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

Chapter 15

Garrett

I enter the Riverside building, surveying the bustling main floor that will soon host Skylar's art show. My jaw still aches from George's punch last night, a constant reminder of the confrontation that changed everything.

Skylar's across the room, directing a group of workers as they adjust a towering sculpture. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles, but there's a shadow behind it, a remnant of last night's storm.

I approach her, feeling the soft leather of my jacket brush against my arm as I wrap it around her waist.

“Any word from Dad?”

I shake my head. “He hasn't come into the office. I've tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail.”

Skylar's face falls, and I can see the worry etched in her features. “Do you think he's okay?”

“He's probably just processing everything,” I reassure her, though I'm not entirely convinced. “George always needed time to cool off after big arguments.”

She nods, but I can see the worry lingering in her eyes. I press a soft kiss to her forehead, wishing I could take away all her fears.

“There are only three days left before the big show. Let's focus on today, okay? Nothing is going to overshadow that.”

Skylar takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “You're right.”

I look around the gallery, taking in the incredible transformation that's taken place. The space is almost unrecognizable from the empty shell it was a few weeks ago.

“You're staring,” Skylar says, a hint of amusement in her voice.

I chuckle. “Can you blame me?”

A blush creeps up her cheeks, and I'm struck by her beauty. “This is amazing, Skylar,” I say, my voice filled with genuine admiration. “You've brought this place to life.”

She smiles, her eyes sparkling with pride. “Thank you. It's coming together.”

I look at her, seeing the fiery passion in her eyes, and the unwavering determination in her stance. She's not just curating a show; she's creating an experience, a journey. And I'm in awe of her.

She smiles, leaning into me. “Thank you, Garrett. That means a lot coming from you.”

I pull her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. “I'm so proud of you, Skylar. You've poured your heart and soul into this, and it shows. You're going to blow everyone away tonight.”

She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I hope so. I want everything to go smoothly. There's so much riding on this.”

I'm caught off guard when the door swings open, revealing George with his arms full of takeout bags.

Skylar stiffens, her eyes widening in surprise. “Dad?”

George steps into the room, his gaze darting between us. He looks tired, his eyes bloodshot and his normally impeccable suit slightly rumpled. He sets the bags down on a nearby table.

“I thought you both might be hungry,” he says, his voice gruff.

I recognize the logo immediately–it's from Skylar's favorite local Thai place, the one she's been raving about since she got back. The significance isn't lost on me; it's George's way of extending an olive branch.

“Thanks, George,” I say finally, breaking the silence. “That was thoughtful of you.”

Skylar's face softens a bit, but I can still feel the tension in her body. “You didn't have to do that,” she says, but there's a hint of appreciation in her voice.

“I wanted to,” George replies, his eyes meeting mine before focusing back on Skylar. “I know how much you love their Pad Thai.”

The tension in the room is thick as we all stand there, surrounded by the aroma of spices filling the air.

George nods, setting the bags down on a nearby table. “I figured you'd both be too busy to grab lunch. And I, well, I wanted to talk.”

Skylar looks at me, uncertainty in her eyes. I give her a small nod, encouraging her. “Okay,” she says, her voice steady. “Let's talk.”

I watch George take a deep breath, his eyes moving between Skylar and me. “I owe you both an apology,” he starts, his voice rough with emotion. My behavior last night was inexcusable.”

Skylar takes a hesitant step forward. “Dad, I?—”

George holds up a hand, stopping her. “Please, let me finish. I've been up all night, thinking about everything. I was wrong to keep you in the dark, Skylar. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was put you in more danger. And Garrett...”

He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. “I questioned your loyalty instead of recognizing how much you care for Skylar. I had no right to attack you. You've stepped up when I couldn't, and for that, I am truly grateful. I'm sorry to you both.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. I've known George for years, but I've rarely seen him this vulnerable.

“I can't say I'm entirely comfortable with the idea of you two together,” George continues, his gaze moving between Skylar and me. “But I can see how much you care for each other. And after everything that's happened, I realize I don't have the right to stand in your way.”

Skylar's eyes fill with tears. “Dad, do you mean that?”

George nods, a sad smile on his face. “I do. It might take some time for me to adjust, but I want you to be happy, sweetheart. Both of you.”

“Dad,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I don't know what to say.”

George steps forward, hesitantly opening his arms. “You don't have to say anything, sweetheart. I'm just hoping you can forgive me.”

Skylar steps into his embrace, her shoulders shaking with emotion. “I forgive you, Dad,” Skylar says, her voice muffled against George's chest. “Thank you for coming here, for saying all of this.”

