Chapter 78
**Tom**
I strolled across the perfectly manicured grass of the country club, squinting against the bright morning sun. My father, Richard, was easy to spot - his signature red polo shirt stood out like a beacon among the sea of pastels favored by the other golfers.
As I approached, he lined up a putt on the 9th green. I waited until he'd finished his stroke before calling out, "Morning, Dad."
He looked up, surprised. "Thomas! Didn't expect to see you here." He gestured to his caddy, who obediently handed him a towel. "What brings you out to the links on this fine day?"
"Just thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."
Dad's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Uh-huh. And it has nothing to do with that blind date I set you up on?"
I should've known he'd cut right to the chase. "Well, now that you mention it..."
"So?" He leaned on his putter, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Did you meet her? How'd it go?"
"I did meet her, yes," I admitted, choosing my words carefully.
"And?" Dad pressed, impatient. "Did you like her? Are you going to see her again?"
I hesitated, torn between honesty and the desire to please my father. "She was... nice," I said finally. "But I don't think she's quite my type."
"Not your type? What's wrong with her? Too short? Too tall? Bad teeth?"
"Nothing like that, Dad. She's perfectly lovely. Just not for me."
He sighed dramatically as if I'd personally offended him. "Well, what exactly is your type then? Maybe I can find someone else who fits the bill."
"I'm not sure I have a specific type," I hedged. "It's more of a... feeling, I guess."
"A feeling? Christ, Thomas, you sound like one of those romance novels your mother's always reading. Next, you'll be telling me you're waiting for your soulmate."
"No, nothing quite so dramatic. I just... I'll know it when I find it, okay?"
Dad scoffed. "Know it when you find it? For Christ's sake, Thomas, you met the girl and didn't even stick around for an hour. How are you supposed to know anything at that time? What, did you take one look and decide she wasn't Miss Universe?"
"It wasn't like that-"
"Then what was it like? Are you some kind of speed dater now? Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am?"
"Dad, please-"
"No, no, I get it. You're too good for anyone I pick out. Excuse me for trying to help my son have a social life."
"Look, I appreciate the effort, I really do. It's just-"
"Just what?" Dad interrupted, his voice rising. "You're not marrying her, for Pete's sake. It's just a date. But no, you can't even manage that. Meanwhile, your brother Leonardo's in a stable relationship, taking over the family business - everything you should be doing."
I bristled at the comparison. "Leo and I are different people, Dad. We want different things."
"Oh yeah? And what exactly do you want, Thomas? 'Cause from where I'm standing, you don't want anything. No girlfriend, no interest in the business. Everything's just too complicated for you, isn't it?"
His words stung more than I cared to admit. "It's not like that," I muttered, but even to my ears, it sounded weak.
Dad's expression softened slightly. "Is there something going on, son? Something you're not telling me?"
For a brief moment, I considered spilling everything - my conflicted feelings about Sara, the mess I'd made at the university, my uncertainty about my future. But looking at Dad's expectant face, I couldn't disappoint him further.
"No," I lied. "Everything's fine."
Dad eyed me skeptically, clearly not buying it. But instead of pressing further, he surprised me by clapping me on the shoulder. "Well, in that case, I've got just the thing to perk you up."
"Oh?" I asked warily.
"Yep. I'm gonna find you the perfect girl. Right now."
I blinked. "What, like... right this second?"
"No time like the present!" He grinned, pulling out his phone. "Let's see... how about Veronica? She's a knockout, and her father owns that big tech company downtown."
"Dad, really, you don't have to-"
"Nonsense! It's no trouble at all. You just leave everything to me. I'll set it all up, and you can go out tonight and have some fun."
I frowned. "What exactly do you mean by 'fun'?"
Dad winked at me. "Come on, son. You know what I mean. You're a grown man, after all."
My face flushed. "Jesus, Dad. I'm not going on a date just to... you know."
"Why not? Nothing wrong with a little casual fun between consenting adults."
"I'm not interested in going on a date at all," I protested. "Especially not one you've set up."
But Dad was already typing away on his phone, ignoring my objections. "There! All set. I'll text you the details later, but you plan on going out this evening."
"This evening?" My stomach dropped as I remembered my plans with Sara. "Dad, I can't. I've already got-"
"Whatever it is, cancel it," he said firmly. "This is important, Thomas. You need to start putting yourself out there more."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the determined look in his eye made me hesitate. As much as I wanted to see Sara, the thought of disappointing my father yet again made my chest tighten uncomfortably.
"Fine," I said reluctantly. "I'll go."
Dad beamed, clapping me on the back. "That's my boy! Trust me, you'll have a great time. Who knows? Maybe this'll be the one!"
I forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as strained as it felt. "Sure, Dad. Can't wait."
As I walked away from the golf course, my mind raced. How the hell was I going to explain this to Sara? We'd made plans, for Christ's sake. Plans that involved a lot less clothing and a lot more... well, you get the idea.
I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over Sara's name in my contacts. What was I supposed to say? "Sorry, can't make our sexy rendezvous tonight. My daddy set me up on a blind date." Yeah, that'd go over well.
With a groan, I shoved the phone back into my pocket. I'd figure it out later. Right now, I needed a drink.
The country club bar was mercifully empty when I slunk in. I slid onto a stool, signaling the bartender.
"Scotch. Neat. Make it a double."
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Rough morning?"
"You have no idea," I muttered.
As he poured my drink, my phone buzzed. A text from Dad:
"Date set for 7 PM at Green Royal Restaurant. Wear that blue suit I got you for Christmas. And for God's sake, don't be late!"
I knocked back half the scotch in one gulp, wincing as it burned its way down my throat. This was going to be a disaster.
When I got home, I had a pounding headache and a growing dread. I flopped onto my couch, staring at my phone. I had to call Sara and cancel our plans. But every time I reached for the phone, I imagined her disappointed face filled with hurt.
"Fuck," I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face.
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