Stealing Daddy’s Heart (Daddy’s Good Girl)

Chapter 3

Skylar

Autumn slides into the seat across from me at the cafe, her reporter's notebook peeking out of her bag.

“The usual?” I ask, signaling a barista. “One lavender latte and an americano, please.”

Autumn leans forward, elbows on the table. “Spill it, Sky. Who's the lucky guy?”

I freeze, my hand halfway to my water glass. “What are you talking about?”

She cocks an eyebrow. “I've known you since freshman year. You've got that dreamy, distracted look.”

My fingers find a strand of hair, twirling the teal-streaked lock. “I'm excited about the exhibition. You should see the line up.”

Autumn’s eyebrows are raised so high they're practically touching her hairline. “Nice try, but I'm not buying it. Your work always gets you fired up, but this is different. Come on, Sky. Who is he?”

Damn. She's relentless, probing like it's an interview for her next big story. “Fine,” I concede. “There's someone I'm interested in.”

Autumn's eyes light up with triumph. “Now we're getting somewhere. Details, please!”

I hesitate, my heart racing. How much can I safely reveal?

“He's older. Confident, but not arrogant. When we talk about art, he actually gets it, you know?”

“Where did you meet this mystery man?”

My stomach knots. The full truth–that I've known him for years–feels too dangerous to voice. Instead, a partial truth seems safer.

“At the grad party last night,” I say, heat rising to my cheeks. “He was there as a guest.”

Autumn's face falls. “Damn, I can't believe I missed that! I could've met him if I hadn't been stuck covering that city council meeting. My editor owes me big time for that snooze fest.” She leans forward, her reporter's instincts kicking in. “Now I'm even more intrigued. Give me all the details.”

Our drinks arrive, providing a welcome distraction. As I stir my latte, unbidden memories surface–Garrett's intense gaze, his fingers grazing my arm, his deep voice sending shivers through me.

I recall how he sipped his whiskey, a stray drop lingering on his lip before his tongue caught it. My cheeks flush at the vivid replay, desire coiling inside me.

I squirm under her relentless gaze, my heart pounding. “He's thirty-nine.”

Autumn leans back, letting out a low whistle.

“I know how it sounds,” I say, my head snapping up. “Age is just a number. It doesn't define who we are or how we feel.”

She holds up her hands. “I'm not judging. Does this dreamboat have a name?”

“Garrett Hayes,” I say. Speaking his name sends a little thrill through me.

“Wait, as in Apex Solutions?”

I nod slowly, watching as Autumn's expression shifts to concern. I cross my arms, my bracelets jangling. “I'm not some naive little girl. Whatever this thing is between us, it's complicated.”

“You're in deep. I get it, babe. As your best friend, it's my job to make sure you're going into this with your eyes wide open.”

How do I explain the connection between us? It's like gravity. The way Garrett looked at me awakened something deep inside–a yearning that borders on desperation. He could unravel me with a single glance, and part of me wants to let him.

“I appreciate your concern. It's coming from the right place,” I say, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “But this isn't just some random older guy. He's... he's...”

“Your dad's age, Sky. Not to mention his best friend,” Autumn finishes for me, her voice gentle but firm. “He's practically family. This could get messy fast.”

I cut her off, frustration edging into my voice. “Dad doesn't get a say in who I date. I'm an adult, for fuck's sake.”

As the words leave my mouth, I realize just how much I've already invested in the idea of Garrett. It's not about the attraction or the thrill of forbidden romance.

It's about feeling understood, valued for who I truly am. But at this stage, it’s a one-way thing. A fantasy.

It doesn’t matter, because Autumn is already shifting gears, her sharp reporter instincts kicking in as her gaze drifts over the papers I’ve scattered on the table.

“Speaking of messy—let’s talk about your show next month. I was checking out the artist lineup you sent me, and damn, Sky, you’re killing it.”

I blink, momentarily thrown off, but then a smile breaks through. She’s always like this—flitting between my personal highs and professional wins like they’re one seamless ride. “Yeah? I’ve put everything into making it perfect.”

“Perfect is an understatement. Leo Castello? Maisie Zhao? You’re kidding me, right? Castello’s abstract pieces are total fire on the collector’s circuit right now. I’d pitch this show to my editor in a heartbeat if he had any common sense,” she says, flipping through imaginary paperwork, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Artists like these? Your show’s going to be huge.”

I grin, a little warmth rising in my chest at the praise. “I hope you’re right.”

“Come on, Sky.” Autumn leans forward, mock-conspiratorial. “Let me pitch it again. I know your editor didn’t bite the first time, but with some persistence and these names? It’s a done deal. Plus, if this goes through, you know I’ll owe you a solid.”

