He looks genuinely offended now. “What’s a matter? You can’t make small talk with your old man anymore?”
I cock an eyebrow, not falling for the guilt-trip.
“Fine,” he says, glancing at the bartender as if he’s hoping someone will come and save him by taking our drink order. “We need to talk about your boss.”
“I knew it.”
He holds up a hand. “Relax, mija. This is not what you think it is.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm my fight-or-flight response. “What do I think it is?”
He purses his lips. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know you think I brought you here to yell at you for getting involved with your boss.”
“His name is Ethan,” I reply, sounding as bored as I possibly can while also refusing to deny his accusation.
And suddenly, I truly don’t care if it was Warner or Andy or Emilio or Edward who told my dad about Ethan and me. I’m tired of sneaking around like a naughty teenager.
He sits up straighter, his face hardening as he realizes I’m not going to apologize the way I usually do.
The server arrives with some ice water, and my father and I both spout off our drink and lunch orders without hesitation. She seems to pick up on our urgency and, without further ado, quickly sets off to put in our orders.
My father stares at the glossy surface of the dining table for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I’m not here to tell you what to do with your life,” he begins. “You’re an adult.”
“You just noticed?”
His mouth is pressed into a hard line as he glares at me. “Can I have a moment to speak without you interrupting me?”
“I didn’t interrupt you.”
Anger flashes across his features, and I’m reminded of how I saw that expression every time I was caught cutting class in high school.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. But when you’re done, I have some stuff I need to get off my chest, too.”
He nods. “Okay, okay,” he says, as if he can already anticipate having to listen to me telling him how much I care about Ethan.
The server delivers our drinks, and we sip in silence for a minute before my father continues the conversation.
“You have to understand that when you hurt, I hurt,” he begins, and the pain in his eyes is undeniable. “Watching you suffer after what happened with Edward was like feeling the…the pain I felt when I lost the restaurant.”
The server arrives with a basket of naan and my father flashes her a warm smile.
“I don’t like to admit when I’ve made a mistake,” he continues, pushing through despite his obvious discomfort with expressing this level of vulnerability. “I’m supposed to be strong for you and your mom. I’m not supposed to risk my family’s security with bad business deals. I’m not supposed to let something like losing my restaurant get me down. But I did. I did both of those things.
“And when you couldn’t find a job, I saw the same hurt in your eyes. You were suffering. You thought you might have to give up on your dream the way I gave up on mine. Seeing you suffering, and not being able to help you by giving you a job at the restaurant… Mija, you have no idea how that filled me with so much shame.”
I swallow the hard lump of emotion lodged in my throat. “I guess I never thought of what me losing my job looked like from your perspective… But that doesn’t really explain why you didn’t want me to get involved with Ethan.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Are you kidding me? They’re twins,” he says, emphasizing the last word. “I wanted you to have a job. But I didn’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“But Ethan isn’t—”
He holds up a hand to stop me. “Think of it this way. If I told you I was going into the restaurant business with Paulo’s twin brother, after what happened with Paulo, would you warn me not to do it?”
If he told me he was going into business with Paulo’s theoretical twin brother, I’d do whatever it took to not have to see him suffer like that again.
“Okay, I get it,” I admit reluctantly. “But it’s different this time, Dad. Ethan and Edward are complete opposites. Ethan isn’t going to hurt me.”
He shakes his head. “You have no way of knowing that.”
“You had no way of knowing if Mom was going to hurt you when you started dating back in the 1800s.”
He rolls his eyes. “But I didn’t have anyone to warn me about your mom.”
My eyes widen at the unintended implication.
“You know what I mean. You got your warning from Edward. Ethan and Edward can’t be that different from each other. Like your grandma used to say: Si ladra como un perro…”
This is one of my grandma’s favorite sayings, which translates to: If it barks like a dog. The implied ending to that sentence being: it is a dog.
I tilt my head as I glare at him. “You’re seriously trying to tell me you haven’t noticed a difference between Ethan and Edward in all your business dealings? You’re telling me you let Ethan hire me despite the fact you think he’s exactly like Edward?”
He flashes me an uncomfortable smile now. “Okay, I admit I see some differences.”
I cock an eyebrow as I cross my arms over my chest.
He takes a sip from his glass of water then shrugs. “Okay, fine. He’s nothing like Edward.”
I flash my dad a smug grin as I uncross my arms and reach for a piece of naan.
“But that doesn’t mean you can be so careless about this,” he continues. “It isn’t just your feelings that can get hurt, Alice. This is your career.”
I nod as I hand him a piece of naan from the basket. “That’s nice, Dad, but I don’t want to be careful,” I say, inhaling the garlicky aroma of the bread. “Being careful is something you do during job interviews and African safaris. It’s not something you do with love.”
He chuckles, though somewhat reluctantly, at the bastardization of one of my mom’s favorite sayings.
Reaching across the table, he grabs my hand and looks into my eyes. “Fine. But promise me you’ll twist his huevos into a bow if he hurts you,” he says with a wink.
I shake my head in dismay as I realize it was my mom who told my dad about Ethan, not Edward or any of my coworkers at Forked.
I was naïve to think my mom could keep a secret from her husband. And I’ve been beyond foolish to think hiding the internship from Ethan will somehow make my need to make a decision go away. Secrets are not meant to be kept from the ones we love.
“I love Ethan.” It takes me a moment to realize I’ve said these words aloud. “Oh, my God.”
The expression on my father’s face is equal parts panic and curiosity.
I set my piece of bread back in the basket and squeeze his hand. “I have to go, Dad. But you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ve got this. Okay?”
His mouth spreads into a tentative smile as he nods. “You always had it. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
As I step out of aRoqa restaurant, I pull my phone out of my pocket, and I’m surprised to see a text message from a number that looks oddly familiar. But the message preview reveals the sender is someone whose number I deleted from my contacts not so long ago. Someone I have no desire to speak to.