DADDY'S GIRL

I never thought of him this way before.

For years, James Reynolds was just my stepdad—the guy who raised me after my mom left when I was seven. He attended all my school events, taught me how to drive, and told my first boyfriend he'd better have me home by eleven or else.

But lately, something's changed. And it scares me.

"Anna! Hello? What are you getting James for his birthday?" Daisy waved her hand in front of my face while we walked through the fancy store.

"No idea," I said, touching some silk ties. "What do you buy someone who could buy this whole place now?"

Three months ago, James sold his tech company for billions. We went from regular people to super rich overnight. We moved from our normal house to a mansion. He traded his old car for a bunch of expensive ones worth more than my college tuition.

All this money changed everything—except the empty feeling from when my mom abandoned us. Money can't fix that. I wonder if anything can.

"Maybe get him cologne," Daisy suggested with a grin. "Guys like that. Or something extra fancy since he's a billionaire now?" She gave me a playful look.

"Stop it," I said too harshly.

Daisy looked surprised. "Wow, touchy much? I just meant some fancy designer stuff, not whatever you thought."

What's wrong with me lately? When people talk about James, I get all protective feelings I know I shouldn't have.

"Sorry," I said. "Just stressed about dinner tonight. He's been acting weird lately."

Daisy squeezed my shoulder. "Money changes people, Anna. But James raised you. That connection doesn't just go away."

If only she knew how much I'd been thinking about that "connection" lately.

We shopped for another hour. Nothing seemed good enough for the man who gave up his young years to raise someone else's kid.

Then I saw it a vintage “Patek Philippe” watch. Simple but beautiful. James always liked meaningful things more than flashy ones. At least he used to.

"That's it," I said quietly.

The salesperson smiled. "Great choice. Want it wrapped?"

I nodded, ignoring the price. One good thing about being rich now I don't have to worry about money anymore.

When we got back to the mansion, Daisy looked up at the big entrance and huge light hanging from the ceiling. "This place is crazy," she whispered.

"Me neither." I led her through rooms I still got lost in sometimes. "Kitchen's this way. I thought we'd make his favorite lasagna."

Daisy laughed. "Homemade food for a billionaire? That's actually perfect."

We spent the next two hours cooking and setting the table with fancy dishes. I even put out fresh peonies James's favorite flowers.

By nine, he still hadn't shown up. I'd texted him twice about our celebration. Daisy was supposed to stay over, but what was the point without the birthday boy?

"He's probably working late," I said, though we both knew better.

The lasagna got cold. The candles burned down. Eventually Daisy ran out of things to talk about.

"You should get some sleep," I told her. "Guest room's upstairs, third door on the left. Has its own bathroom."

"What about you?" she asked, looking worried.

I forced a smile. "Not feeling sleepy for now."

After Daisy left, I sat on the couch looking out the windows. When did James and I stop being close? Was it because of all the money? Or maybe because of these wrong feelings I kept having?

At 11:42 PM, the security system beeped. James stumbled through the door, his expensive suit wrinkled, hair messy. He smelled like scotch and someone else's perfume.

"Anna?" he squinted. "Why are you still up, sweetheart?"

That word made my heart flutter. I immediately pushed the feeling away.

"Your birthday dinner," I said coldly. "We waited for hours."

He ran his hand through his dark hair a gesture so familiar it hurt. "God, I'm sorry. New clients wanted to celebrate the deal and—"

Then I noticed the lipstick on his collar. Bright red against white.

Something broke inside me. I walked across the floor and grabbed his arm.

"You promised," I whispered angrily. "After you were in the hospital last time, you promised you'd stop drinking."

His blue eyes cleared a little. He put his hand over mine where I was gripping his arm.

"Anna," he said softly.

The warmth of his skin sent a shock through me. I pulled my hand away like it burned.

"Daisy's asleep upstairs," I said, stepping back. "Your gift is in the kitchen."

As I turned to leave, he caught my wrist. "Wait."

Our eyes met. For a moment, something passed between us something new and dangerous and impossible.

Then he swayed slightly, breaking the moment.

"We'll talk tomorrow," I muttered, pulling free. "When you're sober."

"Anna, please," he said, suddenly sounding clearer. "I know I've been... different lately. The pressure of everything—"

"Save it," I interrupted. "This isn't the first time, James. The drinking, staying out late, the women... You're not the same person anymore."

Pain showed on his face. "Is that what you think of me now?"

"What am I supposed to think? You disappear for days. You come home smelling like other women's perfume. The James who raised me wouldn't—"

"The James who raised you is tired!" he snapped, then softened. "Anna, I've been taking care of everyone else since I was twenty-three. For once in my life, I just want to..."

"To what? Destroy yourself? Because that's what you're doing."

He stepped closer, and despite everything, my heart raced. "I'm sorry about tonight. Really. But you're not my keeper, Anna. You're my—"

He stopped suddenly, something changing in his eyes as they dropped to my lips for just a second.

I ran up the big staircase, my heart pounding like crazy.

What was happening to me? To us?

This wasn't just about him missing dinner or his drinking. This was about feelings I shouldn't have feelings for the only person who never left me.

I closed my bedroom door and slid down against it, hugging my knees.

James had been my rock, my protector, my father figure for fifteen years.

So why did I suddenly want more?

And worse did I imagine it, or did he feel it too?