Anyone But Her

O N E

"I don't let anything keep me from a good deal."

Demetrius Castile's voice coming from my TV? Unacceptable.

The screen showing my father's smiling face went black, and I flung the remote away.

I needed out of this place.

I grabbed my car keys, tossing them back and forth between my hands, and chuckled as I recalled how I used to try to impress girls by telling them I was ambidextrous. A claim that never failed to get colorful retorts.

The bell rang just as I reached the front doors. I blinked at the video monitor, questioning my vision.

There was no way.

No way that Kenna Gold would come here.

Ever.

I rubbed my eyes hard, glad I'd skipped the makeup today, and looked again.

She was still standing there. Staring right at the camera. No expression on her pretty little face. No hint of what this might be about. And no reason for me to care.

Rather than pressing the button that would allow me to question her inexcusable presence on this property, I retreated from the monitor, my middle finger raised. Not that she'd see it.

I'd need to wait until she left to go out. If Kenna or her mother had business with my father, they'd have to take it up with him. I wasn't involving myself.

Pocketing my keys, I walked away as the doorbell rang again.

And again.

Seriously, what the hell was she doing here? Had the world ended? Were zombies on her trail—and Dad's, the only home in her path? Maybe all the others had been overridden. I shrugged. Oh, well. She was just going to have to be devoured.

Kenna seemed to give up around the time I got to my breakfast: a few handfuls of cereal right out of the box. There were several gallons of milk in the fridge, but I hadn't bought those, so I didn't touch them.

Never before could I have described a kitchen as unnecessary. Packed with untouched appliances and larger than my house—my real house—it was just that.

A small section of the enormous fridge was mine to stock, along with one cabinet. I'd walked in for a snack once and caught Dad with the fridge and cabinet doors open, staring at my purchases, his arms crossed. "Stubborn," he'd said.

Yeah...I took after him. Although, if he'd had his way, his mansion would've been in my name a long time ago. He'd lost that battle.

I didn't require much space—I'd taken the smallest bedroom of twelve for my own convenience—and I never left a mess for the staff that came and went. I wanted a clear, respectful line at all times. I was not their boss, and I intended to be ignored—as if I wasn't there at all.

Unbelievably, before I was forced to move in, no one had ever lived here with Dad—he still barely lived here himself. He preferred to stay at his hotel, the Castile, or his company headquarters.

I glanced at the empty stool opposite me and smiled a little. Our most recent conversation had been a good one.

"Hey, Dad...you ever...?" He looked over. "...have any interest..." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "...in...?"

"For God's sake, finish your sentence!" he cried.

I cracked up. "...other men? I mean, have you ever been attracted to one?"

"Oh." He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "No. Just the usual noticing somebody's good-looking, but recognizing that you're better-looking."

I shook my head and said fondly, "You know, Dad, sometimes I'm reminded that you're not all bad."