2. Dan
Chapter 2
Dan
Two days later, Saturday, May 15
The daughter
“Remember, best behavior,” my father mutters like I’m five years old as we wait for his girlfriend to answer her front door.
She lives at The Hawk Grand Hotel on the Upper East Side, a few streets away from us. When I asked why she lives in a hotel, I got some cryptic response about the girlfriend having a rough past, and that she’s cousins with Daxton Hawk, the guy who owns this hotel, and he housed her here to help out.
Along with my best behavior, my father insisted I wear a suit to set a good impression. He’s nervous about today’s lunch with the girlfriend and her daughter, afraid I’ll mention something embarrassing about his fabulous parenting skills. I’ll let him sweat, but I’m not an idiot. I want that car.
The door opens, and a woman in her early thirties, at least ten years younger than my father, smiles at me. This is Amabella, I suppose. She’s beautiful, with an elegance his usual women don’t possess. Amabella has long, blond hair and is wearing a floral dress fit for this time of year as we grow closer to summer.
She doesn’t spare a glance at my father before pulling me into a hug. “Dan, I am so thrilled to meet you. Your father has told me so many wonderful things about you.” All lies from him, I’m sure. The little he does know about me, he doesn’t like.
The woman’s warm and excitable nature is unexpected, and before I can reciprocate any kind of response, she laughs and pulls back, holding me by the shoulders. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself first. You’re probably freaking out. I’m Amabella.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you.”
Only now does Amabella turn to my father. She pecks him on the lips, and they exchange a few cutesy words. I look away, disturbed by the sight of my father smiling against her mouth.
“Please, come inside,” Amabella says to us. “Our lunch reservations at the restaurant downstairs aren’t for another forty minutes.”
We follow her through the front door to a small but sophisticated apartment. The living room and kitchen are combined in an open floor plan, with a balcony to the side.
Amabella stands with Dad near the couch and calls out, “Ally, honey, Josh and Dan are here.”
Right. The daughter I have to play nice with.
A door opens somewhere behind me, followed by a quiet voice. “Hi.”
I turn to the timid sound. The moment I see our company, a jolt of heat shoots from my chest all the way down to my dick.
This is the daughter?
I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this.
I’m staring at something from another world. The most delicate and beautiful creature who looks like she’s just stepped out of a fairy garden. She has the palest skin and ice-blond hair draped by her waist in soft curls. A pink satin ribbon sits in her hair and she’s wearing a white lacy dress with a lilac knit cardigan.
The girl looks at me with the most mesmerizing blue eyes that make me forget how to talk. I didn’t realize I have a type, but I do and it’s this girl. I only hold her attention for a second at most before her gaze flicks away and drops to the ground. The slight smile she greeted me with vanishes and her hands clench by her sides.
“Dan.” There’s a warning in my father’s voice which brings me back to reality, alerting me that I’ve been staring in silence for far too long.
Somehow, I find it within me to speak in a casual manner. “Hey, Ally, nice to meet you.”
“You too. Hi, Josh.” Her voice is so quiet I barely hear it. She hugs my father, and I watch the interaction between the two, shocked at how comfortable they are with each other, like she’s his own daughter. I suppose he spends a lot of time here with Amabella and Ally, considering he’s never home.
“Would anyone like a drink?” Amabella asks.
“I’ll serve it,” Ally says in that quiet voice again, stuttering over her words. Her face turns a shade of pink, I have no clue why, and she pivots on her heels, heading to the kitchen.
“I’ll help you.” The words leave my mouth before I know what I’m saying.
I gave Dad my word I would be welcoming, but this has nothing to do with that promise. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m never like this with girls. I’m not sure if I want to fuck her or follow her around like a puppy dog, earning her love and affection. Both options. Maybe more so the latter.
My brothers would have the biggest laugh of their life if they saw me like this over a girl. They wouldn’t recognize me. I don’t recognize myself.
“It’s o-okay,” Ally stutters again. “You don’t need to help?—”
“Where are the glasses kept?”
Amabella smiles, looking between me and Ally with approval, then at my dad with a silent squee of excitement, like she’s pleased I’ve taken an interest in her daughter.
“Thanks, Dan,” Amabella says, leading my father outside by the hand. “Josh and I will be waiting on the balcony.”
Without another word, Ally busies herself in the kitchen, grabbing a jug of what looks like homemade lemonade from the fridge. Next, she opens an overhead cabinet where the glasses are stored. The majority of glasses must be in the dishwasher, because the cabinet is mostly empty other than a few glasses tucked at the back. Ally reaches up on her toes, her dress riding up her thighs as she struggles to reach.
I enjoy the sight for a few seconds, visualizing what she’d look like naked and in my bed. Not wanting to be caught staring, I step up beside her, reaching the glasses with ease. She’s so tiny, it’s adorable. This close, she smells like strawberries and candy and everything sweet.
Her cheeks form a rosy hue as she looks at my chest and the shortened distance I’ve placed between us. I make her nervous. I wonder how much this girl knows about me, being a Blackwood. If she’s seen the usual shit about me and my brothers online—the partying, girls, and alcohol—she’s probably already made her assumptions.
