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I blew out a breath. I had mentioned nothing to my father. I didn't want to disappoint him or make him think I was unhappy working for him. Truth was, it wasn’t the job, I needed out of this town. Everywhere I looked there were memories of Jessica. Those memories just added to the guilt I still carried. I avoided my father's eyes, even though I knew he would understand. "Sort of," I mumbled.

My dad sat back in his chair and looked me over. "I really count on you, you know. You've become an integral part of this company, taking on projects to free me up to scout out other ones. Are you not enjoying working for me anymore?"

That was the last thing I wanted him to think. "No, Dad, that's not it. I just think I need to get out of this town. Clear my head a bit, you know."

My father set the bills aside and took me in. "I'm sure I know this has something to do with Jessica. I get it, I do. After your mom left, I needed to get out of here too. But running from your problems doesn't fix them. Instead, I threw myself into this company and into work, and soon I forgot all about her."

"I know, Dad. You've always taught me that. I think I just need a break. Clear my head so I can look at everything with fresh eyes."

"I understand, and I guess we are coming into the slow season. Let me think about things, see if we can't come up with something. We can talk in the morning. Sound good?"

I nodded and pulled my aching, dirty body out of the chair. Talking in the morning was better than arguing about it tonight. I climbed into my car, took a bite of my cold burger, and put the car into reverse.

The next morning, I pulled into the parking lot extra early. Dad had called me late in the evening and told me he had an extra project on the other side of town and wanted me to lead. Over the past few months, he had been gradually giving me more responsibility. The project would be the first that I would not involve him in. With the plans in hand, I left the office to go over things with my crew when I heard my father's voice behind me.

"Ben, can I see you for a second?"

I turned and glanced at my father, his face long. I frowned and followed him into his office. "What is it? Something wrong?"

"Look, I debated telling you about this last night, but I wanted to think on it first. We have an opportunity tobid on a project in New York. It's a bit of a drive, and at first I was just going to go myself, but after our talk last night, I think this might be the break you need."

"New York?"

"Yeah, New York. So, basically, I will give you the opportunity to bid on this project. I want you to take this time to clear your head and come back refreshed."

"Okay, so I bid on this project, then what? Do we send a crew all the way out there if we get it?"

"If you get it, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But if it's a good enough deal then, perhaps, I'll back you so you can start your own division of the company out there. Really, son, the opportunities could be endless, and it could be the leg we've been looking for to expand Sunset Builders."

I looked at my father, who now sat there with a smile on his face. It was like a gift from the heavens, for both of us. He had been wanting to expand, and I wanted a chance to get out of here. I had gone home last night and prayed for something to come my way.

"I won't disappoint you." I nodded.

"You could never disappoint me, son. Ever. You've worked hard, and I am thrilled to be handing you this responsibility."

* * *

It had beenclose to a month since I had returned from putting the bid in on the job in New York. I had asked my father more than once if he had heard anything, but he assured me that these things took time. I'd thrown myself into the project I'd been put in charge ofand tried to accept the fact that perhaps I hadn't been aggressive enough, or too aggressive with bidding on that project and that I would have to wait for the next one to come in.

It was Friday afternoon, and I stood reading over the revised set of blueprints that had come in for the project we had been working on when my father walked in and headed straight towards his office. He slammed the door and picked up the phone on his desk.

My father's voice started getting elevated, and I feared it was about the job in New York. I knew I hadn't done a good enough job to win the bid. As my father yelled, the guys cleared the room, and I rolled up the set of prints and shoved them back into our filing system, getting ready to leave too. I was just about to walk out the door when my father's office door opened.

"There you are. Got a second?" he asked, running his hand over his beard.

"Yep."

I followed him back into his office and watched while Dad took a seat behind his desk. He looked down at a piece of paper in front of him, running his hand over his beard again. Something was wrong.

"Shut the door would yah," he gruffly asked. "And take a seat." He nodded at the chair across from where he sat.

I did as he asked, preparing for the trouble I was almost sure was coming my way. The last guy who gotcalled into my father's office and told to shut the door walked out with walking papers the next day. Would my father do that to me if I had botched this deal in New York? I prayed not.

"So, that project in New York," he began.

I closed my eyes and held my breath, "What about it?" I questioned.

"Well, I finally heard from them earlier today. I'll admit, I lied to you. Projects never take that long to get back to their contractors."

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