She said nothing beyond directions to get to the hotel. Halfway there her father called. “You still with that guy?” “Yes, Dad. What room are you in?” “One twelve. It’s a smoking room, but I didn’t want Ethel climbing the stairs. I don’t trust him, Alexa,” he warned, and she chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dad, neither do I.” “Oh.” She could almost hear his frown. “But I thought you liked Victoria.” “I do. One has nothing to do with the other.” “I get it. But I don’t trust her either.” “We’ll talk about it later, Dad.” “Yeah, yeah. Just get the groceries and get rid of him. I don’t wanna look at his face. Bad enough I got Little Miss Fake Wimp around.” Boy, he was irritable today. Maybe his burn was bothering him. He sounded like a lion with a sore paw. She smiled at the analogy. “I understand, Dad. See you in five.” “So what do we do?” Tars asked when she hung up. “Bring the groceries over.” “No, I mean about us.” Alexa pocketed her phone and turned to face him fully.
