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“It’s been a long week already,” she said.
“Do I need to talk to Rafe?” he asked, concern immediately filling his expression. “Is he giving you too much responsibility?”
Did she need him to talk to her boss? Offuckingcourse not.
Further than that, did she want her father to talk to her boss about downsizing her responsibility? Good God, that was even worse.
“No, Dad,” she said. “I’m fine. Work is fine. I’m just busy. That’s a good thing, right?”
More studying, but after a moment, he smiled, chucked her under the chin. “That’s my baby girl, always such a hard worker.” He slung his arm around her shoulders, tugged her close to his side. “Just don’t overdo it, okay?”
“Yeah, Dad. I won’t.”
“Your mother cooked for you.”
Of course, she had.
“I told her I’d take her out after our manicures,” she said on a sigh.
A squeeze of her arm. A kiss to the top of her head. “Better that you save your money, sweetheart. That way you can invest in your business.”
“Right,” she whispered, thinking about the offers she’d received.
Offers. Yup.
Despite her wine shenanigans, she’d received three offers.
The full ask from Mrs. Jacobs.
Two partials from Ben’s associates.
She’d reviewed them, and they were currently with her attorney, but she’d been leaning toward Mrs. Jacobs’ offer, even before she’d received the paperwork. After? She was leaning even more heavily. The other two wanted a bigger slice of the pie with less upfront capital, and sure, Mrs. J wanted to get paid, and, obviously, would get a good chunk of the profits.
But not more than Teresa was willing to give away.
So…yeah, unless there was anything sneaky in the legalese, Teresa might have an investor.
She might be ready to start rolling out her app.
Which was why she wanted to be home, troubleshooting with her designer, drawing up plans for how to connect with real estate listing sites and databases.
She wanted to beworking.
Not walking into her childhood home while not even allowed to carry her own bag, and about to spend the next two hours with her mother…
Who would have much to say on the fact that Teresa was single—she’d broken the news about Sam the previous Wednesday, which had meant that she’d dealt with two hours of teary eyes, disappointed sighs, and a whole plethora of statements that began with, “You should have…”
Her mother who definitely wouldn’t be open to Teresa taking on another project—even if that project was her dream.
Because she should be done sowing her wild oats by now (and yes, for her mother, working outside the home waswild oats).
Because she should be settling down and having a wedding that used up every dollar of the fund her mother had been saving in forever.
Because she should be popping out babies left and right.
“My baby!”
Her dad squeezed her again before releasing her and dropping her purse onto the small table her mom kept in the entryway for just that purpose.
