"Dad…"
"Hm?"
"Did you read my book? Please don't read my book," Angela said, her heart drumming in her chest as they exited the restaurant and waited at the sidewalk for the car to arrive.
Her father laughed, slapping his thigh in amusement. She didn't find it funny, but apparently, her father did. All she could think about were the hot and steamy scenes in her books that his daughter shouldn't know about. She didn't want her father thinking she enjoyed all those things. That's just awkward.
Charlie didn't answer, the smile on his face so wide as he waved goodbye and got into the backseat of his Town Car.
"Dad!" She stomped her foot like a child, annoyed at her father's slyness, wanting to die in embarrassment at the thought of him reading her books. He didn't say no, but he didn't say yes either. Her father could just be teasing her, but she could only ask him again next time—that is if she would even be brave enough to ask again.
