Free A Family Affair: The Wish: Truth in Lies, Book 9 by Mary Campisi

put a stop to it and forced him to share in what she called “frown-makers,” too. So what was it that had her daddy looking so jittery? She didn’t think she wanted to know, not if it was more pestering her about Chicago and all she learned there. Huh. If she told him the truth, the frowny-face would cement itself in place and he might boot her from the company, or at least from this office. One mistake was not going to land her in a secretary chair, even if the mistake was a whopper like Adam No-Last-Name.
    “Your mother doesn’t want me poking around here, and I promised I wouldn’t pull up a chair and camp out.” The jaw rubbing grew more intense, the frown deepened. “But I worry about you, and I worry about what this business is doing to you.”
    “Daddy—”
    “Hold on.” He held up a beefy hand, gave her one of his listen-to-me looks. “Let me have my say. Lord knows we can’t get you to sit still long enough to have a conversation, especially one you don’t want to hear.”
    She fidgeted in the big chair, wished she had a chocolate éclair right about now to take her mind off the sermon that was coming. If her father knew her current state of agitation had nothing to do with business and everything to do with her bad behavior in Chicago, well, what would he say to that? Bree folded her hands in her lap, sat poker-straight like she’d seen her daddy do in board meetings, and nodded. “Proceed.”
    “Proceed, huh?” He leaned forward in the chair that squished his sides and said, “Your mother and I think you need a break.”
    “A break?” A break from what?
    He sighed, his gaze darting around the room, settling on her seconds before he gave her the blast. “From work. We think it’s too much for you.” He gestured toward her, blew out another sigh. “Up until that trip to Chicago, you looked like a ragamuffin—hair as big and messy as a rat’s nest, no makeup, wrinkled clothing. At least you spruced up for the trip, but now look at you. Back to a ragamuffin with your hair and such. It’s sad to watch. You’ve got no life outside of the kids. No friends anymore either and I know they’ve all been calling you, know you’ve ignored them, too. Didn’t even congratulate Gina on her pregnancy. That girl’s having baby number two and you couldn’t do her a kindness with a phone call?” His eyes teared up, his voice cracked. “Where’s my baby girl? Did you fall in the grave with that bastard husband of yours? Your mama and I thought getting out of town and away from bad memories might help you remember you’re still a young woman with plenty of life to live.” He cleared his throat and his voice got thicker. “But you came back worse than when you left, more withdrawn and agitated, and looking like you just rolled out of bed and don’t care who knows it.”
    Bree kept her expression blank. She would not let her father see he’d hit on a few truths. Okay, she’d been horrible about staying in touch with her friends, but who wanted to walk into bursts of sunshine and get so sunburned you’d blister? Gina, Tess, and Christine had found their happiness in the sunshine of their men, in the happily-ever-after-until-I-draw-my-last-breath and that was not something Bree could watch. That pain tore her insides out, scorched them like they were dunked in hot oil. And yes, she’d been a bit behind in her personal care and maybe she’d forgotten to shower a time or two, but at least the men didn’t come sniffing around. Well, a few still did, but they’d go after a skunk. Look what had happened when she’d taken the time to fix her hair, dab a bit of foundation and blush on her face, lip gloss on her mouth, and put on a clean outfit? Adam No-Name had sniffed her out, but truth be told, he hadn’t been the only one sniffing. Oh, gracious, what a mess. Was she doomed to step out of one predicament and right into another, as if she were dodging cow patties in the middle of a field, knowing