Dad’s eyes cut to Jordan, sharp as blades swiping through the air. “You’re right. I have no say. But don’t think I’m not going to watch you like a hawk. If you hurt her…”
“I understand. You love her, too. But I want you to know that I’d rather stab myself in the eye than hurt your daughter.”
“Dad, please. Please let us give this a chance.”
“So I assume he’s giving you your recommendation to business school?”
I looked over at Jordan again. “I’ve been having second thoughts about business school. Remember how I was telling you that I love studying theory?”
His forehead creased with a frown. “You’re going to study theoretical economics? And what the hell are you going to do with that?”
“I don’t know…maybe work as a consultant—like on a game. Or develop new models, or teach.”
Dad’s phone chimed and he checked it. “We can talk more about this later. I’m not opposed to that idea, as long as you are sure that’s what you want to do.” He stood and took us both in again. Those nervous jitters were back in full force. I didn’t need Dad’s approval—but I really, really wanted it.
He rubbed his jaw and sighed. “I’m going to be honest and tell you that I don’t have a good feeling about this—especially considering how things started. But you’re a woman. You’re my beautiful daughter and I’m proud of you, and I really hope that I’m wrong about him.”
Well…that was as good as it was going to get, I guessed. I stood and hooked my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, then kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.”
He patted my back, eyes widening in surprise. “Love you, April. Please…just be careful, okay? That’s all I ask.”
I pulled back and looked him in the face, nodding. “I will. If he hurts me, you can fire him and kick him out on the street.”
He laughed, but at the edge of my vision, I caught Jordan fidgeting. To let him off the hook, I sent him a sly smile and he narrowed his eyes at me before returning the smile. Dad turned to go when Jordan stepped forward, putting out his hand for a handshake.
Dad waved him off. “I’m not quite ready for that yet. Give me a few. I’m an old man. But…” I almost busted out laughing when he pointed two fingers toward his eyes and then turned to point them at Jordan in the universal symbol of ‘I’ve got my eyes on you.’
“See you soon, sweetheart.” Then he turned and left.
Jordan expelled a long breath, and I suddenly realized how nervous he must have been. He’d hidden it well. “Shit, that was rough,” he said.
“Were you expecting a picnic?”
He shook his head and approached me, holding out his arms. I slipped into them and he pulled me against him, kissing my cheek. “Thanks for speaking up for me,” he said. “I was this close to bailing when he started playing hardball.”
I pulled back to give him a dirty look and saw he was smiling, clearly teasing me. “Well… I guess it was worth it.” A slow smile crept across my face.
His arm around my waist tightened. “How about I make it worth your while? I don’t have to be back to work ‘til tomorrow, so we have a whole day to burn, my naughty fairytale princess…”
I grinned. “What was it Snow White kept singing about? Someday my prince will come…”
His mouth twisted. “Someday? Your prince plans on coming tonight—more than once.” I burst out laughing and he waggled his eyebrows. “Just so you know, I’m in this for the win. And I can be pretty goddamn stubborn when I set my mind to something…so no bailing, no balking, no running away.”
“Hmm. But inappropriate behavior, that’s okay?”
He grinned. “Fuck yeah. It’s required.”
Chapter 31
William
I hate being in the warehouse. Every sound echoes and bounces off the floor, the walls, the high ceiling. It’s not a bad place, but everything here is strong. The lights are brighter, the sounds are louder, the smells—I really don’t like the smells—are oily and plastic. Synthetic and overpowering.
But I find that if I breathe through my mouth slowly, it helps. So I stand at the back of the crowd and fold my arms tightly over my chest. When I start to feel agitated, I tense them suddenly. The pressure helps keep me calm. Just like clenching my jaw helps or squeezing my eyes so tightly I can see spots behind them.
These are tricks I’ve taught myself to deal with the loud, strong, brightness of places like this. It’s either that or my sketchpad, and I left that on my desk because I had no warning about this meeting.