Chapter Forty-Two
“Nervous?” I ask, smoothing my hands down the front of my shirt.
Wyatt shakes his head. “No. Why? Are you?”
“No,” I say, scrunching my nose. Except my voice is an octave higher and sounds more like a question than a statement. Tugging at the bottom of my skirt, Wyatt lifts my hand, kissing my knuckles.
“Baby, he’s your dad. There’s nothing for you to be nervous about.”
“That’s easy for you… Shit, he’s here.” The coffee I drank before coming here jumps in my stomach, as I watch Dad follow a waiter, stopping to point at something across the restaurant. Pressing back in my seat, I straighten the cutlery set out before me, muttering, “Oh, thank god, he brought Nancy.”
Wyatt smirks, setting a steady hand on mine, stopping me from adjusting the glasses before standing and pulling out a chair as my stepmom approaches.
“Good morning, Captain Grant. How nice to see you again.”
“Just Wyatt, Mrs. Cartwright,” he says, placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Oh shoot,” she says, grimacing as he helps her into her seat. Lifting her napkin, she flicks it out, placing it onto her lap. “Old habits.”
“It’s okay.” He holds out his hand for my father. “Mr. Cartwright.”
“Wyatt,” Dad replies, his expression stoney, his shoulders squared, looking every part the businessman as he shakes my boyfriend’s hand.
My tongue feels too thick for my mouth as I watch them stare, gazes hard, hands coiled tightly around one another’s, and all we’re missing is the bared teeth like two alpha wolves trying to fight for submission.
I glance at Nancy, not sure what to do. This is new territory for me—the whole meeting the parents. I’ve never introduced a boyfriend to my father, partly because they weren’t anything to write home about, but also, he literally fired Wyatt a week ago.
“Dad,” I caution as Nancy rolls her eyes, swatting his thigh.
“Stop posturing, Charlie,” she scolds, lifting her menu and studying it. “We all know you’re not the stoic grumpy man you’re trying to make Wyatt believe you are.”
He looks at her from the corner of his eye as he drops Wyatt’s hand, pulling out his own seat and tucking himself under the table. “I am, too!”
“You are not.” She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “Your father cried watching Marly and Me last night.”
I bark a laugh, the tension I’ve carried since I woke up this morning somewhat ebbing.
“Nancy!” Dad huffs, turning to mockingly glare at his wife.
“What?” she shrugs innocently. “This was meant to be a nice, open and honest conversation.”
“And telling them that I cried over a movie has nothing to do with my daughter's relationship with my former employee,” he deadpans.
And just when I thought the tension was gone.
I reach over and grab my water glass, gulping as much as I can in one breath. It turns out, though, that when you have three sets of eyes on you, it’s incredibly difficult.
You have millions of eyes on you when you skate, Pippa. This should be easy.
“I’m in love with Wyatt,” I blurt, and he makes a strangled choking sound from beside me, coughing as his own water splutters out of his mouth. “Shit, I maybe should have waited until you weren’t drinking.”
He dabs his napkin across his lips. “Little bit of warning would have been nice.”
Dad raises his eyebrows as Nancy hides a smile behind her menu. “And what about you, Wyatt? Do you love my daughter?”
“I d—”
“Yes, he does,” I jump in, cutting him off, the room weirdly getting hotter with each word. “And I’m going to be with him, regardless of whether you approve.”
“Pippa,” Wyatt murmurs, low enough that only I can hear, but the warning is loud and clear.
“No, Wyatt,” I snap, fixing my eyes on him. “I’m serious. I’m serious about you, and if my dad can’t handle that, then…tough.”
“Such a brat,” he mutters, picking up a bread roll and tearing off a small piece.
I look at my dad, my pulse hammering in the side of my neck. Fear coats my skin as he watches me, his eyes sharp, his mind whirling and suddenly, I feel like that little girl who needed her daddy’s permission to go to skating camp.
And just as much as I wanted that with all my being, and even though I said I didn’t care, I really do want his approval of Wyatt. More than anything in the world. Because my dad not being supportive of my relationship would kill me.
“Look,” I continue, laying my cards all out on the table. “If you need time to process this, then I can give you that, but—”
“Okay, Pippa, lower your defenses,” Dad says, a crease in his forehead. “I’ve never said I wasn’t on board with this thing between you two. But as your father, I’m allowed to have some…concerns.”
I reach over and place my hand over his, hoping the gesture conveys words I can’t, that I’m still his little girl, but I can make my own decisions.
