“It was good, love.” She smiles warmly as her knowing eyes hold mine. “He’s not as scary as he looks, darling.”
“Good to know.”
I loiter a little longer. “Any advice?” I ask.
“To deal with Harvey?”
I nod.
“Be yourself.”
I frown.
“More than anything, Harvey respects honesty.”
“Me too.”
“You do.” She rubs my arm. “I know.”
“You know?”
“Darling, I speak to Hayden every day. I feel like you and I are already close friends.”
I smile, feeling a little better. “Well . . . your daughter is a credit to you, Mrs. Whitmore. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
Tears fill her eyes as she gets emotional. “I know.”
“What are you guys doing in here?” Hayden comes around the corner.
“Just talking.” Valerie smiles.
“This is the best night.” Hayden slides her arms around my waist to hug me. “My favorite people all in the one house.”
I kiss her temple.
“Come see Dad.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room to see Harvey sitting in his recliner chair in the corner of the living room.
“Hello, Mr. Whitmore.” I smile.
His eyes hold mine, and he gestures to the couch. “Take a seat.”
“Thanks.” I sit on the couch.
“You two chat between yourselves. I’m going to help Mom,” Hayden says.
Don’t leave me here with him.
“Okay,” I reply.
Harvey keeps watching television with the remote in his hand.
I twist my lips. I look between him and the television. I should make conversation or something.
“It’s good to be back on American soil,” I say.
He nods and keeps watching television as if uninterested. I wait for him to say something . . . he doesn’t.
Rude prick.
“A farm this big must be a lot of work,” I say.
“We have Hayden home to help us now,” he says as his eyes stay fixed on the television.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Walked straight into that one.
I stay silent, unsure what to say next. He’s going to hit the roof when he finds out she’s coming to London with me.
I roll my fingers on the armrest of the couch as I troll my brain for an attack plan.
“Dinner’s ready,” Hayden calls.
Harvey gets up and walks past me out of the room, and I glare after him.
Seriously?
Could he be any less hospitable?
Thank fuck Hayden takes after her mother and not this rude prick.
I walk in to find a spread on the dining table, plate after plate of delicious food.
Jeez . . . has she been cooking for a week? I don’t know if my mother has cooked this much food in my entire life.
“Are there others coming?” I ask.
“No.” Hayden smiles as she gestures to my chair. “Just us.”