Luca Chessman has been longing for love his entire life. The only problem is-he can't seem to find a guy that likes him the same way.
With his family cafe, Chessman's, struggling to keep afloat and no help from the bank, he's slowly accepting the d...
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I don't know why I turn up at my father's office after he asks to see me.
I don't want to see him. But I'm more intrigued with what he has to say.
We both know I don't come for his company or to catch up. I'm still latching onto his deal of allowing me to take my grandmother's things if I manage to create profits from a new business. It's obvious he didn't like my idea to help out at the cafe but it's not his choice, it's mine. He always tries to find a way to meddle.
When I knock on his office door, I contemplate barging in. He won't appreciate that.
A part of me wishes I didn't even come. Why do I run when he calls?
I hate myself for it every damn day.
As I hear a light murmur behind the door, I press down on the handle and step inside. My father stands behind his desk, phone at his ear. He takes one glance my way and says nothing, no expression of happiness whatsoever.
The feeling is most definitely mutual.
I shut the door behind me and walk towards his desk, taking a seat in front of him and making myself at home. He watches my every step and I can't help but flash him a sarcastic smile as he hums through the phone.
"Alright, I'll speak to you about this later." He says sharply.
The next second his phone is down and he clears his throat. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity and I shake my head slowly. "You wanted to see me?" My tone dips with boredom.
He narrows his eyes at me. "How pleasant, your old man isn't even worth your time."
"I'm busy, father. I've got things to do, rather than being called in at the middle of the day. There is such a thing as a phone, you know? Which I realise you know how to use, taken you were just on one." I say a lot harsher than normal.
I really didn't expect my mood to dip this low being in his presence.
The last time I saw him, he annoyed me more than words can describe. Now I can only imagine what else he has to say, that is so important for a meeting.
"How professional, Declan." He flashes me a scowl of disapproval before taking a seat at his desk.
I sigh and draw my ankle onto my opposite knee. "What did you wish to discuss?"
"I wanted to ask how the cafe business is going," he says, leaning back in his chair rather leisurely. "But since you decided to be assy, maybe I don't want to know."
My eyes roll on their own accord. I'm tired of his silly games. "The cafe is doing great, actually." I state.
His eyes widen with shock. "Oh, really? That's a surprise."
