The Billionaire from Her Past by Leah Ashton Read Free Book Online Page B

Melbourne instead of Perth. All the capital cities are the same to her—’ He finally registered that Mila had spoken. ‘Yes,’ he said, as if seeing his daughter for the first time in six years was something totally normal to drop obliquely into conversation. ‘Just for the night,’ he clarified, because bothering to extend his stay to visit with his daughter would never occur to him.
    â€˜Okay...’ Mila said—just to say something.
    â€˜If you want to catch up you’ll have to come to the premiere,’ he said. ‘I’m doing radio interviews tomorrow morning and then I’ll have to sleep most of the day. You know I can never sleep on a plane.’
    She didn’t. She didn’t know him at all.
    â€˜So if I can’t make it to the premiere I won’t see you?’
    â€˜No. Sorry, darling. Can’t stay this time.’
    Here it comes.
    â€˜Pre-production has already started on my next. Got to get to work!’
    It took Mila another long moment to respond. All the words she wanted to say—to spew at him—teetered on her tongue.
    There was nothing unusual about this phone call. The last-minute nature of his invitation, the way he’d somehow shifted the responsibility for them seeing each other onto her, his total lack of awareness or consideration for her own plans for the weekend. Or for her life , really.
    No, nothing unusual.
    If—somehow—Blaine got Ivy’s phone number, or April’s, and either woman allowed the conversation to continue beyond the time it took to hang up on him, Mila knew how her sisters would respond to what was hardly an invitation.
    With a no . A very clear, very definite, I’d-rather-scrub-the-toilet-than-waste-my-time-on-you no .
    They would each be furious with Mila for even considering seeing him. For even answering this phone call.
    The little tinkling sound of the doorbell drew Mila’s attention away from her father for a moment.
    It was Seb. Of course.
    He gestured that he’d wait outside, but Mila held up a hand so he’d stay. This wouldn’t take long.
    â€˜Just get Serena to email me the details,’ she said.
    â€˜So you’ll come?’
    And there it was. The reason why she had always been going to go to her father’s premiere. That slightest of suggestions that maybe her dad had been worried she’d refuse to see him. The hint that he was genuine about this—that he really did want to see his youngest daughter.
    After all, why else would he invite her?
    Ugh, she should know better.
    But she just couldn’t stop herself:
    â€˜I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Mila began, but her dad had already handed his phone back to his assistant. Such typical casual thoughtlessness made her shake her head, but smile despite herself.
    â€˜Who was that?’ Seb asked as he approached the counter.
    Behind them, Mila heard the familiar creak and bang of the workshop’s back door that heralded Sheri’s arrival.
    â€˜Dad,’ Mila said simply. She’d considered lying to Seb—broken families and deadbeat parents were certainly not de rigueur for their superficial conversations of late. But then—it was Seb .
    Even so, her lips formed a perfectly straight line as she waited for his reaction. Would he be angry that she still spoke to her Dad? The way that Ivy and April were?
    Seb knew the whole story. He’d experienced the fall-out of typical Blaine Spencer incidents, he’d listened to many Mila rants, and once—on that terrible sixteenth birthday—let her heavy tears and Gothic eyeliner soak into his T-shirt as she’d clung to him and Steph.
    So maybe she’d see pity. Pity for the woman who—at almost thirty—wasn’t all that further along in her emotional development than her sixteen-year-old self. At least, not when it came to her father.
    He’d be right to be angry, or to pity her. Or both.
    Hell. Mila