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Her father had suffered a major heart attack almost two years ago and the doctor had given
him a firm ultimatum: cut back on his work, or face another heart attack.
She remembered the panic-stricken rush to the emergency room and the subsequent visits to the doctor. It all brought back the horror of losing her mother fifteen years earlier, when Carson had spiraled out of control and begged her father for a bike. She challenged the boys at school to race. One thing led to another and she became an unofficial organizer for street races in the city.
But then one day a motorcycle crashed and burned. One of her racers—her friend, Mike Roberts—died. Accidents happened. Injuries happened. That was all part of the appeal. The adrenaline.
But death…
To this day she lived with the guilt that if only she had done something, said something, changed something, her friend would still be alive.
That night she’d handed the reins over to Diaz, choosing instead to channel all of her rage and self-doubt into architectural design, and never looked back.
Her father cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present. “Dad, you’re going to have to let go of the reins.”
“That may be…but I will choose the best man for the job.”
Kelly Design was a small firm with less than fifteen employees. Only one other designer had the experience to qualify for the lead designer position. Her body shuddered at the mere thought of her competition—Martin Connelly.
“I’m the one who secured the meeting with Bower. I’m the one who drew up the plans, consulted with the contracting companies. I can handle this.”
“I’ve seen you like this before, Carson. Don’t think a father forgets when his own daughter was involved in things that are less than honorable.”
Honorable? The man wouldn’t know honor if it bit him in the ass. He defined the word unscrupulous.
“I’m not involved in anything. I had a late night, that’s all.”
“You’ve had late nights all week.”
“How do you…?”
“This is how it started last time. Late nights. Longs periods of time that you refused to account for.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t have a life. I have Kelly Designs and I have you.” She thrust her arm at her father. “That’s my life. Too stressed to have fun because I always have you breathing down my neck.” She mimicked him. “Don’t be reckless, Carson. Don’t do anything stupid, Carson. I can’t take it.”
Shit! She was having a hissy fit meltdown on site where Neil could walk in at any moment and witness her pathetic display. But if her father wasn’t so infuriating, they wouldn’t have been arguing in the first place.
Her father looked from side to side when she had raised her voice. Most of the workers were outside except for a few that minded their own business. They continued on with their work, but their eyes darted from their task to where she fought with her father.
“No one’s listening dad. No one cares.”
Her father gave her a pointed look. “I’d like to be at the Bower meeting. And I think it’s best if Martin comes along as well.”
The boom of broken concrete being hauled off in the back of a truck sounded behind her. That sound—construction sounds—normally set her at ease. But not right now.
“What?” The barely register-able anger that simmered below the surface broke through. “If you want to come, I can’t stop you, but Martin? He has no business horning in on my deal.”
No matter how hard she tried to better herself, no matter how much education she’d received or how successful she’d been with her designs, she feared he would always see her as the hooligan street racer.
“I understand, but I think it’s best for everyone involved.”
“I’ve got it covered, Dad.”
“It’s not up for discussion.”
She’d learned early and often that her father would have preferred a son. Which was probably why he had latched on to Martin Connelly once he was hired. Her father had pushed her and Martin together with grand plans of matrimony and continuing the legacy of the firm. Carson had indulged her father, for a bit, but it hadn’t taken long for her to figure out Martin’s ulterior motives and she would be damned if she’d let that gold-digger oust her for the promotion.
“Whatever. I can’t stop you.”
