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“Got it.” She closed the door slowly. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
Breely closed the door and leaned her forehead against the panel. “That wasn’t awkward at all.”
Moe stepped up behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her into his embrace. “You’re his little girl. He will never stop worrying about you.”
Breely wrapped her arms around Moe’s waist. “I know. And I also know I’m not going back to the ranch. I’ve had a little taste of freedom. I’m not going to backslide into the cocoon.”
“Okay, then.” Moe kissed her forehead. “Let’s get packed up and in the air.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I told my father I liked being a waitress. I’m going to miss the people and the challenge of keeping up.”
Moe brushed his lips across hers. “You’ll be around people at the Grand Yellowstone Lodge. Maybe they can use some wait staff there.”
Her eyes brightened. “I’d like that.”
Moe handed her his cell phone and turned to shove his things into his backpack. “You need to let Stan know you won’t be coming back for a while, if at all. Consider this another adventure to add to your story.”
Breely snorted. “I worked hard to do things on my own. Yet here I am again, having to rely on others. That was not my intent nor desire.”
“Sometimes, life forces you to change directions.” He flung the backpack over his shoulder. “Ready?”
She looked around the room and shrugged. “I guess I am.”
Chapter 8
Breely left the hotel room with Moe, feeling proud of herself for standing up to her father and sticking up for herself and what she wanted.
Part of her problem was that she was a people pleaser. She didn’t like conflict and hated hurting others, which was why she’d stayed with her parents all those years. She knew how much losing her brother to cancer had devastated them—especially her mother.
Her brother had been outgoing, adventurous and loving. Breely had always thought fate was cruel to take a boy before he’d had a chance to live. He’d never been on a date, wouldn’t marry and have children and would never know what it was like to hold a grandchild on his lap.
The day her brother had died, Breely hadn’t died, but she’d let her grief and the grief her parents suffered hold her hostage. Her life had gone on hold for all those years.
Closing in on thirty, she knew she had to move on. Her parents had to let go.
As they exited the elevator into the lobby, Breely frowned. A crowd of reporters had gathered outside the glass doors, surrounding one person.
Breely cursed and grabbed Moe’s arm. “We need to find another way out of the building.”
Moe nodded. “Isn’t that your father?”
She nodded. “Someone must have recognized him and let the press know he was here.”
Moe hurried to the concierge’s desk and handed him the ticket the valet had given him the day before. “Could I have my car brought around to a side entrance?”
The man nodded. “Of course.” He motioned toward a corridor. “I’ll have him bring it to the loading dock at the rear of the building. If you follow that hallway, it’ll take you to the back entrance.”
“Thank you.” Moe took Breely’s hand and walked down the hallway to the doorway at the end. He pushed the door open, and they stepped into what appeared to be an office with a glass window overlooking a loading dock.
A woman sat behind a desk, entering data into a computer. She paused long enough to glance up and then dropped her gaze to the page of numbers she’d been working on. “Are you the couple who asked to have your car brought to the loading dock?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Moe said.
She touched a button built into her desk, and the lock clicked on the door behind her. Without taking her gaze off the page full of numbers, she tipped her head toward the door. “Stay left of the dock. You’ll find a staircase leading down with a door at the bottom. Your car will be waiting for you there.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Still holding Breely’s hand, Moe led her through the door, skirted the dock and found the stairs.