I chuckle at that. “Always thinking like a reporter, aren’t you?”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” she says with a wink. “It’s simple: we help each other out. I get a story, you get press, and your artists get exposure. Gets me off the gossip-hound beat too.”

I laugh, appreciating her support. “Fair enough. Thanks for looking out for me. We’ll see what happens.”

“You got it. And hey…” She grins, raising her mug, “As far as scratching backs goes, keep me in mind when something juicy happens in your world.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “Deal. I’ll call you first if things get interesting.”

“Good. Just make sure I’m there for front-row opening night. These critics won’t know what hit them.”

“The best seat in the gallery is all yours,” I say, feeling buoyed by her enthusiasm.

Then, as quickly as she switched from Garrett to my art show, she snaps back. Her expression turns more serious as she leans in again.

“So, back to this whole thing with your dad’s best friend.”

Autumn reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Hey, I'm not trying to rain on your parade. I just want you to be careful. This isn't just about you and Garrett. There are other people involved, people who could get hurt.”

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I know. God, Autumn, don't you think I've thought about that? I've barely slept since the gala, trying to figure out what to do.”

“And what have you decided?” Autumn asks softly.

Before I can answer, a burst of laughter erupts from a nearby table where two women are gossiping loudly, their voices carrying throughout the cafe.

The woman speaking looks to be in her thirties, her voice dripping with disdain. “Did you hear about Sarah's daughter? She's dating that CEO. He's got to be at least twice her age! It's so scandalous. I mean, what could they possibly have in common?”

The woman's words hit like a slap. My stomach knots, my cheeks burning. It's as if they're talking about me—and the fact that they’re obviously not doesn't matter.

It stings all the same. I sink lower in my seat, desperate to disappear in the swirl of coffee and conversations.

“No!” her friend gasps, leaning in closer. “How could her parents allow that?”

“Allow? Please. She's twenty-three, and thinks she knows everything.”

The woman's friend chimes in, her voice a mix of disgust and fascination. “These old men think they can buy youth. It's pathetic. And the girls? Clearly, they have daddy issues. It'll end in tears.”

I flinch, my hand shaking as I set down my mug. Autumn's gaze flicks between me and the gossiping women.

She leans in, lowering her voice. “Hey, don't let those judgmental hags get to you. They don't know what they're talking about.”

I swallow hard. “What if they're right? Do you think people would react like that about me and Garrett? Am I a cliché?”

Autumn throws a pointed look at the women who don't pay her any attention. “Screw what anyone else thinks. You're the most original, stubborn, passionate person I know. There's nothing cliché about you.”

I bite my lip, conflicted. “But what if?—”

“No what-ifs.” Autumn cuts me off gently. “If anyone can make this work, it's you.”

Her unwavering support washes over me, and something shifts inside. My shoulders straighten, and I meet her gaze with renewed determination.

“You know what?” I say, my voice gaining strength. “I don't know what this is. But it isn't some silly crush. And no one else gets to decide what's right for us.”

“It's not just a silly crush,” I repeat, but a knot tightens in my stomach.

What if I'm wrong? What if I don't really know what I'm walking into?

The more I try to convince myself of the connection between Garrett and me, the deeper my doubts seem to sink their claws into my skin.

Autumn nods approvingly. “Okay, so what's your next move?”

I lean forward, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “I'm going to invite him to the exhibition.”

She grins, giving me a thumbs up. “Bold. I like it. And hey, if it doesn't work out, at least you'll have some steamy stories to tell. Silver-fox fantasies are a thing for a reason, you know.”

I laugh, the sound buoying my courage. The world seems brighter somehow, full of possibility.

If there's even a chance that Garrett and I could have something real, something meaningful, then I owe it to myself to find out.

“You're right,” I say, a plan forming in my mind. “I can't just sit here and wonder. I need to see him, to talk to him face to face.”

Autumn raises an eyebrow. “Now? Where?”

“At his office,” I say, my heart racing at the thought. “Dad's office, I mean. Garrett works there too.”

“Whoa, slow down there, Romeo,” Autumn says, holding up her hands. “Are you sure that's a good idea? What if your dad sees you?”

I shrug, trying to appear more confident than I feel. “I'll say I'm there to surprise Dad. It's not like I haven't done that before.”

Autumn studies me for a moment, then sighs. “Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. And text me the second you're done, okay?”

I nod, already gathering my things. “I promise. Thanks, Autumn. For everything.”

As I leave the cafe, my heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I hail a cab, giving the driver the address for Apex Solutions.