“I know our relationship may be unconventional, especially considering who I am.” I lift my hand and place it on my chest before pointing to him. “And who you are, there will be scrutiny over it from newspapers and magazines digging into the fact Wyatt used to work for you and that he’s older, but…”
Dad looks at Wyatt. “And are you prepared for that? Gossip rags and spiteful journalists can be ruthless in what they write.”
“I am,” he says, taking free my hand in his and setting it on the table for my parents to see. “I’m in love with your daughter, sir. I’d walk across fire for her.”
Nancy squeaks, covering her mouth. “Sorry. Carry on.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Dad says, steepling his fingers like he’s in a meeting as he regards Wyatt. “What I do worry about is how all of this will affect her. Career-wise. Pippa has worked hard to get where she is, and I know the negative things said about her online—about my potential influence to get her to where she is—has been an issue for her.”
“I understand that,” Wyatt starts to say, but I leap instantly to his defense.
“Dad, Wyatt was actually the one who made me realize that their words are just…” Looking at my man, I say the rest to him. “They’re just that. Words. I am a damn good skater, and I deserve to be where I am.”
He brings my hand to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss to the back of it.
“Sir, any negative shit they want to say about me, about Pippa”—he pauses, resting his arm on the back of my chair, his fingers landing on my neck, gently squeezing—“we’ll deal with it together.”
“Oh my god,” Nancy coos, dabbing under her eyes. “Remember when you used to be that sweet, Charlie?”
“Used to be?” my dad splutters, but I don’t hear what else he says. My cheeks ache as I try to curb the massive smile that wants to take over my face as I stare at Wyatt. I want to kiss him, tell him I love him over and over, but I’m still not sure about my dad’s stance.
“And that right there is how I knew something was going on between you two.” Dad points between me and Wyatt, making me blush. Taking a deep breath, he waves his hand dismissively through the air. “But negative press aside, it’s your concentration and devotion to your sport that I worry about. Pippa, you’re young. You’re going places.” I open my mouth, but he barrels on, cutting me off. “And before you say anything, the differences in your age is not an issue for me. As you so astutely pointed out days ago, I’d be a hypocrite to use that against you. But it’s not a secret that infatuation can distract the mind.”
“And I agree, sir,” Wyatt states, and my head whips in his direction. “But one of the things that I fell in love with first is your daughter's dedication to skating. Not just professionally, but with those little girls in Lake Placid, too. I would never stand in Pippa’s way to achieve her goals. I want to be by her side the whole time, through everything—the good—celebrating her successes. And the bad—picking her up when she needs it. I want them all.”
“And what about that little blip on day one of the competition?” Dad asks.
“Honey,” Nancy chastises, pursing her lips.
“It’s true,” he laments. “Even Pippa can admit she was distracted during the short program.”
“I was,” I admit, ducking my head for a beat before adding. “But that was because of you.”
“Me?”
“You had just fired my boyfriend and were unwilling to hire him back. Of course, I was distracted. I felt so guilty and worried that Wyatt would resent me, that it was all I could think about,” I tell him, his eyes widening with each word.
He itches his chin, his bottom lip sticking out as he hums in thought. “Well, shit. I didn’t think about that.”
Wyatt chuckles and ghosts his thumb over the back of my hand. “To be fair, if you didn’t think you needed to defend my honor, you’d have known I was going to be fine.”
“You’ve got another job?” Dad asks, his eyebrows flying up his forehead. “Already?”
Wyatt shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, sir, I was actually going to give you my resignation next week.”
Dad looks surprised. “You were?”
He nods. “My brother’s partner has decided to take me on as a part-time contractor as well as putting me in touch with an up-and-coming rock star.” He pointedly turns to me. “So I’m fine.”
“A rock star? How exciting,” Nancy gushes.
“Well, that’s great then,” Dad says, signaling the waiter and ordering a bottle of champagne. “Surely that will keep you busy, will it not? What, with tours and such? What kind of plane does he own?” he asks, leaning forward to monopolize my boyfriend’s time, while I sit back, warmth radiating through my bones as I watch them.
The rest of breakfast passes in a blur, and I feel like an interloper, observing four people converse on the outside. Nancy asks about my plans for my downtime now that the final competition of the season is done while Dad and Wyatt discuss all things aviation with the same enthusiasm as they did that day when he announced he was in the market for an upgrade.
It’s surreal. Watching my family and my boyfriend—a boyfriend I thought would never be more than a secret—together. And while he might not have explicitly said it, the smiles Dad gives Wyatt, the pats on the back, and the jokes they make, I know he accepts my choice.
This right here is my future. And being with Wyatt is like winning gold.