Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Liar, I want to type, but once again, I settle for saying nothing at all.
Chapter Five
Sofia
Hours later, I’m at my father’s house, a two-story, picturesque, white home with a wraparound porch where I’d grown up. As is often the case with our cherished dinner meetups, we’ve ordered from our favorite Italian place and moved from takeout containers to plates, our little way of pretending we’re the fancy chefs. We sip from wine glasses, and my father tells me a few of his new jokes. It’s a tradition that he starts every one of these meals with a series of bad jokes until he finds one that makes me laugh. The most jokes on record thus far to get to my bursting point is seven. We’re only on two so far.
“An Aggie walks into a bar,” he begins.
I throw up my hands. “No, please. Not the Aggie jokes. Just because you went to the University of Texas does not mean everyone else thinks Texas A&M Aggie jokes are funny. Try again.”
It’s on his sixth joke that I finally laugh, but only because it’s something about a banana and a light switch that is so stupid, the idea that it came out of his mouth does me in. How can this smart man speak such silliness? The answer is simply that he’s a dad’s dad. He’s my dad, and I know I have to tell him about Ethan. Secrets are like lies, hidden to avoid a truth. I don’t like secrets or lies. Once I’ve wiped my tears from laughing so hard and he’s refilled our glasses, conversation finds its way to a more serious topic.
“Tell me all about New York,” my father urges, pride etched in the warmth of his voice.
Unbidden, there’s an image of me naked and on Ethan’s bed popping into my mind, and I all but choke on my wine. Guilt’s a brutal beast, and he’s playing with me now. I clear my throat and set my glass down. “I told you the important parts.”
“You did not tell me the important parts, or you wouldn’t be hesitating to dash off on a dream trip to Paris. And you’re not. Why?”
I set Ethan aside, at least for now, and focus on the logic I’ve found outside my temporary infatuation with him. “Anything too good to be true is, right? I asked for a week to have legal counsel review the details. I sent it over to Nick. The attorney. Our attorney. Ironically the guy I’m dealing with at Moore’s is Nick as well. It’s weird and I hope that’s not the universe telling me something.”
“Stop that. Of course, it’s not. People share names. And calling Nick, the attorney, is a smart thought process. Is there anything in particular worrying you?”
“Aside from the too-good-to-be-true premise, I don’t know enough to know what could go wrong. The way gotcha clauses tend to be buried in contracts worries me.”
“All good points. When will you have his feedback?”
“He said he’d look it over in the next few days.”
“And if he approves the agreement, you’re going to Paris.” It’s not a question, but he’s looking at me as if he’s waiting for confirmation.
“It’s all very exciting.”
“You’re not sure you’re going, are you?”
“I’m going, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about leaving you. You said your business is struggling.
“Struggles are part of living. And living is what your mother would want me to do. It’s what she’d want you to do. Please do not use her death and my life after her death as a way to excuse your fear. Because that’s what I’m sensing in you. Fear. A new country, a new way of approaching your career—it’s all big and bold—and that’s scary, but it’s also a damn good thing.”
“I know,” I assure him, self-aware enough to know that if this opportunity is really about my skill, my vision, and what I can do for Moore’s brand, then having sex with Ethan is irrelevant. The truth here is that my dad doesn’t know that I saw a therapist after losing Mom, and a need to hang on too tightly to him was front and center. I need to be careful that I’m not going down that path again. He's a grown man. He doesn’t need his daughter holding his hand.
“Do your due diligence and then say yes,” he adds, pressing me in the exact direction I need to be pushed.
“I’m going to say yes,” I confirm. “I am. I’m just a little nervous right now and, yes, afraid. I’m afraid of the unknown, of a new place, of failing. I am all of those things, but I won’t let any of them hold me back.”
“That’s what I want to hear,” he says, and while I know now might be a good time to tell him about Ethan and even the money I’m to receive upfront, I also know him, and I can feel how negative his reaction would be to either of those things right now. Maybe, just maybe, my need to tell him about a fling that means nothing is also me self-sabotaging, and it won’t help him, or me, for him to hate the source of the money when I do decide it’s the right time to give it to him.