I stand back, watching the scene unfold. This day, already significant for Skylar's career, has become a turning point for all of us.

George looks over Skylar's shoulder at me, his eyes questioning. I give him a slight nod, acknowledging his apology. It's a start, but trust takes time to rebuild.

“Thank you, George,” I say, my voice low. “I appreciate your words.”

George extends an arm to me, inviting me into the embrace. I hesitate for a second, then step forward, joining them. The three of us stand there, the weight of the apology and the shared history binding us together.

George pulls back slightly, looking at both of us with a resolved expression. “I want us to move forward as a family.”

Skylar nods, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I want that too, Dad. More than anything.”

George smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Now, let's enjoy this amazing Thai food and celebrate everything Skylar has achieved.”

I look around the gallery, trying to figure out where we can set up our impromptu meal. “How about over by that abstract sculpture?” I suggest, pointing to a quiet corner.

George nods, picking up the bags. “Sounds good to me.”

We carefully navigate around half-installed artworks and stacks of packing materials. I grab a few folding chairs while Skylar clears a space on a low pedestal.

“This'll have to be our table,” she says, laying out napkins.

I set up the chairs as George unpacks the food. The smell of spices and herbs fills the air, mingling with fresh paint and wood.

“This is quite the setup,” George comments, looking around at the artwork surrounding us. “Eating Thai food in the middle of a contemporary art gallery. Not how I imagined spending my lunch break.”

Skylar laughs, the sound lighter than I've heard in days. “Welcome to my world, Dad.”

As we finish our meal, the mood shifts. The gallery is a whirlwind of activity, but in the eye of the storm, Skylar has a newfound determination in her eyes.

She looks at George and me, her voice steady and clear. “I have a plan to deal with the Scarpettas.”

I clear my throat, meeting George's eyes.

George nods, his expression grave. “I've been thinking about it non-stop. They're not going to back down easily.”

Skylar, undeterred, continues, “We use the press. The exhibition is the perfect opportunity. We have reporters and influential guests—we use that attention to our advantage.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean, babygirl?”

She takes a deep breath. “My friend Autumn is an investigative reporter. She's been looking for a big story to break. What if we give her one?”

George rubs his chin, thoughtful. “You're suggesting we publicly out them? That's a dangerous game, Skylar.”

Skylar nods. “Autumn could dig into their underhanded dealings, expose them through the media. It would be the ultimate threat–unwanted exposure.”

I lean against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, considering her words. “It's risky, Skylar. We don't know how they'll react.”

She turns to me, her eyes blazing with conviction. “They won't expect it. They think they have us cornered. But if we expose them, if we make their operations public, they'll have bigger problems than us.”

I can see the strategy forming in her mind, the pieces clicking into place. She's thought this through and considered the angles. It's a bold move, one that carries significant risk, but also the potential for a major payoff.

“How would this work, exactly?” I ask.

“Autumn's been itching for a breakthrough story. She would compile a dossier on their activities,” Skylar explains. “We'd make it clear to the Scarpettas that if they don't back off, we go public. It's mutually assured destruction.”

George shakes his head. “It's still dangerous, sweetheart. These people don't play by the rules.”

“Neither do we,” Skylar counters, her voice firm. “Dad, Garrett, you both want to protect me, but I'm not naive. I've been paying attention. It's dangerous, but it's our best shot. This way, we fight them with information, not violence.”

Skylar's plan is clever, leveraging exposure as a weapon against the Scarpettas. Moments like these remind me why I fell for her: her brilliance and determination.

“Alright,” I finally say. “We move forward with this, carefully.”

George clears his throat, his voice gruff with emotion. “That's right. We'll face this as a team.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” she says, gripping our hands, her determination clear.

Skylar beams, grateful for the support. George nods approvingly, but I can see the worry lines etched on his face.

“Let's put together everything we know about the Scarpettas,” I say. “I’ll reach out to some of my contacts. See if we can gather additional information to support what Autumn digs up.”

While I'm on board with Skylar's idea, we're dealing with a dangerous organization. We need backup plans and contingencies.

I pull out my phone, sending a coded message to Asher. We need to meet and compare notes. Asher's been gathering intel on the Scarpettas, working in the shadows where he excels.

With only three days until the show opening, we have our work cut out for us. But as I look between Skylar and George, a weight lifts from my shoulders.

For the first time since this mess began, we're no longer working at cross purposes but united against a common threat.

We're no longer reacting to the Scarpettas' moves. We are taking the fight to them.