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coming.”

      “I meant to call first.” She shrugged out of her wet hoodie.

      Her father took the hoodie and placed it on an odd-shaped granite-topped table that took up most of the marble entryway. “Where’s your mother?” he asked.

      “She’s in England on business. But it was her idea that I fly down and spend Thanksgiving with you.”

      “I’m glad she did.” Finally, he pulled her into his arms for a hug.

      Once the hug was out of the way, the reunion grew even more awkward. He looked past her, picked up her two suitcases and set them inside the condo.

      She shifted her heavy computer bag from one shoulder to the other.

      “Here, let me take that for you,” he offered. Once the bag was on his shoulder, he closed and locked the door. “So you just flew from San Francisco to Dallas by yourself?” he asked, still looking puzzled.

      “I’m fifteen.”

      “And no longer a kid, I know. Still, I can’t imagine your mother letting you make the trip without checking with me first. What if I’d been out of town on business?”

      “I was supposed to call, but then I forgot and...” She was never easy with lying. She’d actually hoped he’d be out of town. “If you have plans for the holiday, you don’t have to change them on my account.”

      “I have no plans. If I did, I’d definitely change them. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”

      His expression didn’t mimic his words.

      She turned away, aware of all the leather, glass and mirrors that surrounded her. The room felt more like an impersonal waiting room in a fancy office than a home.

      “When did your mother go to England?” he asked.

      “Two weeks ago.”

      “That’s a long time to be away from home. Does that happen often?”

      “It has this year. Mom’s working on a big project.” And a new life. Which meant a new life for Effie, as well. It definitely wouldn’t be here in this condo. Not in London, either, if she got her way. Which was the real reason she was here.

      “I didn’t realize she’s away so much.”

      “It’s her job, Dad. And it’s not like I need her around every second. I have school and my friends. And I’ve been helping out at a local horse stable in exchange for riding lessons.”

      “I heard about that. Your mother emailed a picture of you in the saddle. She said you were becoming a full-fledged cowgirl.”

      “Not so much a cowgirl, but I like horseback riding.”

      “So do I, though I haven’t done much of it lately. Who stays with you when your mother is away?”

      “If she’s on a short trip, you know, less than a week, then she usually lets me stay with my friend Betts—not that I need a babysitter.” Try telling that to her mother.

      “And when it’s a long trip, like this one?” he questioned.

      “Grandma and Granddad drive down from Portland. They dropped me off at the airport before they drove home today.”

      “How are your grandparents?”

      “Grandma’s doing fine. Granddad’s having problems with his arthritis. He can’t get around as well as he used to.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that.”

      She was tempted to bring up her other grandparent now, but she decided to wait. As her mother always said, timing was everything. And she couldn’t risk any problems with her plan.

      “Are you hungry?” he asked.

      “I could eat. All they gave us on the plane was peanuts. They were selling sandwiches, but they looked as lousy as some of that stuff they pass off for food in the school cafeteria.”

      “I can order pizza. You do still like pizza, don’t you?”

      “Sure. As long as it doesn’t have weird stuff on it like asparagus or pineapple.”

      “No way. I’m talking real pizza. Pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese, the works. But first we should probably call your mother and let her know you arrived safely.”

      “I texted her when the plane landed and told her I’d made it to Dallas.”

      “You should have called me from the airport. I would have picked you up myself or sent a car for you.”

      “I called your office. They said you were in court so I took a taxi.”

      “How did you get inside the building?”

      “Easy. When the driver let me out, I dashed for the awning over the front door and just walked into the building with a woman who was fighting to close her umbrella in the wind. I figured if you weren’t here, I’d try calling your cell phone.”

      “Thankfully, I came straight home from the courthouse. I got here a few minutes before you.” He took a phone from his pocket and ordered the pizza.

      Effie looked around a bit more. There were several framed photographs sitting around of her and her dad together. Guess that meant he didn’t totally forget her when she was out of sight.

      One of the photos was of him holding her in his arms when she was a baby. At least she guessed that was her. Another was of her holding his hand, a pair of Mickey Mouse ears propped on her head, the Disneyland sign in the background. Both of those had to have been taken long before the divorce.

      The other photos included a shot of the two of them in the surf on Oahu and another with them zip-lining over a Puerto Rican rainforest. She remembered both of those trips well. Trips were okay, but she’d felt as if she were traveling with some big-shot stranger.

      “You should slip into some dry clothes,” he said. “I can throw those in the washer for you.”

      “Sure.” Stupid washing machine was probably so fancy he didn’t trust her to use it.

      “I’ll show you to the guest room. There are clean sheets on the bed and clean towels in the adjoining bathroom. There’s also a guest robe in the closet if you want to get comfortable.”

      Like they were going to spend a kick-back night together. He picked up her bags, and she followed him to a room that looked like it belonged in one of those Scottish castles they’d visited last Christmas. She couldn’t imagine throwing her jeans across the pristine white love seat or kicking out of her shoes and flopping onto a bed covered in a silk coverlet and piled down with designer-coordinated pillows.

      “Has anyone ever slept in here?” she asked.

      “No,” he admitted. “The room has never been used. Saving the christening for you.”

      “How long have you lived here?”

      “A little over a year. I was hoping I could persuade you to come here for Christmas vacation, but this is even better. It will be my best Thanksgiving in years.”

      Her father set her bags down and opened the closet. “I can get more hangers if you need them.”

      “That’s okay. I didn’t bring any dresses. My jeans and T-shirts are just fine folded.” And if things went as planned, she wouldn’t be here long enough to unpack or to spill a soft drink all over his expensive coverlet.

      He opened the top drawer in a tall chest. “When do you have to fly back to California?”

      “I have a flight for Sunday afternoon.”

      “Great. That gives us almost a full week for me to show you Dallas—unless you’d rather go somewhere else for Thanksgiving. It’s late to set up a long trip, but there are some great dude ranches within a few hours of


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