"What did you tell your mother?"
Amy peeled her attention off of the passenger's side window to look over at him. "Um, I just told her that me and my friend, Courtney, were going to the movies. Then going to get a pizza." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.
Christian may not have seemed to care much about what she told her adoptive mother, but another part of him was curious. He didn't know what he'd do if the woman found out about him. The last thing he wanted was for her to be taken from him. He wouldn't let it happen. Not again. He'd been through enough as it was. He nodded his head, stealing a glance over at her. "And she was okay with that?" In other words, did she believe her?
"Yeah. Why wouldn't she be? Well...there are times when she can be a major bitch, but other times, she's stupid enough to believe me. I guess it all depends on her."
A chuckle escaped him. That sounded a lot like something he'd say, given the circumstances. "Ah, I see. You don't exactly see eye to eye most of the time."
She shook her head. "Not really. Since my parents got divorced...I don't know. I guess she's changed. She didn't use to be as defensive with me as she is now."
He stopped to wonder, how was this woman treating her compared to Danielle? Not only her adoptive mother, but her father as well. These were questions he was determined to find the answers to. Along with so many others. He cleared his throat. "Believe me sweetheart, when you get to be my age, you discover that all parents are the same. Up until the day you pack up and move out. God forbid you should live under their roof for the rest of your life."
She exchanged a look with him before a weary sigh escaped her. Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffed. "If only I could move out. If I had a job, that would be the one thing I'd be saving up for, a house. Or even an apartment. Even if it took years. I just want my own space."
If he had it his way, he would buy her that place of her own. Then again, he didn't have the rights to pull her out of her own home. Sean's words were already coming back to haunt him. He was right. He couldn't take her away from her family. Unless of course he had good reason to. "In time...you'll have it."
She propped her elbow up on the door and leaned her cheek on her hand. "Yeah...in time."
Christian took his eyes off of the road to look over at her. It broke his heart to see her so miserable. He wanted to do something for her. Other than take her out to an expensive restaurant. She deserved more. If he was going to be a good father, he had to start taking the initiative and go the extra mile for her. Make her feel loved and cherished the way any other father would. He forced a small smile, even though she did not look up at him. The next few minutes, neither one of them said another word to the other. It wasn't that Christian didn't want to talk to her, but at the moment, he couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd wait until they got to the restaurant where they'd be face-to-face. It was hard to hold any suitable conversation in a dark vehicle. Unless of course, she weren't his daughter, but that was another situation all together. Something that he didn't want to fathom...ever again.
By the time eight o' clock came, Christian was pulling into the parking lot of Monty's Stone Crab & Seafood Restaurant on Alton Road. He found a space about twenty feet away from the entrance, parked the vehicle and turned off the engine. "Here we are." He turned towards Amy, noticing that something wasn't right with her. She looked as if she had been crying. Either that or she was about to start crying. His brows furrowed inquisitively, reaching out and placing his hand on her shoulder. "Hey. What's wrong?"
She took in a breath and shook her head. "Nothing. I'm fine." She lifted her eyes up from her lap to meet with his, giving him a small smile.
He sighed wearily, his gaze becoming firm. "I don't believe that for a second. There's still tears in your eyes. Now tell me what's going on."
She exhaled sharply, turning towards him. One of her hands came up to brush away those stray tears with the back of her index finger. "It's nothing. Really. It's just..." She bit down on her bottom lip, gazing into his intent eyes almost as if she were debating whether or not she should speak. "I'm so glad that you're my father. Does that sound weird to you?"
Somehow, he didn't think that was what she was going to say, but her words still succeeded in warming his heart. So much so, he had to hold back the tears that were already welling up in his own eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. "Not at all." He moved his hand from her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her close to kiss the top of her head. In the next moment, before he even realized what was happening, she broke down into tears. He didn't understand if it was something he had said or done, but he brought her closer to him nonetheless, allowing her to sob into his shoulder. He dipped his chin to gaze down at her intently, "why are you crying sweetheart?"
She sniffled deeply. "I just wish..." She shook her head, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I was thinking. I probably would have been better off now if you'd have raised me. I wouldn't have had to deal with so much shit growing up. I'm sorry. I know that I don't know you as well as I wish I did, but I can't keep this inside me any longer. I need someone to turn to."
