Her shoulders dropped. “Fine. I often checked email and got texts at night or on the weekends.”
Almost always when she had a day off, and forget about an actual vacation.
“You tell me what is better, working a little longer and then knowing once you were gone it was your time, or feeling as if you were on call twenty-four seven.”
“I’m not sure it’s much different.”
“Maybe not in your eyes. It works for you. Do you think I don’t know I’ve got a reputation for being a hard ass?”
She let out a laugh before she could stop herself. “I’m sure you have it and are fully aware of it. You might even enjoy that.”
Her father cracked a brief grin. “I have my moments. I understand that not everyone wants to work long days. Maybe they’d rather finish up in the comfort of their house. But I know what it’s like to go home and never turn it off. That’s what I offer my assistants. Put longer days in and leave without the pressure, or always have to stop and do something. Blair is on call nonstop, so remember that.”
“I highly doubt she works around the clock.”
She’d asked that question. Even asked why Blair was leaving and heard that Ethan was bending over backwards to not lose her and give her any flexibility she wanted.
That didn’t scream controlling boss to her.
“Ethan works a lot and if he needs something, he’s come to rely on the fact Blair will give it to him.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” Not that she was even considering it, but her father wasn’t painting Ethan in a favorable light.
“I’m telling you the expectations of working in a bigger city. You’re not going to get a job where you punch a clock and leave and it’s done until your next shift.”
“What gave you the impression I thought that?”
“It’s the reason you keep changing jobs. You’re looking for something better. Right?”
There he was assuming the worst.
“No. I’m looking for what makes me happy. What gives me the drive to actuallywantto put more into it. To get up each day and prove I have what it takes. Life’s too short to burn out grinding over something you hate. It’s not about getting up, busting your butt, going home hating every minute, then doingit all again. There has to be some joy in it. Some happiness built in.”
“There you go again, being soft and idealistic. I blame your mother for that. She let you think the world works that way, and it’s why you’re still barely treading water at twenty-nine.”
The waiter set down their plates, and Nora stabbed her fork into the lettuce before she said something she couldn’t take back.
Before she screamed at him to just stop.
Stop breaking her down.
Stop twisting every spark she had into something small and foolish.
Maybe try just once to plump her up.
No, not that word.Plump.
That was the word he’d always used when he wanted her to lose weight as a kid. The “gentle” word. The one that cut the deepest.
There was no winning here.
There never had been.
And she didn’t know why she still kept trying.
There was no way they could sit here in silence.
When she finished chewing, she set her fork down and looked him dead in the eye.
