I nodded and walked to the counter, glancing at my father. “Do you want a cup?”
My father blinked. Twice. “I’ll take something a little harder if it’s available.”
Godric rested more comfortably on his chair and tossed his arm over the back of mine. “I’ve got a bottle of whiskey.”
My father looked back to where I was working on the coffee machine. “I want the whole bottle.”
I chuckled. “I’ll get you two shots of whiskey and a cup of coffee.”
“I guess that’ll have to do.” My father turned his attention to the person he really wanted to speak with. “Tell me, Mr. King, how in the hell do you think this is actually going to work? While it appears you two have fallen head over heels for each other, you and I are still on opposite sides of every world view. Ideals, I might add, my daughter also agrees with.”
Godric cracked his neck, the popping noise like wood breaking. “I’m doing what I believe is best for the entire populace of the world—”
My father jerked his hand up in a stopping gesture. “I don’t want to talk business, Mr. King. I want to know how you actually believe this personal relationship is going to work.”
Godric stared into his eyes. “Like any other relationship does. With bumps and bruises. I can’t tell you a perfect fix for this situation.” He shook his head of tawny curls. “I’ve fallen for a woman who is funny and intelligent and strong and beautiful. I didn’t want to. My parents’ marriage was so fucked up that I never wanted a relationship. But as soon as I met Poppy, I started falling. I won’t let her go now. I care too deeply for her to do that.”
I slowly shut my gaping mouth.
My hand looked a little ridiculous halfway up in the air with a spoonful of cold macaroni, so I quickly stuffed the food into my mouth. I chewed and aimed a direct glare at my father.
He was upsetting Godric. I didn’t like that.
My father rubbed his chin, glanced at me, and then looked back to the man across from him. “You two are very different. Do you believe it will work long-term?”
“Are you asking if I’m going to marry her?”
I froze in place, another bite of macaroni caught in mid-air.
My father shrugged. “Is that a possibility?”
“When I think she’s ready, I’ll ask her.”
I ate my bite, chewing slowly.
My father looked into my eyes.
I nodded. I approved of his answer.
My father raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he glanced to Godric. His features shut down, his expression stone cold. “I have one personal question of my own. One I’ve never asked you, and perhaps I should have. Did you know there was a glitch in your system? Were you just cutting corners to make more money?”
I held my breath.
Godric didn’t flinch. He stated, “I didn’t know about the glitch that failed your wife. I would never have held back lifesaving supplies. There are plenty of cities now that continue to receive medical equipment, even when they are millions of units behind in payments.”
I exhaled heavily, a lifetime of accusation lifted from my shoulders. I poured the brewed coffee and the whiskey. The two men were quite still as I set the multiple cups on the table.
On my way back to the counter, I squeezed Godric’s shoulder in appreciation. My father and I had both needed to hear that. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it back, letting my palm slide out of his grasp as I walked to get my food.
Godric murmured respectfully, “I’ve never said this before either. And I should have. I am truly sorry for the loss of your wife, General Carvene.”
My father sucked in a large breath.
I put my macaroni down on the table and instantly rushed to my father’s side. I leaned over and threw my arms around him. My father trembled in my arms, tucking his head against my shoulder, and held me with strong arms.
A tear had slipped down his cheek.
I had only seen him cry once—by my mom’s hospital bed when there was nothing left to do to save her.
My eyes burned as I rubbed his back.
“I think I have an idea, Father,” I whispered. “A way to make everyone believe you accept our relationship on a personal level but not on a professional level.”
His head lifted, and his eyes were thankfully dry now. “What has my darling dearest come up with now?”
“You’ll see.”
*
“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Godric whispered the next day through a fake smile plastered on his face. He lifted his hand and flicked his wrist in a small wave to the photographers outside the restaurant’s window. His eyes returned to mine. “How many times do we have to do this?”
“At least once every two months,” I answered primly. I pointed to the food on his plate. “Eat something, or they’ll think you’re not having fun.”
My father chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. He was enjoying Godric’s discomfort immensely. We were in Port, definitely not New City. This was saving my father’s reputation with his army. He chewed a baby potato and swallowed it before stating, “The food is excellent here. Relax and enjoy it.”
Godric grumbled under his breath but started cutting into his steak. “You should probably lean over and kiss me. They need to know we’re a couple, and I’m not just here schmoozing with your father and his daughter.”
My lips twitched.
He wanted to save face with his own subordinates too.
I leaned on my chair in his direction, and he looked up, completely attuned to my body. His head dipped, and he pressed his lips to mine for a chaste but loving kiss. I leaned back on my chair and cleared my throat.
My father muttered, “I may have lost my appetite.”
“Don’t look disgusted or you’ll ruin this,” I mumbled, with a smile on my face. I took a drink of wine from my glass, asking behind it, “Did they take a picture of that?”
My father snorted and scanned his plate for his next bite. “Yes. My guess is it will be everywhere within the next five minutes.”