Intern For My Best Friend's Dad: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance, Flora Ferrari [best ereader for academics .txt] 📗

“Everything’s going to be okay, Sophia,” he says. “I promise.”

“How can you say that?” I murmur. “You don’t know.”

“I do,” he says firmly. “It has to be.”

He walks over to the counter and exchanges a few words with the barista.

I study the window, and my heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my mouth when I spot Caitlin walking toward the entrance.

She’s bobbing her head to a song, her purple earphones trailing down to her pin-covered bag. She looks so happy, so carefree, so freaking Caitlin.

How can I do this to her?

But I can’t walk away from what Solomon and I have.

She takes out her headphones as she walks through the door, glances over at Solomon before her eyes settle on me. She walks over, brushing some of her hair from her face.

“I didn’t know Dad was going to be here, too,” she smiles. “Or is this just some crazy coincidence?”

“No,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry. “It’s not a coincidence.”

She narrows her eyes, sitting down and reaching across the table. She places her hand atop mine the same way she’s done a dozen times before—no, hundreds, maybe even thousands. Countless times throughout my life, she’s been there for me, and now I’ve done this to her.

I blink and feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Are you okay?” she murmurs, giving my hand a squeeze. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? Did something happen at work?”

Of course, she’d think it has something to do with work. It’s the only thing that makes sense in this context, with her father standing at the counter, collecting my coffee. He’s ordered hot cocoa for Caitlin, which has always been her favorite, even in the summer.

I find it hard to believe that something as paltry as a hot drink is going to make this all better, though.

“No, yes, sort of,” I sigh. “It’s—”

Suddenly, the door bursts open. It’s such a sudden movement – the metal door handle smashing against the opposite wall – everybody in the café turns toward the noise.

My chest goes tight and rage flairs through me when I see Kenny, Caitlin’s stalker ex, walk into the café. His long black hair falls across his face, his hands twitching at his side. Three men swagger in behind him, each of them at least six and a half feet tall. They wear black suits and sunglasses.

They look like hired bodyguards.

No, thugs.

“How the hell did Kenny afford bodyguards?” I murmur.

“He’s dealing now,” Caitlin sighs. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No, Caitlin,” I snap. “You did not tell me that you’re psycho ex had started dealing drugs.”

I take a breath, calming myself.

“It doesn’t matter. Your security will be here soon, right?”

She frowns over at me, her eyes shimmering.

“You slipped your security, didn’t you?”

When we were growing up, Caitlin got quite good at sneaking away from her father’s security team. She only manages this because part of their agreement is that they have to trail her from a distance, or she won’t let them follow her at all. She hasn’t done it in years, though.

“Freaking hell,” I sigh. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” she cries, throwing her hands up. “I didn’t want them hounding me all the time.”

I don’t know what to do.

Kenny is walking over to us, his fists twitching in a way I don’t like. The men behind him seem to get bigger and bigger the closer they get until it’s like they’re eight feet tall.

I know my fear is messing with my head, but I can’t stop more terror from spiking through my stomach, twisting, and torturing me.

And then anger replaces the fear, urging me to my feet.

I bolt up and point my finger at him, every part of me shaking with rage, fueled by what Solomon and I did on the boat – what we’re going to have to tell Caitlin – as much as this man, this asshole.

Vignettes flood my mind, a million scenes of Caitlin crying and panicking and hating herself, and all because of this jerk-off.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I snap. “You’ve got no right following her, you sick weirdo. You’ve got no right being anywhere near her.”

Solomon steps between us, causing Kenny to pause.

More fear spreads its gnarled hands inside of me when I see that Kenny’s goons are even taller and wider than Solomon, and there are three of them.

This is really freaking bad.

“Time to go,” Solomon snarls.

His body is still as if he’s gathering all his primal energy, getting ready to release it.

“Time to go?” Kenny laughs, sounding deranged like he’s on something. I wouldn’t put it past him. “Now where do you get off telling me where I can and can’t go, eh?”

“You’re pathetic,” I snap, flaring rage forcing the words from between my lips.

“Shut up, you fat bitch,” Kenny snarls.

Solomon takes a step forward.

“Apologize,” he says flatly.

“Or what?”

Solomon’s hands curl into fists. A vein pulsing in his neck.

“Or I’ll make you apologize. You’ve got no right talking to my woman like that, you junkie fuck. So you apologize or say goodbye to your teeth.”

“Your woman?” Kenny says and then lets out a hyena-like cackle.

Caitlin’s gaze flits to me and to her dad, her eyes wide in question. All I can do is shake my head and fight the tears that try to stream down my cheeks, that try to erupt and morph my rage into something else.

“What is he talking about?” Caitlin murmurs. “Dad, what’re you talking about?”

“I …” Solomon sighs. “I’ll explain once this junkie motherfucker has said he’s sorry and left peacefully.”

“Just go, Kenny,” Caitlin snaps. “We went on a few dates. It didn’t work out. That’s life. There’s something wrong with you, just leave me alone.”

“Something wrong with me?” he yells, laughing again in that unhinged way. “I’m not the one whose best friend is fucking her dad.”

Caitlin looks at me again, a plea in her eyes. I can’t tell if the shimmering tears are because Kenny’s here or because of what she’s just learned.

In all the