Perfect Strangers (Serendipity’s Finest #4) Read Online Carly Phillips

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Serendipity's Finest Series by Carly Phillips
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Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
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She took a deep breath and stepped inside anyway. “I’d appreciate it if you made the time. It’s important.” She shut the door behind her, not planning on leaving until she’d had her say.

With a resigned sigh, he put his pen down and gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

She opted to remain standing, needing all the leverage and power she could muster.

“Well? I don’t have all day.”

She clenched and unclenched her fists. “Are you happy?” she asked her father.

He blinked, then looked at her with a frown creasing his forehead. “Excuse me?”

She’d thought long and hard about how to approach him and what she wanted to say. This was rehearsed, and she knew it. “I asked if you’re happy. In your life? Your job?”

“Alexa, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for philosophical conversations.”

“Well, I’ll say it again. I’d appreciate it if you made the time. This is important to me.”

Hands on his desk, he met her gaze. “Fine. I don’t think about happiness.”

Her heart seized at the admission she’d expected. What she hadn’t anticipated was how much the knowledge hurt. “Did you ever? Think about it, I mean.” To hell with power. She lowered herself into the chair, needing support. “When you were younger? When you met Mom? When you fell in love?”

That last question was a stretch. Alexa had no idea if her parents had ever been in love. Or not. She didn’t remember them interacting, and her father never spoke about it.

His scowl deepened. “What’s going on with you?”

She drew a deep breath. “I’m taking a leave of absence.” She said the words slowly and deliberately, not rushing through them the way she was tempted to do.

The only way he’d take her seriously was if she sounded firm, didn’t back down, and stood her ground. All things Aaron Collins respected. Unless it involved going against his directives or wishes.

“Okay, now I know you’re sick. What the hell do you mean you’re taking a leave?” He leaned forward in his seat, talking at her like she was an employee, not his only child.

“In the past couple of days, I’ve had time to think about what I want out of life and—” She pulled in a deep breath. “This isn’t it. I don’t want to be a paper pusher for this hospital. I don’t want to follow in your footsteps. I want to create my own path.”

“You want to create your own path,” he mimicked her. “Don’t tell me. This has to do with that football player,” he said in disgust.

“You know he plays football?” she said the first thing that came to mind.

“The nurses couldn’t stop whispering about it. I thought you’d be above that sort of thing. At the very least, I thought you’d get that little rebellion out of your system and return to work fully focused.”

She blew into her hands in an attempt to calm down. “Well, you thought wrong. And that little rebellion you mentioned? It’s been a long time coming. These past few days may have shown me what it’s like to really live and enjoy life and be happy, but the discontent began long before and has been brewing for years.”

“Alexa, not many people have the opportunities you’ve had,” her father said too slowly and patiently as if he were talking to a misbehaving child. “Not many people have the avenues available to them that you do.”

She held up a hand. “Stop right there. I’m grateful for each and every one, but did you ever think that maybe I don’t want the same things you did?”

“And what is it you think you want?”

There it was again, that patronizing tone. She knew then that he’d never get it; he’d never understand. Her stomach hurt because he was her father, but he wasn’t her daddy. He’d never been. “I know that I want to enjoy my job. My days. I’m not naive. Life isn’t always easy or fun, but I want to wake up in the morning knowing that, at the very least, I’m doing something of my choosing. Not yours.”

His hands bunched in frustration, his knuckles turning white. “That’s not gratitude. That’s disrespect.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I beg to differ. I did everything you ever asked or wanted. I tried things your way. Now I’m going on my own.”

His face turned red, his cheeks flushed, and he vibrated with anger. “I raised you.”

“Which is what you do when you have children. What you don’t do is direct and manipulate them into being what you want, envision, or need. I love you, Dad. But I have to live my own life.”

“Are you giving up medicine?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I just want the time to figure out what kind of medicine I want to be in.” She wondered if she should add this and then decided she’d come this far, so she might as well go all the way. “I also need to figure out where I want to practice it.” Hospital, private practice, more pro bono work at the youth center. Alexa didn’t know, but she wanted to figure it out.



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