“We make tea with them. They have just as much vitamin C as a lemon. Good for coughs and colds,” Daisy tells me. I swear this woman could live off-grid for years if she needed to.
“You’re here!”
I look up, seeing Rainbow, Daisy’s mother, step out the front door, and the smile on Daisy’s face is instant as she hurries over to her. It’s heartwarming to see.
“Oh, you brought the hunk of s—”
Daisy’s quick to interrupt. “Mom! You remember Connor?”
I step forward to greet her. I’ve met Rainbow already at Sunshine. Hell, she saw me checking Daisy out the minute we met. I rub my eyes at the thought, embarrassed. Yet not at all remorseful. Daisy has a great ass, and I still look at it every chance I get.
“Good to see you again.” I offer my hand, and she tuts.
“None of that formal stuff. We believe in the healing nature of touch in our home… Come here.” Grabbing me by the upper arms, she pulls me down and gives me a small hug. She’s just how I remember. Thin, long black hair with streaks of purple and gray. Her natural appearance has a little more warmth than what I remember. The visions of her as a witch are less so today, even though she’s still dressed similarly, her dress flowing.
“Shall I brew you some tea?” she asks me, and I glance at Daisy.
“Some of that tea you made me at Sunshine would be amazing, if you have it?” I ask innocently. Daisy’s eyes widen, and I try hard to tame my smirk. It tasted like shit, but I will throw it back. Not that I need an aphrodisiac, as just looking at Daisy gets me going.
Daisy’s mom’s eyes alight, oblivious to my filthy thoughts about her daughter, and her grin is instant.
“Oh, I knew you liked it. I will get a pot going.”
I’m happy that I have her mother’s approval already. Now I just need to work on her dad.
“Are you still going with that gate?” she asks her husband, and I look at it again and take in the tools he has out. It’s clear that he doesn’t work with his hands very often.
“I can help you out, if you’d like?” I offer, because from the quick glance, I’m pretty sure it just needs a small tweak and a re-screw.
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Rainbow says as she loops her arm around Daisy’s. “We’ll be inside if you need us. Dahl and tea will be ready soon.”
Daisy takes a quick look at me, and I give her a nod, telling her that I’m fine, and I watch them both walk inside, talking about herbs and tea and a myriad of other things.
“Rainbow’s dahl is some of the best you will ever try,” he says to me.
“So I’ve heard. I’m looking forward to it,” I tell him, smiling, before I look at the gate. “Do you want me to have a look?”
“Sure.” He sighs like he’s given up. “I’ve been trying to fix this for weeks, but working with the tools isn’t really my forte.” He steps back as I roll up my shirtsleeves and get to work. I’m a businessman. I work on computers and with numbers every day, probably not unlike Daisy’s father. But my dad made me learn every tool and every home and outdoor task since I was a kid. By age five, I could pick a lock. At eight, I was mowing lawns and cutting trees at the distillery. By ten, I could change a car tire. By fifteen, I could service a vehicle, sleep in the forest without a tent, and chop a load of wood for a fire. I have learned many things, some of which I still do today, and as I pick apart the lock and reattach it, using different screws to adhere it to the gate, I feel confident in my abilities.
“A real-life MacGyver,” he murmurs, making me chuckle.
“Not really, just lucky with a few tools is all,” I tell him before I stand up and test the lock, the gate now fixed.
“I have read up about you.”
I’m not surprised. One simple online search yields thousands of results about me, some of them true, while others, not so much.
“I would expect any father to do some research on where their daughter is working,” I tell him, nodding.
“You’re extremely successful. You and your father.”
I nod. “We are. We worked hard for it, though.” I want him to know I’m not just some rich kid living off Daddy's money. I met a few of those in college, and most of them are assholes.
“You have an office here in New York as well?” he asks.
“I have a full office and staff team in the city, so I divide my time between here and Whispers, usually.”
“How is Daisy doing in Whispers?” With that question, I notice he’s looking at me more carefully.
“She’s doing great at the distillery. The spa is amazing; she’s done a really incredible job. Whispers and she seem to go well together.” I wonder where he’s going with this.
“I’m a little familiar with the area. My wife was born into a commune from up that way.”
I raise my eyebrows. I’ve heard that there are communes around, but we never see anyone in Whispers who is from that lifestyle.
“Really? I didn’t know,” I tell him honestly, because Daisy never mentioned it.
“Daisy doesn’t know where it is, and I would like to keep it that way, if you understand my meaning,” he says, his gaze on me now hardened. I don’t know much about communes, but I know they’re an alternative way of living, some more restrictive than others. Cults being the more extreme end of that spectrum. I think about Soren. His visits still feel a little weird to me. My security team didn’t find much about him, though, so I assume he also lives off-grid. He certainly looked like he does.
“Do you know a man named Soren?” I ask him, my interest now piqued.
“A crystal supplier of Rainbow’s. I don’t know him well and tend to leave Rainbow to manage her own business contacts. But I think they know each other from the commune days, so again, he’s probably not someone worth having around much, if you can help it. They all get a bit territorial. Rainbow got out and never went back, something I don’t think was well received. So we keep away. Not wanting to bring up old issues.”
I nod, still not really understanding it all, but pocketing the information away.
“Well, I don’t know the location of any communes, so I certainly won't be taking her near any. Daisy is safe with me,” I assure him, and his eyes narrow.
“From the way you’re speaking, it seems you have feelings for my daughter. Is that right?” he asks, watching me like a hawk. Waiting for me to trip up. But I rarely trip up. Daisy is the only person with the talent to do that.
“I do,” I say confidently, taking in a breath, not prepared for this conversation so early on in meeting him. But he’s obviously worried about his daughter. I look back up to the house, not seeing her, yet my heart chakra feels like it’s pulsating. A month ago, I didn’t even know what a fucking chakra was, and now I feel it in my body. She’s under my skin. My feelings for this girl are building to a level that almost scares me, and I hope I get his approval.
“You will look after her? While she’s in Whispers?”
“I will look after her for as long as she lets me,” I tell him, letting it be known that I’m in it for more than just the timeline of her working arrangement. We haven’t talked about it. Daisy and I are just getting to know each other and enjoying each other, but the weeks are going by fast, and I already know I don’t want it to end. But given how much she misses her parents, maybe Whispers isn’t the place she wants to be, and I would never make her choose. My answer must appease him because he gives me a small smile.
“Well, she tells me you are a Jets fan, so you get my approval,” he says quickly with a clap on my shoulder, grinning before picking up the tools. I smile. I now see where Daisy gets her sassy and sarcastic sense of humor. It’s all him. An accountant. Who would’ve thought.
“What a year they’ve had,” I say to him as we walk inside, discussing my second favorite topic—football. As we open the door, the smell hits me. Instead of the drying incense from the clinic, it’s now an eye-watering amount of spice. The aromas are already sinking into my skin.
“Dahl is ready!” I hear Daisy’s mother call out as we walk down the hall, and I swallow, having no idea what I’m in for. But as I spot Daisy setting the table, seeing her move around the house, looking beautifully carefree, I realize that there’s nowhere else I want to be.
Even if I burn my insides with some very spicy darrrrlllll.