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She thought maybe he was upset with her. If she hadn’t appeared on the call, they wouldn’t have gotten “caught.” But when she asked him if that was the case, he tucked a hair behind her ear, cupped her face, and said that he wasn’t angry. Not at all. And she’d believed him.
Until now. Because, if he really wasn’t upset with her for losing his job, why hadn’t he called like he’d said he would? After all, it had been forty-eight hours since he’d dropped her off, and the only communication between them had been a text confirming he’d gotten her email with the flower shop business plan like he’d asked for.
Her cell buzzed to life with a text message.
Ben: Hey, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. It’s for a good reason. I promise. Can you meet me at the corner of Forbes and Fifth Ave?
Forbes and Fifth Ave? Why there? And why should she go? He was ghosting her again, wasn’t he? She didn’t owe him anything. Except maybe a talking to. That was the one regret she’d had all those years ago. She’d never had the chance to tell him how much that had hurt her. How selfish he was to just leave like that with no explanation. Well, she was older now. More mature. And more fired up.
She had an entire speech in her head as she approached the corner. But when a man turned around, all her words disappeared.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
The older gentleman stood with his arms out, and only then did Mia realize where they were standing—in front of the building she dreamed would be her flower shop. A dream that came to a halt for many reasons, the greatest being the sold banner over the For Sale sign.
“Can’t a man stop in town to see his daughter? And maybe give her a long, overdue apology?”
“What are you talking about?”
He walked toward her, his wingtip shoes scuffing along the sidewalk. Even though it was the weekend, her father still dressed as though he could head into work at any second. Because he often did. “I underestimated you. And your potential.”
Mia shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. You’re the one who pushed me to go to an Ivy League school.”
“I did, because I thought I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From yourself.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “You had these wild dreams, and I just didn’t want you to end up like your mom—with all these passions and ideas and little of the preparation to make them take off. Every time one of her ideas flopped, it broke her heart. I guess I was just trying to protect yours.”
“By keeping me from doing something I loved?”
“Yes. But I was so wrong. You have the same spirit and drive as your mom, but after seeing your business plan for this place, you’re clearly prepared.”
Mia shook her head. “You saw my business plan? How?”
“Someone who cares for you a whole heck of a lot sent it over to me.” She knew right away who’d done it. The only person she’d ever shown it to. But where was he, and why had he summoned her to stand among the ashes of the dream that had withered and died? “Look, I know you have no reason to listen to me now, but I think you should take the leap.” He nodded toward the building as he walked away.
“It’s too late now,” she whispered, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk.
“What if it’s not?” a gravelly voice came from behind her, and the hairs on her arms immediately stood at attention.
She turned and took him in, looking better than any man had a right to, in his casual clothes she couldn’t get enough of. “By the looks of it, it is.” She pointed to the sign in the window.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long, but I’m hoping it’s not too late … for a few things.”
“Like what?” She hoped he was referring to the status of their—what could she even call it? A relationship? Whatever it was, her hands trembled with the energy her body couldn’t totally contain.
“I told you I was going to take more risks.” A broad smile split his face from ear to ear as he turned toward the storefront. “Although, I guess it’s not really a risk if I can guarantee its success.”
Mia’s thoughts froze like a blast of arctic air blew through her brain. “Did you—is this … did you buy me a flower shop?”
“No,” he said, and the finality of the tiny word was a splash of water to the face. “My mom did.”
“Uh, um, what? I don’t get it.”
He stared up at the building and blew out a long breath. “When Mom died, she left me a lot of money. Money I couldn’t spend because it came with the condition that I do something with it that would make me happy. At the time, nothing could. But now … well, I think nothing would make me—or my mom—happier than watching you turn your dream into a reality. In your plan, you noted that the building is too big for just you, so I’m hoping you won’t mind sharing it with an up-and-coming small business owner. He’s hoping to start his own accounting and bookkeeping service, and he’d probably be willing to help you.” His eyes trailed slowly from the building to her, and his half-smile was a shot of sunshine to her core.
“You?”
