Page 83 of Once Upon a Lie

“Hello?” My voice is breathless and wanton, even to my own ears, but the one on the other end cuts that off at the quick.

“Teeny,” my dad’s firm bark greets me loudly. Talk about killing a vaginal spark.

“Daddy?”

“Where the hell is your paperwork, sweetie pie? Damon’s been waiting on it for a week. We talked about this. Quarterly estimated payments are due next week, and because you had to file an extension last year, the accountants need everything clean and reconciled. They’re not fucking magicians.”

Technically, the need for an extension wasn’t my fault, but I know my dad doesn’t care about the semantics.

I wince. “I . . . well, I’ll get it together tomorrow, Daddy, I promise.”

“Tomorrow?” he snaps. “No. No, baby, you won’t. You’ll put it together tonight, and Leo will be by in the morning to get it.”

I stomp my foot like a teenager. I don’t want to spend the night getting tax paperwork together. I have plans. Very, very sexy plans with a very, very sexy man.

Not that I can say that to my father. For as much time as he’s spent trying to push me toward Leonidas, I swear the other part of him still thinks I’m a virgin.

I clear my throat and drop my voice to its most placating.

“But Daddy—”

“‘But Daddy’ nothing, sweet pea. Damon can’t shit out a filing, as much as I’m sure he’d love the ability. He needs the numbers. Leo’ll be by in the morning to pick it up. Love you.”

The line goes dead without a chance for further refusal, and I know with rapidly growing disappointment that this night isn’t going to go at all how I wanted it to.

My dad is a lot of different things from what he was in New York, but he’s sure as hell not a man you say no to without consequences. At least not about stuff like this. With Leo and his pushiness, there’s a buffer because of how personal a physical relationship with someone is.

But paperwork? Money? You don’t say no to Tommy Cordone, even if you’re his daughter.

“Dammit.”

So much for a night of seduction and kissing and Shane Maddox. This date isn’t happening. I’m doing tax preparation instead. Ughhh.

My phone buzzes almost instantly in my hand, and I groan when I see the name on the screen.

Leonidas: ​​Hey, Valentina. Your dad said I’m grabbing the paperwork tomorrow. I’m going to swing by a little early to grab a bagel and coffee with you.​​

Sheesh. Was he sitting right beside my father when he called me?

And of course he’s trying to turn an errand into something more.

I close my eyes for half a second, letting the irritation burn off before I answer.

Me: ​​Sorry, Leo, but The Hole Story’s closed tomorrow. Sundays are my one sacred rule.​​

A pause. Then another buzz.

Leonidas: ​​That could be nice, though, Valentina. Just us. We never really get time to talk.​​

God help me. I shake my head.

Me: ​​Sorry, Leo. I can’t. But I’ll bag something up for you to-go when you pick up the paperwork.​​

There’s a longer delay this time.

Leonidas: ​​Rain check then.​​

I don’t respond. Instead, I lock my phone, toss it face down onto the bed, and exhale hard through my nose.