He scowled gravely, resting his cheek on top of her head. A tear escaped the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek. He brought her closer to him, if it were possible, not wanting to let her go. Something took over inside him. A paternal instinct to shelter her from whatever doubts or old wounds she had bottled up inside. It took him a moment to find his voice, but when he did, his words came out in nothing more than a whisper. "I'm here. Whenever you need me sweetheart, I'm here." A couple more tears trickled down his cheeks. No longer was he able to hold himself together. At this point, he didn't need to hide his sensitivity from her anymore.
She gently nodded her head and sniffled deeply. "Thank you." Gently, she slipped out of his embrace and sat back in her seat. A weary sigh escaped her as she unzipped her purse and took out a tissue. Stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, she groaned as she began drying her eyes. "Ugh. I'm a mess. I can't go in there looking like this." She grumbled. "My make-up is ruined."
Christian sighed softly, taking a moment to compose himself. He looked over at her with an intent eye, scrutinizing her facial features in the same way he would a client in his office. "You look fine. In fact," he leaned in and placed a kiss to her cheek, "you look better than fine. Trust me, no one is going to notice. You're beautiful just the way you are." He smiled smugly, sat back in his seat, and straightened out his suit jacket.
She dabbed at the streaks of eyeliner beneath her eyes. Her cheeks flushed at his words. "Well thanks." A light laugh escaped her.
He nodded towards the restaurant. "Shall we?" The two exchanged a smile before they slipped out of the vehicle. The whistle of a steam boat sounded off in the distance. The sound of a bell resonated through the evening breeze. A yacht had just docked at the marina. The black porsche chirped once Christian pressed the button to lock the doors. After shoving his keys into his pocket, he turned and offered Amy his elbow just as she stepped up onto the curb. She smirked at his gesture and willingly took his arm. Together, they strolled towards the front glass doors of the extensive building, and entered the restaurant.
The architecture of the vast facility was very much designed in the tropical Florida-style atmosphere, with just a touch of Rome from the high archways and pillars. Upon walking inside, the building seemed almost as big as a high school gymnasium. The high placed ceilings created a great sense of space that almost made you feel as though you were in a palace. Not only was the restaurant huge, but it offered a breathtaking view of the marina. A sight that could be seen through the large glass windows that lined the building. The decor was unique in its own right, but there was no mistaking the state of the art sound system installed. Sting's song, "Fields Of Gold" played lightly over unseen speakers. Dozens of round tables occupied the front area of the building. There were enough tables to seat, what one could estimate, one hundred and eighty guests. Each table was covered by a white table cloth and held a tropical floral bouquet in the center. A bar sat adjacent to the main dining area on the right, and there was even a black marbel dance floor. The place was fairly crowded this Saturday night. That was no surprise to Christian.
Amy's jaw hung open when she laid eyes on everything. "Wow! This is..." She shook her head. Clearly, she didn't have words to describe it.
Christian smiled smugly. "Incredible? I know, but this is only the beginning. Wait until you try the food." A grin spread across her face. He stepped towards the hostess near the door. The man stood behind a wooden podium and wore a white dress shirt and tie. A tropical pattern was on the tie. "Christian Troy, reservation for two at eight o' clock sharp," he informed the man, the same smile never disappearing from his face.
The hostess' eyes scanned over the names scrawled on the board before him. "Ah yes, Mr. Troy. Right this way." He took two menus from the side of the podium and lead them towards their table.
Christian cringed at the way in which the man addressed him. He'd always preferred, "Dr. Troy" over "Mr. Troy." Simply because it brought back old childhood memories. Memories that he would prefer not to dredge up ever again. As much as he wanted to open up to his daughter tonight, he hoped she would not ask him any questions about his childhood.
Amy walked up the few steps to a semiprivate dining area just above the main dining area. The whole time, keeping her arm tucked under that of her father's. Her gaze darted in all directions, assessing her surroundings in astoundment. The two of them passed under a high archway and the hostess sat them down at a table positioned in front of the window, overlooking the marina. Lights shimmered from both the lamp posts and yachts drifting on the sea in the distance. It was a beautiful sight.
Christian came over and pulled out Amy's chair much to her delight. She thanked him and he took the seat across from her. Once they were seated, the hostess asked them what they wanted to drink. After they relayed their choices, the man told them a waiter would be with them shortly, and headed off in the opposite direction. Both Amy and Christian exchanged a smile before picking up their menus and scanning them.
