“There absolutely should.”
“I don’t even know Victoria.”
“You know enough.”
A sharp laugh almost escapes him at that.
Enough.
As if marriage is another acquisition. Another strategic alignment between powerful families and profitable futures.
My father’s gaze hardens slightly. “You are thirty-two years old, Max. At some point, you have to stop behaving like a rebellious university student.”
“I’ve been gone for a couple of weeks.”
“You abandoned your responsibilities.”
“No,” I say quietly. “I stepped away from them, to regroup.”
My father straightens. “Do you hear yourself?”
I do. That’s the problem.
Because, for the first time, the things I’m saying sound reasonable.
A few weeks ago, I thought I was out of control, irresponsible, and reckless. That taking time for myself was a sin.
Now?
Now I’m just tired of the game.
“We built an entire life people would kill for,” my father says. “And you’re standing here defending…” He gestures vaguely toward the street. “…this.”
My jaw tightens instantly. This has been more of a home than any of the places I’ve lived over the years.
The gift shop turned café.
The apartment with the blow-up mattress.
The town, both curious about my arrival and overall welcoming.
Avery.
Penrose. It’s one word that means so many things to me now.
“That woman,” he says carefully. “Is she the reason for this?”
I look past him toward the water. “She wasn’t the reason I ran, but she’s a big reason I would stay.”
His lips tighten to a shade of white as he shakes his fist in my face. “You’re a Bauer, and Bauer’s follow through on things they commit to.”
“What have I backed out on in all the years I’ve been working for the company? I’ve put duty and honor above every want and need, making sure I took care of you and Mom. I’m allowed to do as I choose when it comes to my forever partner. And I’m allowed to live where I want. I can still run the company just as well with internet and a nearby airport.”
My father’s face goes bright red, and I know he’s eithergoing to clam up completely and leave, or he’ll explode, taking everyone near me in his wake.
Instead of focusing on his demeanor, I glance at the people around me. A group of tourists walk by carrying take-out boxes from the diner. Someone farther down the boardwalk is laughing loudly. The scent of smoke from a fire still lingers faintly in the air.
Small things.
