“Very funny!” Despite my irritation, I laugh, not offended in the least. He’s always teased me about my bed head. It’s been an ongoing joke since I was a little girl when he’d have to painfully, patiently get the tangles out before school. It got so bad I started wrapping my hair in silk wraps in my teen years to help control it, but that never seemed to work since apparently, I roll around like the possessed girl from The Exorcist in my sleep.

Eventually, I said to hell with it and just started fixing it with a shower, heavy conditioning, and a quick blowout in the morning.

“Not everyone can wake up looking picture perfect like Your Highness,” I tell him, stroking his ego. “And I just rolled out of bed, so I have an excuse.”

“You’re definitely right about that,” Dad agrees, smoothing back his already impeccably slicked back hair. But there’s a hint of laughter in his eyes, letting me know he hasn’t gone totally arrogant in his not-that-old age. “But you’re just getting out of bed? Honey, you really do need to make time for yourself. Early to bed, early to rise, get a workout in and a healthy breakfast to start your day right.”

It’s advice, but it’s also a recap of his morning as he holds up a glass containing green glop. He takes a good gulp of the drink, and I cringe. That stuff tastes like grass, and I refuse to drink it anymore now that I can make my own coffee and Pop Tart breakfast.

I roll my eyes in an exaggerated enough manner to make sure he sees it. “Give me a break. I’ve had a rough start this morning. Sophie’s been playing soul stealer again, and I damn near tripped and broke my neck before you called. The only thing that could make it worse is that Peeping Tom I caught outside my window a couple of nights ago.”

Dad frowns and leans forward to get closer to the camera, suddenly serious and on edge. “Peeping Tom?” Dad’s breath escapes him in a huff. “Should I send the boys to check everything out?”

I let out a groan.

But Dad’s on a roll now. “Security system, with door and window alarms. Maybe have the boys sleep over for a few nights to see if they can catch the fucker . . .”

My cousins, Billy and Ricky, or as Tiffany likes to call them, Bebop and Rocksteady, are like my dad’s adopted sons. More meat than brains, they’ve been a thorn in my side ever since I could remember, with Dad having them watch over me like hawks.

Their primary mission? Keep me safe, which leads conveniently into their secondary mission, no fun for Elle. And now I’m talking about myself in the third person like I’m crazy. Thanks, Dad!

At least I’ve always been able to outsmart Billy and Ricky so they haven’t been much of a hindrance to my shenanigans.

“Dad, didn’t we already have this discussion?” I ask in a tired tone and giving him the ‘look’ through the camera. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t need anyone to come looking after me just because I’m having a rough morning. Besides, I was just joking about the Peeping Tom thing. Payback.” I stick my tongue out, disproving my claim of being an adult.

“Seriously? That doesn’t stop me from worrying about you, El,” Dad says, not amused by my little joke. “No matter how old you get, I’ll always worry about you. It’s my job.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the worry lines etched in his brow pull at my heartstrings, and for a moment, I empathize with him.

After all, his worry isn’t totally unfounded, given our family’s history. Our life had seemed pretty picturesque, but then came the fateful day where Mom up and left with no explanation. No goodbye letter. No telling me, or him, that she loved us.

Nothing.

She just disappeared one day, never to be heard from again.

At first, we’d thought the worst and Dad had even called the police to report her missing. But she hadn’t been missing. She’d just left us. To say Dad was devastated is an understatement. His entire life, his partner, his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

We later found out that she was having an affair with an old college flame, and he was tired of being the side dick, so he gave her an ultimatum. Him or her family.

She chose him, and I’ve never even gotten a birthday card since.

Dad reacted by going insular, focusing on me and work, in that order. For a while, I reveled in being his main focus. He made me feel safe, comforted, and loved in the face of my mother’s rejection, which was no small task. And somehow, he managed to still be a machine about work. When I learned what the word efficient means, I immediately saw Dad. He’d drop me off at school at eight, and while I would catch a ride home with my cousins or a friend, he was always there by five thirty to take me to ballet class, Girl Scouts, or whatever. He even cooked, and he cooked good stuff too. No spaghetti from a can in my house. He balanced it all and made it seem effortless and easy.

But as I got older, things changed.

I coped rather oppositely, deciding that living safe was no guarantee of a happily ever after, so why not try YOLO instead? If I’m only living once, I’m going to make the absolute best of it.

Okay, so that led to a couple of scares. I might’ve jumped off the roof into the pool once or twice, and I sorta got into it with a curb and broke my nose after spinning around a bat a few dozen times. And there was the time I decided I could handle hard liquor even though I’d never so much as had a beer. And those are just the things Dad knows about.

Eventually, I wouldn’t say no to any dare, no matter how crazy it was. If someone said those magic words—I dare you—I was in.

“Well, stop worrying about me,” I tell Dad, shaking myself out of my reverie. “I can take care of myself, remember? Lord knows, Billy and Ricky made sure I knew how to squash a guy’s nuts like a pumpkin pie as soon as I was old enough to swear.”

Dad’s answering grunt sounds a bit pained, as if the summoned imagery makes him think of his own family jewels getting crushed, but he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like, “Good boys.”

I cut him off, wanting to change the subject from the one we’ve beaten to death, reanimated like a zombie, and beaten to death again. “I’ve got to get ready. But quickly, before I go, how’s the search for Fox’s HQ2 coming along?”

Dad brightens, straightening his shoulders and steepling his fingers beneath his chin, his eyes brimming with excitement. If there’s one thing he loves almost as much as me, it’s work. And with my ‘leaving the nest’, first for college and then getting my own apartment, he’s been able to rocket up the corporate ladder even faster.

The recent announcement that Fox Industries would be acquiring a second headquarters, along with a Regional President to run it, had every top executive scrambling to produce the best location for the company.

Rumor has it, Dad’s plan is top on the company’s list.

“Great! The board is still hearing presentations, but I think they’re close to voting. If everything goes to plan, you’re looking at the new President of Fox HQ2!” Dad gloats.

I clap my hands and let out a whoop, causing Sophie to jump at the sudden noise. “Wow, that’s awesome! I’m so happy for you!”

Dad beams, but then he leans forward, looking at me expectantly. Even through the screen, his gaze is heavy and meaningful. “If I land the deal and get promoted, you know what that means, right?”