Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Now he looks startled. “You left town because I was hungover after a night with the boys?” There’s a defensive edge to his voice.
“No. Not entirely.” I try not to groan. “It was just another wake-up call, okay? I realized I’d never be able to change my ways if we were together. But I knew that if I told you I wanted to leave, you would convince me to stay.” There’s a bitter taste in my mouth, but I know it’s not Evan’s fault. It’s mine. “I can’t say no to you. We both know that.”
“And I can’t say no to you,” he says simply. He exhales a ragged breath. “You should’ve just talked to me, Gen. Hell, I would’ve gone with you. You know that.”
“Yes. I knew that too. But you’re a bad influence on me.” At his wounded look, I add, “It’s a two-way street. I was an equally bad influence on you. I was worried that if we left the Bay together, we’d just bring those bad habits to wherever we ended up. And I was done with those habits. I’m done with them now.”
Gathering my shoes, I steel myself for what comes next. After all this time away, it hasn’t gotten any easier. “You ought to think about getting your shit together too. We aren’t kids anymore, Evan. If you don’t make a change, you’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve become the thing you hate most.”
“I’m not my parents,” he grits out between clenched teeth.
“Everything’s a choice.”
I hesitate for a beat. Then I step forward and kiss him on the cheek. When his gaze softens, I step out of his reach before he can change my mind. Because I do care about him. I care about him way too fucking much.
But I can’t take responsibility for his life when I’m barely capable of running mine.
After stopping by the house to change clothes, I finally make it into work, where my dad’s waiting for me in the office. I know it’s bad when he’s sitting in Mom’s chair. Well, my chair now. Dad hardly ever comes into the office and absolutely never sits down, preferring to be out at the jobsites and meeting with clients. The man hasn’t stopped moving since the day he first went to work for his dad when he was eleven.
“Let’s talk,” he says, nodding at a chair in front of the desk. “Where’ve you been?”
“I’m sorry I’m late. I was out and overslept. Won’t happen again.”
“Uh-huh.” He sips his coffee, chair tipped back against the wall. “You know, I was sitting here waiting for you, and I got to thinking. And it occurred to me I never really disciplined you as a kid.”
Talk about an understatement. Although Dad was never the overly strict type, I probably got it the easiest, being the only daughter in a house full of boys. It’s one of the reasons we got along so well.
“And maybe I need to take some responsibility for how that turned out,” he says slowly. Pensive. “All the partying and getting in trouble … I didn’t do you any favors letting you carry on like that.”
“I’m pretty sure I would have done what I wanted either way,” I admit.
He answers with a knowing grin.
“At least this way I didn’t grow up hating you.”
“Yeah, well, teenagers are supposed to hate their parents at least a little, at some point or another.”
Maybe that’s true, but I prefer it this way, knowing the alternative. “I am trying to do better,” I tell him, hoping he can see the sincerity on my face. “This was a slip, but I promise I won’t make it a habit. I want you to know you can count on me. I understand how important it is to chip in around here right now.”
He sits forward. “We can both do better, kiddo. Truth is, you’ve been great around here. Got the place running smooth. Customers love you. Everybody’s always going on about what a charming young woman you turned out to be.”
I grin. “I clean up nice when I want to.”
“So.” Dad gets up and comes around the desk. “I’ll get out of your hair. Consider this your first official reprimand, kiddo.” He pats me on the head and strolls out.
Oddly, I think I kind of enjoyed that, talking with my father like adults. I appreciate that he respected me enough to tell me I messed up without beating me over the head about one mistake. And I’m thrilled that he thinks I’m doing well here. When I agreed to run the office, I was terrified I’d screw it up, drive the whole thing into the ground, and leave Dad bankrupt and broken. Instead, it turns out I might actually be good at this stuff.
For once, I’m not a total disaster.