I hand her the glasses. She offers me a tight smile in return before silently pouring the lemonade. Whatever her assumptions are, I need to change her opinion of me.
I lean against the kitchen counter. “Nice shoes.” I’m only now realizing she’s wearing Converse, matching the lilac of her cardigan, the only thing that lets me know she’s from this world.
She looks down at her feet before muttering, “Is that a joke?”
“No.” I pause, muddled over her question and why she thinks I’m joking. “I like them and the contrast with your outfit.”
Ally presses her lips together, deep in thought, almost looking offended by my comment. She resumes pouring the drinks in silence.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“The girls at school tease me for how I dress. I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”
I fold my arms, laughing beneath my breath. “The girls at school are jealous. Trust me.”
Dad said Ally attends an all-girls school and that she doesn’t have many friends. I’m sure I’m not supposed to know this, but he also mentioned her being bullied. I can say with certainty the bullying would stem from every one of those girls being intimidated by Ally’s looks.
“I doubt they’re jealous,” she mumbles.
From the moment I entered this apartment, every word that’s left Ally’s mouth has been filled with shyness. I get it now; her guard is up due to bad experiences.
“My dad tells me you play the piano.”
She stops pouring the lemonade to look at me. Her lips twitch with the hint of a smile, and that same heat from the first moment I saw her radiates through me.
“Yes, I play. It’s the only thing I ever do.”
“Can you play something for me right now?”
“Um… really?”
“Yeah, our parents can wait for their drinks. Show me. I hear you’re amazing.”
“The piano is in my bedroom.” The blush returns to her cheeks, and it makes me wonder if she’s ever had a guy in her room. Doubtful. She gives off an innocent vibe. I bet she’s never had a guy’s hands on her body or been kissed.
Oddly, the thought of her innocence is a turn on. I don’t fuck around with inexperienced girls. There’s no time since I’m only with them for a night. They expect romance and dates and to take things slow. I’m not that kind of guy.
Where Ally is concerned, I have time. I have all the time in the world. I’m being ruled by my dick, but the thought of this girl being untouched is far too tempting. I don’t know why. Maybe it has something to do with her being the daughter of my father’s girlfriend. I told him I would behave around Ally, but behaving is the last thing I want to do.
“Do you like Mozart?” she asks.
“Couldn’t name a single song by him.”
“You’d know many by him if you heard them.”
Each time she speaks, it’s filled with more confidence now that we’re discussing a passion of hers. My father said Ally isn’t shy at all once you get her talking about music. It’s cute, seeing her like this compared to the timid girl from a couple of minutes ago. She doesn’t have many friends to share this passion with? She can share it with me all she wants.
“My husband’s music is very well renowned,” she continues.
I’m confused for a moment until Ally chuckles, and fuck, the sound of her soft laughter makes my dick twitch. She’s making a joke, I guess. Her sense of humor is a little unusual, but I like it.
“You got any other husbands? Beethoven? Bach?” I try to list off a few other classical composers, but my knowledge of that era isn’t great.
“I have so many husbands. Come on, I’ll show you.”
I follow Ally to her bedroom, and just like the girl herself, her room is like stepping into another time and world. Everything is covered in ruffles and lace and the prettiest of ribbons. It’s all pastels and light colors. A white piano sits upright against the wall, and along the top are small sculptures of composers.
Her eyes widen the tiniest bit when I sit on her bed. Ally stares at me and licks her lips, her gaze heating me to the core. She’s such a sweet looking girl, but I can see in her eyes that she’s thinking about sex. How the hell does she have this effect over me, to make me insanely turned on over something as simple as sitting on a girl’s bed?
My oldest brother Felix once told me it’s the innocent looking girls you have to watch out for, that they’re the most freaky between the bedsheets.
Ally glances away and opens the piano lid. I’m about to ask if she’d prefer I sit somewhere else, but she dives into her song, playing the piano with such fluency it feels like I’m attending a concert.
My God, she’s beautiful when she plays. Her face is serene, like she’s one with the music. Sometimes, she plays with her eyes closed, she’s that talented. I wish I was inside her head this very moment, experiencing the passion she clearly feels when playing the piano.
“ That is Mozart,” she says at the end of her short performance. The tune is familiar, one I’ve heard many times in ads and movies.
“I know the song. My dad wasn’t kidding when he said you’re an amazing pianist. Can you teach me to play something?”
I don’t know why I ask the question. I don’t have any interest in playing the piano. But there’s a light in her eyes that only appeared once we started speaking about music. I don’t know much about her, but I like seeing that light. I want this girl to smile at me, talk to me non-stop, and let me into her inner circle. Then I want to take her back to my bed and I don’t want her to leave. I want to test this theory Felix claims about innocent looking girls.
Ally rubs the back of her neck, seeming confused by my question. “You mean teach you something right now or give you lessons?”
Fuck, the latter is an even better suggestion. “Give me lessons.”
“Okay, I guess. How often should we?—”
“A few times a week.”
She stands up, closes the piano lid, and smiles. “That sounds fun. I’d like that.”
Not as much as me, Ally, trust me.