Chapter 10
The following morning, Felicity had a day off, which was a bloody good job too as she’d barely slept all night for thinking about Harry.
She lay in bed long after James had headed to his office, staring at the ceiling.
Their little black cat, Bobby Charlton, came and curled up beside her, instantly purring, the vibrations against her side bringing her some much-needed calm.
Her father hadn’t told her anything about himself.
She hadn’t given him the chance. She didn’t know where he lived or anything about him.
She had no way of contacting him even if she wanted to.
Felicity chewed a fingernail for a moment or two.
It would have to be by text, she knew that.
Her brother never ever answered a ringing phone.
She reached over to grab her phone from the side table, nearly knocking her enormous to-be-read pile onto the floor in the process.
Bobby leapt up and jumped off the bed, indignant.
Felicity: Hey you
Tristan: Hey yourself
Felicity: How’s things?
Tristan: How are things? I think you mean.
Felicity: Why are you such an arse?
Tristan: It’s part of my charm.
Felicity: Doubtful. Anyway, I have some news and I think we need to meet.
Tristan: Is it about Dad?
Felicity: Yes. How did you know that?
Tristan: He told me he was going to come and see you.
Felicity: And you didn’t think to mention it? Warn me maybe?
Tristan: I’ve been busy, darling. Premieres to go to. People to see.
Felicity: Arses to kiss.
Tristan: Very much so.
Felicity: So, here’s the thing.
Tristan: Go on.
Felicity: I kind of sent him packing.
Tristan: I know. He told me. Harsh, Fliss.
Felicity: And I didn’t even take his number.
Tristan: Awkward.
Felicity: Yes and so I was wondering…
Tristan: If I would give it to you?
Felicity: (gritting her teeth) Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.
Tristan: It’s no trouble. Let me just ask him.
Felicity: What? Why do you need to ask him? I’m sure he won’t mind.
Tristan: Still, I’d feel better if I just checked.
Felicity: Go on then.
Tristan: I can’t now, I’m going out.
Felicity (trying to stay calm) But you’re talking to me right now.
Tristan: I’ll do it tonight. Don’t panic.
Felicity: You won’t. You’ll forget.
Tristan: I promise.
Felicity: Why can’t you just tell me now?
Tristan: Protocol, darling. What if he doesn’t want you stalking him?
Felicity: Forget it. I’ll find it myself.
Damn her stupid brother. Damn ever even making the effort to reach out to him in the first place. What had it even brought her except more aggravation?
Felicity bit her lip harder. Picked up her phone again but a quick Google search brought up nothing.
She tried Facebook but there was no one that looked even vaguely like her father.
There was nothing on Twitter, nothing on Instagram.
Nothing on LinkedIn. How was that possible?
The man was like a ghost. And then the reality bit.
She had blown her one and only chance to talk to her dad after twenty-seven years.
To maybe get some answers after all this time.
What if she never saw him again? And why was Tristan such a horse’s arse?