Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“You do? That’s nice. With the acorns and stuff?”
“Yeah, I like to have a wreath on the door, even though we’re in an apartment building. And inside, on the table, there’s a centerpiece of mini pumpkins and faux leaves.”
“You like interior décor? Doing stuff like that for fun?”
I sigh. “I suppose I do.” I’ve been having some ideas for the hotel lobby that I think will elevate the area. Louis took away the fresh flower arrangements. I want to bring them back, but in a modern, creative way that’s more cost effective than having huge numbers of fresh flowers delivered twice a week. I’m thinking I’ll pair planted orchids with fresh flowers on the table, then put air plants on the reception desk in striking glass containers so they’re a talking point for guests. At the moment the lobby looks bleak. I think we can do better.
“Looks like you get on well with your boss,” he says.
I hope the heat in my cheeks doesn’t show. “He’s a good guy.” There’s no point telling him about the engagement. It will make things more awkward for him when he meets Leo next. He needs to see him as a potential boss, not a future son-in-law. “He took a chance, giving me the job managing The Mayfair.”
“Hopefully he’ll do the same for me.”
I smile and I hope it looks genuine. “So where are you staying? With a friend or—”
“Oh just here and there,” he replies. “For some reason I thought your mom worked at The Mayfair.”
“She did. Are you staying in Manhattan?” I ask again. I’m not sure the change of subject was deliberate, but either way, I want to know where he’s staying.
“Yeah, don’t you worry about me,” he says, patting my hand.
I’m not worried exactly. I just… want to know. So far we’ve talked about me, but I don’t know what my dad’s being doing with his life since he walked out all those years ago. The way he’s dodging my questions is starting to feel deliberate.
“What made you move back here?” I ask. “Did you lose your job?” I don’t even know if he got married again. Maybe he’s had more children.
“Just haven’t seen New York in a while,” he says with a simple shrug. There’s not even a rushed addendum about how he’s missed me—how a reunion was overdue.
I can feel myself begin to deflate. The little bit of hope that had lodged itself in my heart is working free.
Maybe he sees it in my gaze, because the next thing he says is not what I expect.
“I know we’ve got a lot to catch up on,” he says. “And I want to do that. I want to hear all your news. I want to know about every job, boyfriend, dream you ever had. I’m going to listen to it all. I’ve missed out on so much… I’d like to get up to speed if you’ll let me.”
He reaches for my hand and I let him take it across the table. That sliver of hope settles back in my heart. He does want to know me. I’m rushing everything, but we have time.
The alarm on my phone bleeps.
“We should leave for your meeting with Leo,” I say.
“You’re coming too?”
I shake my head. “No, but his office is on my way. I can drop you off.”
“Great,” he says, slapping his thighs and standing. “Let’s go.”
Outside, he scoops up my hand and tucks it under his arm. We walk arm in arm, heading north on Madison. He starts pointing to buildings and telling me snippets of history about them or which movies were filmed there. This is the Dad I remember from when I was a kid—the interesting Dad whose every word I clung to. The Dad who knew everything.
“Here we are,” I say, stopping outside Leo’s building.
“Already?” he asks. “I was just getting started with my tour.” He grins at me and I smile.
“I have the annual pass,” I say. “So we can pick up where we left off next time. Are you around over the weekend?”
He nods. “Should be. Got a couple of meetings but apart from that…”
This time I initiate our hug. It’s a little less awkward than it was before. Maybe I’m less stiff. Less nervous. “Good luck,” I say. “Leo’s a good guy.”
Maybe I was too quick to ask Leo not to give him a job. Maybe he deserves a shot.
“Thanks, kid.” He gives me a wink, turns, and pushes through the revolving door to Leo’s office.
I stand and watch as he heads to the reception desk.
Maybe I was wrong about my dad. What if he’s changed? Parenthood is tough and it’s possible he just couldn’t cope with me when I was a child. But it’s different now. He’s got his life. I’ve got mine. I don’t need him for anything. He’s got nothing to run from.