Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Satisfied when my Dad shakes his head silently.
“Excellent,” Michael clips. “And another thing, Vanessa does belong to me now and the Hart Construction family. So how about you stop acting like a dick and come upstairs. We can put some ice on that hand of yours. Talk things through.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Can’t believe what just happened.
But Michael’s voice and body are calm. He’s in complete control of the situation and his emotions.
“I just don’t know why you’d lie to me like that, Vanessa,” my Dad finally sniffs, pleading for me to go with him one last time. To just go home and forget all this ever happened.
But I think we all know it’s too late for that.
“I was gonna tell you, Dad, I was,” I tell him.
“It’s just…,” I start but Michael’s hand squeezes mine, and I can feel him moving toward the waiting elevator.
“We can talk upstairs,” he reminds me. Knowing we’ll have to go through all this again with Jase too.
“The good times and the bad, remember?” Michael murmurs, leaning down as he says it so only I can hear, and I feel myself nod. Knowing he’s right.
“I wanted to meet with you anyway, Mr. Campbell,” Michael tells my Dad, who sees now he has no real choice other than to be with us or on his own.
“That so?” he growls, getting some movement back in his injured hand.
“Vanessa’s told me some great things about you,” Michael says cheerfully. As if he’s totally forgotten everything that just happened. Put it behind him. Like a real man does.
By the time the elevator pings open and we’re on his office’s floor, my Dad’s a changed man. The mention of a job interview with Hart Construction has piqued more than just a casual interest.
“But I just…I just knocked the living daylights out of you,” my Dad protests, drawing a quizzical look from Michael and making me groan aloud.
Jesus, Dad….
“Could you wait here?” Michael asks him, then turns to me. “Both of you? I just need to talk with my son for a minute.”
Michael leans down to kiss me, and I can sense my Dad cringing at the sight, but he’s gonna have to get used to it.
If it didn’t happen this morning, it was bound to happen sooner or later. And I’m not ashamed or afraid to be with Michael. Not wanting to keep it from anyone anymore. Not ever.
“Sure,” I answer him, telling Michael I’ll go help get my Dad cleaned up and put some ice on that hand.
“Thanks,” Michael tells me, crimping his lips as his hand leaves mine.
But I feel better knowing everything’s out in the open now—kind of.
One down, one to go…
I wonder how Jase is gonna take it?
I find the office kitchen, and like most places, it has a well-stocked first aid kit. But I think Dad’s pride and feelings are hurt more than his hand.
“Owww!” he cries out when I dab at his cuts with some ointment, wrap some ice from the freezer in a washrag, and tell him to hold it there.
We both take a seat in silence at a table nearby, the whole office seeming to sense something’s gone down, but if Michael Hart’s at the center of it, they know well enough to leave him to work it out.
Although, it wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together if anyone had been paying much attention.
“I thought you would’ve left by now,” I finally tell my Dad, trying to forgive myself for not being upfront with him. But also trying to forgive him for making a complete fool of himself in front of Michael.
“You might not believe me, Vanessa,” he says, looking at me with clear eyes and calmer now. “But I’ve had one woman I love walk away from me, the day your mom left. So there’s no way I’m gonna lose you too,” he says. Making my lower lip tremble with emotion, I forgive him instantly, realizing that he’s just doing what Dads do.
Wanting to protect his only daughter from something he doesn’t fully understand yet.
“Oh, Dad,” I sob, hugging him. “I’d never walk out on you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be more honest…it’s just, with Michael…,” I start to explain.
“I can see how things are with you and Michael,” he says, keeping his anger in check. “But I can also see a man who knows what he wants. And my girl who wants the same thing. I’d be a bigger idiot if I really tried to get in the way of that.”
No argument from me there, and Dad holds his swollen hand as I hug him.
We both tell each other things we should’ve done more often.
The biggest one is that I’m not a kid anymore, and I was always going to have to go out on my own at some point.