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“The café is probably slammed with tourists,” I mutter to myself.
Shoving the phone aside, I wrap up the small article I wrote on Stone Bay, another small town near the state’s western coast. After I click save and email it to the editor, I shut down my laptop and stow it in my bag. As I clear the papers from my desk, Dad knocks on the open office door.
“Done for the day?”
With the Fourth landing on Friday this year, Dad opted to close early Thursday and all day Friday and Monday. The staff was more than enthusiastic about having a four-day weekend. Me… I look forward to time with Alessandra and Anderson. With the lack of—or super delayed—response to my texts, I can’t say she feels the same in return.
“Yeah. Just sent my story to editing.” Hands on the arms of my chair, I rise and shoulder my bag. “One less thing on my plate.”
Dad steps into my cramped office, closes the door, and sits in the guest chair.
Guess I’m not leaving yet.
“Mind if I ask you something?” He rests a foot on the opposite knee and leans back.
I drop back to my seat and shrug. “Not at all.”
His fingers toy with the lace of his black dress shoes as he sorts through his thoughts. Then irises identical to my own hold my gaze. A somberness in the lines of his face. Slight apprehension in the twitch of his eyes. An heir of uncertainty on his tongue as he rolls his lips between his teeth.
“You don’t seem yourself this week.” His fingers move to the bottom hem of his slacks. “Everything okay?”
One thing I will never do is lie to my father. As if built into our bond, we both know when the other isn’t on the up-and-up. Dad has always been honest when I ask about the past or how he feels. When I was younger, he phrased his answers differently so my adolescent mind could understand. Now, we throw all the cards on the table. Share without hesitation.
Springs squeak as I lean back in my chair and run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know.”
Thick brows tug together as his eyes assess. “What has you unsure?”
My hand falls to my lap. I tip my head back and stare at the indentations in the ceiling tiles. Take a deep breath, then another as I count to ten and collect my thoughts. When I reach ten, eyes still on the ceiling, I blurt out, “I told her I love her.”
“And?” Dad asks, voice edged with concern.
I level my gaze and exhale a shuddering breath. “And she has been more distant since I opened my mouth.”
At this, Dad straightens in his seat and drops his foot to the floor. “Give her time, son. Love is a big step for anyone. We both know love is scary as hell, but maybe the experience is different for her. From what you’ve told me, neither of you was the relationship type beforehand.” He leans forward and rests his forearms on the desk. “Maybe there’s a reason she’s so guarded. A reason she isn’t ready to share yet.”
Alessandra and I haven’t shared deeper details of our previous relationships. Did someone break her heart too? She’d said her busy workload is why she never did relationships but was there more to it than that? What about before she owned the coffee shop? What held her back then?
“Maybe,” I concede.
Dad raps the desk with his knuckles then stands. “Just give her time and the space to be who she is. I gather there’s more to it than she’s sharing.”
I rise from my chair and follow Dad out. “Thanks.” I hook an arm over his shoulder and hug him close. “You always say the right things.”
A devious smile tugs up the corners of his mouth. “Storing that line for the future. Just in case.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, old man. Have a great weekend.” I kiss his cheek. “Tell Gretchen and Shawn hi from me and I love them.”
“Will do.” He pats my shoulder. “Love you, Braydon.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
CHAPTER35
ALESSANDRA
“This cannot be happening.”
The days surrounding events in Lake Lavender are always busy. Always. This week has been no exception. Well, from a visual standpoint, it hasn’t. From a business stance, though, I have more of an idea why sales are down while the café is packed.
