AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Is that why you fly a lot?”
I nodded. “When we acquire a company, I have to be on location for a while, or at least visit their out-of-state facilities. I’ve seen my share of hotel rooms.”
She honed right in on my issue. “But you want to run your own show.”
“Wouldn’t you?”London or bustwas my motto. The plan had always been to give me control of our European operations. I’d move to London and be independent, finally have myown show, as she put it, to run before I took over at Benson.
She nodded. “Of course. Do you think it’ll happen soon?”
“He’s promised it—even written it down and signed it, all in a pretty blue folder.” I shook my head, remembering the latest conversation.Laterhad turned out to be Dad’s go-to word. He hadn’t broken his promise because it had always been vague.
“Soon?” she asked again.
I chose honesty over optimism. “When I prove I’m ready.”
“Is that why you were reading that book?”
I laughed. “And a half dozen others.”
She got it, the need to work for acceptance that seemed to come with a family-run company.
She shrugged. “Fathers can be tough, but they mean well.”
Nodding, I added, “Mine has decided to rewrite the definition oftough.”
She offered her hand.
I took it, and she squeezed. “I’ve found it helps to not focus on it.”
“That’s what my mother says.” Mom had a dozen sayings along that line.
The car came to a stop. “We’re here,” the driver announced as he put it in park.
I unbuckled and climbed out.
She did as well before I could reach the other side.
“A lady waits for the gentleman to open the door for her,” I scolded.
“And who says I’m a lady?”
I rolled my eyes. “Are we really going to end today with an argument?” I moved to the sidewalk.
“Sorry.” She followed, fumbling in her bag for keys.
I followed her to the large, old Victorian and up the stairs to the porch in the dim illumination provided by the streetlights. The house had seen better days, but was still a beauty of a home, from a time when craftsmanship mattered.
A dog barked on the other side of the door.
“Quiet, Echo,” she said. The dog didn’t bark again.
Then things got awkward. “I’ll call you,” I told her.
“When I get a phone,” she reminded me.
“I can be patient. Your cousin comes first, phone second.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