He stole a glance at the young woman across from him. "Alone at last. Any idea about what you're going to order? Oh and don't worry about the price, sweetheart. It's not an issue in this circumstance." He smiled kindly.
She looked up from her menu with a bright smile. "Wow, ok. Thank you. Oh and no, I don't know what I want yet." She dropped her gaze back to the menu. "All I know is I want lobster and crab."
He chuckled. "You can have whatever you want at any price you want. It's not a problem."
She stole a glance around the area. "How did you manage to get us a reservation tonight? This place is practically packed."
Christian snickered. He looked over at her, his eyes narrowing in mock thought. "I have connections."
She laughed. "Oh, what? Did you guarantee them free plastic surgery or something?"
"Something like that. You are very perceptive, aren't you? Yet another quality that we both seem to share. Interesting." He grinned.
Amy giggled nervously, nodding her head. "I guess so. I mean, I'm not psychic or anything. I guess you could say, I've picked up on a few things about you since we've met."
Christian decided on what he wanted to order and set his menu down. Folding his hands on the table, he leaned closer to her. One of his brows furrowed inquisitively. "Have you? And just what might those things be?"
She brought the menu up and little higher. So high that only her eyes were peeking out. "Well, I don't have to go into detail about the whole playboy image again. Then there's the way you can be perceptive. You could tell...there was something wrong with me earlier." She cleared her throat, bringing the menu down a little. "Also, you seem like the kind of man who could get whatever her wants...no matter what. Am I right?"
He flashed her another smile and nodded. "You are very good. I believe you've hit the nail right on the head."
"I thought so," she smirked. Her eyes fixated on the menu in her hands. "Hey, I guess you were right. They do have all-you-can-eat." She set her menu down before her. "I'll just get the medium all-you-can-eat. It's got both stuff I want in there anyway." She sighed softly, looking over at him.
"I told you, you wouldn't be disappointed." He noted, sitting back in his seat. A moment later, a waiter came strolling towards their table. He set down Amy's glass of Sprite and Christian's glass of champagne. Christian thanked the man, and relayed his and Amy's orders to him. The man acknowledged them on his notepad, took their menus, and walked off. "So," Christian took his eyes off of the departing man and gave his daughter his undivided attention. "I believe it's time we get to know each other a little better, don't you?"
She seemed a little hesitant but nodded her head lightly. "Yeah...I guess so."
He arched his brows expectantly, waiting for her to say something, but from the look of it, it appeared as if she were too afraid to say anything. He didn't blame her. This must have been as awkward for her as it was for him. Neither one of them knew how to start. They had both been through so much in their past. Things had happened that they did not think the other could handle. He sighed deeply, finally breaking the silence that had accumulated between them. "One of us should say something before the evening ends."
She exhaled sharply, placing her elbow on the table and leaning her cheek on her hand. "I know, I'm sorry. There's so much though. I don't even know where to begin. You have questions to ask and I have questions to ask. I just don't know where to start."
How about starting with your adoptive parents? He was tempted to ask, but felt that wouldn't be such a good topic to start out on. He had to allow her to get comfortable with him. She probably wouldn't reveal anything of that nature until she had. He cleared his throat. "All right, allow me. How long have you lived in South Beach?"
"Not long." She shook her head. "Actually, we've only been here a month. My...mom's boyfriend wanted to. He thought he'd find a better chance of employment out here. I originally grew up in West Hollywood, California."
He nodded his head as he lifted his glass up to his lips to take a swig. He set it back down with a smirk. "Hollywood, huh? Home to all the stars? Big city. Did you live next door to Brad Pitt?"
She laughed with a roll of her eyes. "No. I don't think I would have even cared if I were living next to Brad Pitt. He's not my type anyway."
Christian scoffed. "And why would he be? You are after all a Troy. You could do a lot better." A grin spread across his face.
She laughed once again. "I know I could." Her laughter died down, a woeful sigh escaping her. "I don't really see why he couldn't have found employment in L.A. I guess he was just lazy. I never thought that in moving here...I would find...you." She gave him a small smile.
He turned somber once she spoke those last words, a lump forming in his throat. His heart constricted in his chest, wishing that he had only found her sooner. He swallowed the lump and sighed softly. "Believe me, I never thought I would find you either. I never imagined..." His voice trailed off. Gazing into her eyes caused his emotions to begin rising to the surface. He pursed his lips, trying mercifully not to lose it again.
