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A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep)(150)

Author:Monica Murphy

“I had nothing to do with this,” Mom adds, earning a stern look from him.

“Tell me how you found it,” I demand.

“Like I said. I have connections. I did a little digging and made a few calls.” He’s starting to sweat. I see it dotting his hairline.

“Perhaps Veronica assisted you?” Mom asks, her voice dripping with disgust. “I know how helpful she is.”

“Leave her out of this,” he snaps, his cheeks turning red.

Veronica. The new assistant. Maybe there’s more there than I know?

“How much did you pay for it?” I ask him.

“Why are you both ganging up on me? And it’s rude to ask how much the piece was, Wren. It was a gift,” he says, chastising me. He’s out of the booth and on his feet in seconds. “Let’s go.”

“But—”

“We’re leaving,” he interrupts before he turns and exits the diner.

Mom and I share a look. “It’s going to be all right,” she tells me. “We can finish this conversation at home.”

My stomach sinks. I wish I didn’t need to have this conversation at all.

I’m silent the entire walk back to the apartment, as is my father. Even my mother. We’re all quiet, the mood somber.

Completely ruined.

How could he lie to me like that? How? I don’t understand. I don’t know if I ever will. He gets angry at me for my perceived betrayals, and then does the same exact thing and expects us to all accept his lies.

He can’t have it both ways.

We’re approaching our building when I notice someone standing near the entrance. A very familiar someone, clad in a black coat and jeans, that beanie he always wears covering his hair. He turns to face us and my heart soars.

It’s Crew.

Our eyes connect and the thunderous look on his face fills me with worry, though I realize quickly his anger has nothing to do with me.

And everything to do with my father.

“Oh dear,” I hear mother say when she spots Crew.

My father, of course, is completely oblivious.

I break away from my parents and run to Crew, a soft cry falling from my lips when he yanks me into his arms and cradles me close. I press my face to his chest, inhaling his familiar, delicious scent, hating what’s about to happen, but knowing it has to happen just the same.

“Birdy.” He runs his hand over my hair. “We need to talk.”

Slowly, I pull away so I can look into his eyes. “I know.”

“Crew,” my mother calls as they approach. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

I turn, staying in Crew’s embrace and my father is watching us, all the color draining from his face when he sees who I’m standing with.

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Beaumont.” Crew releases his hold on me to go to my mother, shaking her hand.

My father doesn’t say a word, but his grim expression is telling. He has to know he’s been caught.

“Sir.” Crew nods toward him, showing respect, though he probably doesn’t deserve it. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Oh, he’s being way too polite.

“You didn’t buy that piece for me,” I throw at my father, unable to contain myself. “I know you didn’t.”

His expression turns indignant. “Are you calling me a liar?”

I can’t believe he’s still sticking to his story, especially in front of Crew.

“Harvey, please. Give it up. You’ve been caught.” Her tone is weary. She looks tired, and it makes me realize she’s been putting up with him for a long time.

And she might be finally over it.

Crew turns to me, his expression earnest. “I’m the one who bought it for you, Wren. I figured it would all come together, with me sending you the Chanel lipsticks all week? Since that’s what the artist used in the piece.”

“I should’ve known.” I am in complete disbelief that he did this for me. All for me. Yet it also makes complete sense. The lipsticks. The camera. How he let me kiss him and cover his skin with my lip prints, never complaining. Deep down, I always sensed he liked it.

He would do anything for me.

Everything.

“Who the hell do you think you are, buying my daughter such an expensive piece of artwork? She doesn’t even know you, and here you come along, always sending her things. Showing off and trying to buy her with extravagant gifts. It’s pathetic.” My father’s face is beet red. I think this is the maddest I’ve ever seen him.