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“Thanks.”
He holds out a hand. “Good luck.”
I shock us both by pulling him into a hug. “I’m proud of you,” I tell Crew after we step apart. “For standing up to Dad. Doing your own thing. Lili and baby number two are lucky to have you as a father.”
Crew nods and looks down, the angles of his face harsh with emotion. For the first time, I realize my opinion might matter to him. It hasn’t felt like he looked up to me for anything since we were little kids.
“I’ll see you later,” I tell him, then leave his office and head for the elevators.
My foot taps impatiently as I wait for one to arrive and again, as it descends at what feels like an impossibly slow pace.
Crew’s right, I decide, watching the numbers slowly tick down. I don’t want Hannah to leave without knowing exactly where I stand. The alternative is losing her for certain, and I know I’ll regret that.
Once I’m back in the car driving toward my building, I pull my phone out of my pocket. And my stomach sinks when I see I have a missed call and a voicemail from Hannah.
Heart in my throat, I tap on her name and lift the phone to my ear.
“Hi. I’m sorry to do this over the phone, but I wanted to say goodbye. I—my sister called, and April went into labor. There are complications with the delivery. I don’t know all the details. But the airline was able to switch me to an earlier flight, so I’m on my way to the airport now. I woke up, and you were gone, so I just…. I hope everything is all right. And if you just needed space, well, I get that. Thanks for…thanks. I’ll sign whatever you send me. So…goodbye, Oliver.”
Dammit, I think.
And then I dial the number for Kensington Consolidated’s private pilot.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
HANNAH
My dad is waiting next to the baggage claim with a dorky handwritten sign that readsFavorite (Middle) Child.
I smile, shedding some of the exhaustion and stress as his arms wrap around me. A barrage of texts was waiting when my plane landed, letting me know that April and Eddie now have a son named Ezra and that both baby and mom are happy and healthy.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Grandpa.”
He laughs. “That title will take a little getting used to.”
“Everything is really okay?”
“Yep. Just a scare. He’s a cute little thing, all wide eyes and tiny toes. Reminds me of when you were little, not extending work trips to spend time with a husband.”
I cleared my trip extension with his assistant since I don’t have a direct supervisor. And I should have known it would take less than a minute for him to mention my longer stay in New York.
“We’re still getting divorced, Dad.” I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes as we walk out the automatic doors into the sunshine. It’s at least ten degrees warmer than when I left New York.
My dad says nothing, which is worse than a lecture.
I’m a coward who left New York without telling Oliver how I feel about him. And I feel the echo of that weakness in each second of silence. In the fact none of the texts waiting when I landed were from him.
My dad is a rule-follower, so we trek across the hot asphalt to the parking lot where he left his car. I fill him in on the meetings with Tyler as we walk, even knowing he’s already received reports. This is the part of my job I’ll really miss, if I do leave Garner Sports Agency. Sharing it with my dad.
“I met with Logan Cassidy again last week,” he says, once we’re in the car zooming along the palm-tree lined road, the scenery so different from New York’s concrete jungle.
“How did it go?”
“Good. I think there’s a good chance he’ll sign with us.”
“That’s good.” I fiddle with the hem of my t-shirt. “I got into architecture school, Dad.”
