“Bet you can’t guess what they painted my year.”
“Hockey stick? You scoring with your parents weeping in the stands?”
“You’d think, right?” My girl is catering to my ego. Will wonders never cease? “Actually, it was a football jersey with Jordan Jamison’s name and number. He took us to State.”
She pulls a pout. “Enderson sure loves their football.”
“Got that right.”
I fold one arm behind my head and draw Harlow in with the other so she’s tucked into my side, her hand flat over my heart.
It feels good.
“How about you? What did you put in your square?”
“‘If you want something, work for it. If you don’t get it, work harder.’ One of those unknown-origin quotes off the internet, but I had it taped into my locker for about six years.”
She peers at me, the softest smile on her lips. “That’s so you. I love it.”
I hold her tighter.
After another minute, she takes a deep breath. Bracing. And I know she’s ready to talk.
“I wasn’t trying to hide who I was from you. It’s just… I didn’t think it would come up. Most people don’t know his name. And I guess I didn’t want to have to answer all the usual questions. I didn’t want to tell you what it’s like working for him or whether he’s proud to have me following in his footsteps.”
That quiet admission kills me. Makes me struggle to keep my hold loose and my breath even. She doesn’t need to be trying to calm my ass down.
“Your dad’s the one you… don’t have a good relationship with? The one you want to prove yourself to.”
“It wasn’t easy telling you that stuff.” She buries her face in my side and gives another small laugh, this one missing any trace of humor at all. “But it was way easier without you knowing who he was to me.”
“Hey, come on, Harlow,” I urge gently. “Don’t hide.”
“It’s so embarrassing. Wade, everyone knows what happened. I’ve been working at corporate in one capacity or another since I was sixteen, and I’ve never let on about the issues with my father. Until this, no one knew. And now… everyone does.”
There’s nothing I can say to ease that sting. Dave’s show of support this afternoon probably only served to underscore that greater hurt. The one that’s less about the job and more about her colleagues witnessing the lack of respect her own father showed her. There’s nothing to make it better. But I tell her anyway. “I’m so sorry. I wish you didn’t have to go through that.” Then, “Did something happen between you and your dad?”
Chapter 20
Wade
“It’s going to sound so melodramatic, but so far as I can tell, my first affront was being born.”
“What?”
“He only married my mother because he had to. He didn’t know much about her, from what I understand, and they didn’t spend much time together before she was killed. And after, he—” She sits up and shrugs. “He traveled, and with the hours he worked, he mostly stayed in the city, so I didn’t see a lot of him.”
I’m afraid to ask. “Who took care of you?”
“Nannies, mostly. But later”—she smiles, meeting my eyes—“teachers.”
The kind of people who dedicate their careers to providing approval for a job well done. I’ve got a new understanding of why Harlow is so driven to excel. And it breaks my damn heart.
“How did you end up working at the bank?” Maybe her father saw it as a way to relate to her, at least initially.
“Ignorance?” She bites her lip. “Defiance? I’d been waiting to turn sixteen, thinking once I was old enough to work, I’d be able to get a job there. The bank was so important to him, you know? It was everything. So I asked him about it, and he told me there wasn’t a position.”
Fucking bastard.
“Our bank. One of the largest in the United States. But nothing available. I was at the top of my class. You’d think I’d have understood. He didn’t want me. But then, I had sixteen years of practice ignoring the obvious.”
I think about the way Harlow smiles when my mom pulls her in for a hug or how hard she laughed when my dad tried to show her how to throw a football, and it kills me to think that she never had that. That she was following after this man, practically pleading for his affection. And from the looks of it, she’s never gotten it.
But I want to know the rest. I want to understand her. “So how’d you end up working there?”
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rests her cheek on her knees to look at me. “I figured if there wasn’t anything available, I’d make sure my name was on the list. I went to my father’s building and gave my name at the front desk, asking if there was anyone in HR I could speak to about filling out an application.”
“They recognized your name.”
A nod. “Next thing I knew, one of David’s predecessors was skittering out of the elevator to escort me upstairs so I could fill out an application. They probably thought it was adorable. I’m sure they had no idea that finding me that first position might have put their own jobs at risk.”
All she needed was a way in. So smart and driven. There would have been no stopping her. “How’d he take it when you told him the good news?”
“He just stared at me for a minute. Annoyed. But then he said, ‘Fine. Don’t expect any special treatment. You won’t get it.’”
“Nice guy.” I shake my head. “Is he like that with your brother?”
“Oh, no way. Junior’s the family he always wanted. He loves him. Loved Sandy—that’s Junior’s mother.” Then raising a brow at me, I see a glint of humor in her eyes. “She left him.”
Serves the guy right. “Yeah?”
“For Gordon LeMere.”
I choke, eyes bugging wide. “The hockey player?” The guy was at the peak of his career in the early nineties, but he retired before I laced up my first pair of skates.
And then it clicks.
“Holy shit, Good Girl. You were really, really pissed when he gave that job to your brother.”
This time the laugh she gives up is pure Harlow. I reach for her and, pulling her into my lap, kiss the shriek off her lips. “So you’ve been using me this whole time, huh? Revenge is best served on a hockey stick?”
And now I get why she’d been so sure her father wouldn’t like me. Why seats to my game weren’t going to get her anywhere.
“I wasn’t planning to serve it at all. Knowing how much he’d hate it was enough.” Her arms link around my neck. “It was supposed to be a quiet, understated rebellion.”
“And then you woke up with a hangover from hell.”
“And you fast-talked me into coming with you anyway.” Her fingers sift into my hair. “Thank you, Wade.”
With Harlow in my arms like this, peering up at me with those big soulful sweet eyes, I’m the one who’s thankful. But not to her douche father, even if he’s the reason she said yes.