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“I’m tired, dad.” I swipe a towel over a plate before I place it back in the cupboard above the sink. “I’ve been at the office late almost every night for weeks.”
He picks up the last of the dirty dishes and carries them to where I’m standing. “You might have a case of the winter blues.”
I know his tried and true remedy for that. “I’ve got a full caseload right now, so California is out of the question.”
He huffs out a low laugh. “You read my mind. Do you remember how we used to head there for a week right after Christmas?”
I remember everything about those trips. We’d take off the day after Christmas. My three brothers would sit in one row of seats on the airplane, while I sat between my parents in the row behind them.
It was our only family vacation each year. We made the most of those seven days and as soon as we landed back in New York, we’d start counting the days until the next one.
The trips were a family tradition until I started college and my folks traded the sunny beaches of California for Florida’s gulf coast and a week with their friends who had retired there.
“How could I forget?” I kiss his cheek. He’s still as handsome as the day I met him. He sports a few more wrinkles now and his brown hair is an appealing mix of salt and pepper. The big difference that I see when I look at him now is sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Maybe next December we can go back?”
Tipping his chin up, he looks at the open cupboard, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular. I know he’s lost in thought. “I’ll start planning it next month.”
He will. He lives for the moments that he spends with my brothers and I. We’ve all encouraged him to get out and meet new people, but he always says that he knows everyone he needs to. I don’t push because if he’s content in the small world he lives in, I’m content too.
“You barely spoke to your brothers during dinner,” he says quietly. “Granted, it’s hard to get a word in when those three are around, but still, you’re not yourself.”
He’s right. I’m not. I listened to my brother, Luke, share the details about a fire he responded to last week. He loves working as a fireman and every time I see him, he has another tale of heroism to share. Those stories are never about him, although he has risked his life on numerous occasions to help others.
Nash is just as talkative. Today, he went on about a campaign he landed. He started his own advertising business seven years ago when he was twenty-five and it’s steadily growing. He’s the middle son, but the soft gray at his temples makes him look older than Rocco, even though he’s two years younger.
I clutch the towel in my fist as I make a small confession. “I met someone, dad. I like him, but…”
“But, what?” His gaze narrows, his brown eyes rich with concern.
I can’t exactly tell my father that I hooked up with a random at my friend’s wedding. My dad is strictly old school. He practically went on my first date with me.
His recollection of that night is different than mine, but I distinctly remember him being in the movie theatre while I sat next to my date eating popcorn. I may have only been fourteen, but having your dad tag along to watch every move of the boy you like is a sure way to end the date early.
“What did this man do, Chloe? Tell me.”
“He didn’t do anything.” I twist the towel in my hands. “I thought I’d see him again. That hasn’t happened yet. We hit it off, but maybe I felt a spark that he didn’t.”
“That’s impossible,” he blurts out. “You’re everything any man could ever want.”
Spoken like a father who loves his only daughter.
“It doesn’t matter either way.” I busy myself with washing another plate. “I like my life the way it is. I don’t need a man.”
His hand dives into the warm sudsy water to cover mine. “We all need someone who cares for us. If he’s not that guy, you’ll find him. I promise you that the man you’re meant to spend your life with is out there looking for you right now.”
That might be true, but the man I’d like to spend at least a few more hours with knows exactly where to find me every morning at eight sharp. That man is obviously not looking for me.
Chapter 9
Evan
I was tempted to turn off my phone when I finally got into bed well past midnight. Yesterday was a bitch, and even though I wasn’t on call overnight, I fell asleep with the fear that I’d end up back at the hospital before dawn broke.
That didn’t happen.
I got a few hours of much-needed sleep, shaved and took a shower. Then I dressed in jeans, a gray sweater and my black wool coat. I left my apartment in plenty of time to get to the Roasting Point on Lexington by eight.
It’s now eight-fifteen and Jane is nowhere to be found.
