Dean glanced inside the office. “Are you sure you don’t want to take Grace to lunch instead?”
“Grace just got here. I’m sure she won’t have time for lunch today.”
My fingers rapped across the keyboard as I logged on.
“I’ll see you at one then,” Dean replied before sticking his head inside my office. “Have a good morning, Grace.”
My hand lifted in response as I busied myself with checking email. I had a new case come in last night that I needed to dig into, but the aura surrounding my father was capable of rendering me witless.
Dad closed the door behind him, appraising my office in much the same way he’d scrutinized me. As though it were lacking. He strode over to one of the bookcases. “I need you at the Highlands Country Club tonight by seven.”
My fingers stopped typing. He showed up out of nowhere. At my office. And was throwing out orders for where and when to be? There were so many responses I could have gone with, but I led with a civil one since it was still early in the joyous reunion.
“If you’re looking for a golf or tennis partner, I can point you in the direction of a dozen different people in the office who would actually provide you with a challenge.”
“That’s not the reason I want you there.” He frowned when he came to the frame displaying my law degree. He’d gone to one of the best schools in the country; I’d gone to a decent one in the general Seattle vicinity since I had been newly married and had a one-year-old at home.
“Are you going to tell me why you want me there? Or keep having me guess?” I asked, pulling up my daily schedule.
“It has to do with a project I’m working on. Something I’d like your insight on.” He must have guessed my coming objection. “I’ve already talked to Stan about it and he’s given his blessing. I’m not hiring you as an advisor—I’m merely utilizing my daughter’s knowledge.”
My attention drifted from my computer to him. He was still frowning at my degree. “You cleared this mystery project with my boss before talking to me? Nice, Dad.”
“What? Are you going to say no?”
“Depends on what it is. My plate’s a little full at the moment.” I motioned at the files spread across my desk, but if I was looking for sympathy, I was speaking to the wrong person. In his prime, he probably could have handled twice the caseload in half the hours, all while managing to keep his insides pickled with a steady flow of his favorite bourbon.
“This won’t eat into much of your precious time, I promise. Besides, you have a vested interest.”
My hand rolled. “A vested interest in what?”
His thick, silver eyebrows lifted.
“Oh, god. You’re running for mayor, aren’t you?” My stomach turned in on itself. “This is some kind of announcement where you circle the wagons and give everyone a list of what to wear and what to say and how to smile, right?”
He chuckled. “I have no plans of running for mayor of this city. Yet.”
“Then what is this about? I’m not showing up just because you say so.” I eyed my phone, willing it to ring. Anyone. Anything. A damn telemarketer would have been a picnic by comparison.
“Just show up, find out what I have planned, and if you’re not interested, you can walk out with no argument from me.”
As I finished scanning my schedule, I perked up. “I can’t tonight. Andee’s Humanities class is giving some kind of presentation at the school. I told her I’d be there.”
Of course, she’d assured me she didn’t give a crap if I was there or not, but I wasn’t eager to admit to my father yet another of my shortcomings. Motherhood, my seemingly worst subject.
He stood beside the chair across from me, but didn’t take a seat. “This is more important than some school function. I never attended any of your school things because I was busy getting things done.” His arm lifted in my direction. “You turned out fine.”
“The very picture of fine,” I muttered.
He picked up this year’s school picture of Andee propped on my desk. A lot had changed from her school photo last year, as the look on Dad’s face could attest to. “And let’s not kid ourselves that you’re in the running for mother of the year here, Gracey girl.” He turned the picture toward me, almost as if he could read the contempt for me in Andee’s eyes.
I pasted on a smile. “I already won the daughter of the year award, and one person can’t win both titles. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Your fondness for the theatrical hasn’t changed.” He set the photo back in its place.
“Neither has your mastery of belittling subordinates.”
A sigh followed. “Thirty minutes. Give me thirty minutes and then decide.” For the first time that morning, he made eye contact. “Please?”
In all my memories of my father, I could only recall a few instances of his use of that word, and never directed at me. It took a minute for the surprise to wear off enough to answer.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
With a terse nod, he turned to leave. “Seven o’clock sharp,” he repeated, failing to accept my ambiguous committal.
Even as I added the new event to my calendar in the color-coded box that meant tentative, I knew I’d be there. My dad never came to me for anything, least of all for any skills I possessed. I was more than a little eager to prove to him I’d earned my place in this office with my own skill and merit.
Before I forgot, I fired off a quick text to Noah to see if he could possibly swing by the school tonight to see Andee’s class presentation. He must have been between patients because his reply arrived quicker than usual.
No. Sorry.
That was it. No explanation. No excuses.
Classic Noah.
Punching in another text to Andee to let her know something had come up at work and I wouldn’t be able to make it tonight after all, I reread the message half a dozen times before sending it. I couldn’t bring myself to tally up the number of things I’d had to cancel with her this school year alone, and even though she swore up and down she didn’t care if my presence was made, I cared. At least some part of me did that still clung to the hope my fate as a mother wasn’t already sealed.
I opened the file containing the details of my next case. Something inside me deflated when I read the charges. A stepfather who’d been abusing his two teenage stepdaughters for years, the mom turning a blind eye to it all. If I had to guess at the number of similar cases I’d tried in my career, I’d estimate closer to one hundred than fifty. A quick scan of the file led me to the initial conclusion that this would probably be settled outside of court. The accused would serve a few years for his crimes, despite the two young girls serving a life sentence in a different kind of prison.
Hopeless wasn’t a sensation I was used to giving myself over to, but today it took me before I knew it was coming.
My phone pinged beside the file. A new message from Andee.
Big surprise was all it read.
The rest of the day was a blur of phone calls, meetings, and interviews. It was a skip lunch kind of day; most were. The next time I checked my phone, the time read quarter to seven.
After jotting my signature on the documents Connor had dropped off for me to sign, I grabbed my things and flew out of the office. My father disliked many things, but tardiness rose to the top of the pile.