Page 28 of My Forbidden Billionaire
“No. Thank you.”
My short and decisive answer seems to do the trick, at least for now. The waitress retreats and I quickly go back to the conversation I was having with Clem just a minute ago.
“What do you mean—juicy? Has Josephine actually said anything … relevant?”
“You bet she did! But … since you haven’t kept your end of the deal, sorry,” she replies and pops a whole shrimp in her mouth.
“Clem … come on.”
“No.”
“Please…”
“No.”
“Clementine…”
“No.”
It’s obvious to me that she’s enjoying this game. A lot. “Fine … I’m sorry about BTS, by the way. I know how much you want to meet them, and I will make it happen. Not because we have a deal but because I love you. That’s all. Now, let’s eat our dinner and go home,” I say.
There’s silence between us now and she seems to be pondering what I just said, not having expected it.
“Daddy, are you lonely?” she asks all of the sudden, taking me by surprise.
“What?” I reply, my fork frozen in mid-air.
“I said … are you lonely?”
I think about her question for a second and decide to answer as truthfully as I can. “Yes … Clem. To be totally honest with you, I am a little lonely. I miss your mommy very much. And there are moments … moments where I wish I had someone to share my life with—romantically, I mean. I share my life with you, Clem, but it would be nice to have a companion.”
Clem doesn’t reply. Not for a long time, in fact, which starts to worry me a little. Should I continue talking? Explain more things to her? Or have I said too much?
“Miss Andrews’ favorite flowers are orchids. She said that she read about yellow orchids in a book, but didn’t say which one.”
“Thank you so much for telling me that.” I smile. “I really appreciate it.”
“And her favorite candy is Turkey … delicious? Is that a thing?”
I laugh and immediately picture a mountain of sugary sweets in my head, brightly colored and mouthwatering. “Do you mean Turkish Delight, by any chance?”
“Yes! That’s it! How did you know, Daddy?”
“Those are the sweets from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” I explain and watch her little face grow more confused.
“The … what?”
Laughing, I begin to explain to her. “It’s a series of books that I have no doubt Josephine loves. And, you know what, I think it’s time for you to know them as well. You’re old enough to enjoy them. So, what do you say? Shall we order a giant batch of Turkish Delight and start reading The Chronicles of Narnia before bed?”
She squeals excitedly and claps her hands together, attracting some odd looks from the other people in the restaurant, but I don’t care.
My daughter is happy, and that’s all that matters to me.
Chapter Eleven
Josephine
A knock on the door catches my attention. I abandon the plates I’ve been washing and rush to open it. My friends are finally here for our weekly girls’ night. And it feels like a celebration, because after weeks of unpacking, scrubbing, and polishing, my apartment is finally ready.