Amy chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. It seemed as if she were on the brink of losing her composure as well. "I know," she spoke softly.
He took in a breath to compose himself before moving on to his next question. "How long have your parents been divorced?"
She sighed deeply. "Eight years. I don't really like to think about it or even talk about it."
He nodded his head lightly, knowing what she must be going through. "Well, if it makes you feel any better...I was adopted too." Her eyes widned in astoundment, bewilderment crossing her face. He found himself pushing another lump down in his throat before getting up the strength to continue. "I never knew my parents. Not their faces. Not even their names. My foster father..." His heart pounded in his chest as he held tight to his emotions already drifting to the surface. "Treated me like shit. At the time, I didn't have anything. Anyone. When he took me in...I never imagined what I'd be walking into. I never saw it coming. He never took pity on me. I was nothing but a pawn to him."
She listened to him in sorrow. Tears were already welling up in her eyes. The look that registered on her face was concern and pain. It was almost as if she could put herself in his position. He did not think much of her reaction as he was too absorbed in the painful memories of his past.
He cleared his throat, stole a glance around the area to make sure no one was listening in, and lowered his voice to a tone that only she would hear. He sighed deeply, averting his eyes to the table before them. "By the time I was eighteen, the son of a bitch was thrown in jail on molestation charges." He bit back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. "Suffice to say, I should have forgotten all about the bastard and moved on with my life. I tried, but it took me a long time to realize he can't touch me anymore." He gradually lifted his gaze back up to her, noticing not only that her eyes were averted to her lap, but she looked as if she were crying. "Hey. Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
She sniffled softly, gradually lifting her chin up and meeting his inquisitive gaze. "My..." Her bottom lip trembled with on coming tears. She shook her head and looked back down at her lap. "My adoptive father...wasn't so nice to me either. As much as I try to forget about him...he won't leave me alone."
His jaw hung open in astoundment, his brows furrowing in thought. What was she talking about? Was this man harassing her? He had to know more. "What?"
She pursed her lips, bringing one of her hands up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Keeping her tone at the same tone he had used earlier, she leaned a little closer to him before speaking. "When I was growing up, he...he use to beat me." Her voice broke with emotion. "He would hit me with a belt or...just his hands. Not just me, but my mom too. He would...make threats to us. Sometimes we had to even stay at a motel, somewhere he wouldn't find us." The tears began streaming down her cheeks, pausing to try and compose herself.
Christian couldn't believe everything that he was hearing. The assumptions he'd had about her before had been true. Whoever this man was, it was possible that he was hurting his daughter, and had been doing it for years. Fury began rising inside him. Not only fury but remorse. He wanted to find this man, wherever he was, and he wanted to beat the shit out of him. No one was going to hurt his daughter and get away with it. Not if he had anything to do about it. He took a deep breath to calm his emotions, keeping his gaze locked on her melancholy form. He shook his head. "That son of a bitch," he murmured. His eyes narrowed in consideration, "is this guy still around? Is he still hurting you like this?"
She wiped the stray tears from her eyes, looked up at him and shook her head. "No. Well, I mean, he's not dead, but he doesn't live here, or even in California anymore. He lives in New York now. He still calls me every now and then, but he's not here. I wish he'd stop calling me. Then again, there's nothing I can really do about it. He still thinks he's my..." She paused. Christian blinked, already knowing what was coming. "My father. I never thought of him as my father, ever since he treated me like that, and I never will. I hate him. I hate the way he gets to me."
His gaze turned stone cold with his next words. "Is he still making threats to you?"
She seemed to hesitate at that question but finally shook her head. "No."
He sighed in frustration. "Don't lie to me. If this asshole is still harassing you, you need to tell me."
She shook her head more firmly than before. "He's not. Don't worry, I would tell you if he was, but he's not." Finally, she picked up her glass of Sprite and took a long sip. Long enough that he could not ask her anymore questions. At least for the time being.
Christian sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, averting his eyes to something else in the room. A long sigh escaped him. Soon enough, he found his gaze traveling back to her. He might be perceptive, but at the moment, he couldn't tell if she was lying to him or if she was genuinely telling him the truth. He may have passed his perceptive nature down to her. Then again, she could also be a skillful actress. There really was no way of telling what was going on in that head of hers, but he sure wished he could find out.