Dear Mr. Pessimist {Completed}

~9~ Who Got Your Knickers In A Twist?

The ride back to my house was filled with Tristan constantly cracking jokes about college and bakery puns that had me laughing a little more then I should of.

"How about that for a great Friday night!" He said, parking the car in front of my house. I smiled, grabbing my stuff from the floor with a nod.

"I had a great time tonight, Tristan. It turned out a lot better than I thought." He snickered at my response.

"At least someone had fun tonight." He looked over at me, a smirk on his face, "I mean, at the party. I had fun too, once I was able to get out of that hellhole." I nearly tripped on the curb when I climbed out, sending warmth through my cheeks immediately.

"Nice." Tristan commented, trying to hold back his laugh. I almost laughed myself, but it dried up in my throat when I saw a familiar black limo pull up behind Tristan's beat up Ford Fusion.

"You okay, Syd? You look like you're about to pass out." He reached for the handle on his door, ready to get out. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, waving my hand slightly.

"I'm fine, Tristan. Thanks for tonight." I started to back away, but he had started to climb out of his car anyway, his eyes narrowed.

"Sydney, are you sure you're okay?" He looked about ready to go on, but finally caught sight of the limo behind his car, his eyes widening.

"Syd!" I winced at the voice, my arms crossing over my chest. Tristan shook his head in confusion as the sharp dressed man walked over to us, a man looking like he was related to Arnold Schwarzenegger a few feet behind him.

"Daddy." I said, not moving from where I stood beside Tristan.

"What are you doing out here at this hour? Is your mot-"

"She's out on a date." I lied, knowing very well she was probably watching us through the blinds.

"And you? What are you doing out so late?" He asked, then let his eyes drift from me to Tristan who looked just as curious and confused as my dad did.

"Am I interrupting something?" He questioned, glancing back and forth between Tristan and me. I started nodding, wanting my dad to just turn around and leave. I mean, he was really good at it.

I barely remember him being around when I was really young, I only had faint memories of him pushing me on a swing or playing a carnival game with me at the fair. He had been around quite a bit during my early teen years, but it had always been to try and convince me to come live with him.

Sometime when my mom was pregnant, my dad had gotten my grandfather's law firm. Not only had he inherited millions of dollars, but he had bought out several other smaller companies that built up his empire. He had cheated on her more than once, and eventually Mom had gotten tired of his shit and kicked him out, shunning out his family as well as all of the money he offered for child support.

"I better go." Tristan said, but I grabbed his arm before he could completely duck out of the conversation.

"Don't." I whispered, ignoring the strange look I was getting from my dad, "You said you'd help me send in applications, remember?" I gave Tristan a pointed look, earning a nod out of him once he realize what I was saying.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" I mumbled, turning my attention back to him.

"Sweetie, my secretary just quit. I wanted to know if you wanted to fill the spot and possibly move u-"

"I don't want to work for you, Dad." I cut him off, tugging at my hair nervously, "I thought we already went through this." I watched him rub his hand together as if it were freezing outside instead of it being abnormally hot.