Page 46 of Falling for You Again

“They’re meeting somebody.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know.”

It’s probably someone from the Savant House. Aaron’s telling his parents and staff today that we married over the weekend. He’ll let them take that information and do with it what they want. The acquisitions team will present this new development to the Board of Directors, who will reevaluate the viability of acquiring Artisant Designs. At least we hope that’s what will happen. It could take weeks, maybe even a few months before they make a decision. The board needs to reconvene.

I keep checking my phone. Aaron said he’d text after he meets with his mom, Kaye Borland.

Dad is cleaning his workstation and putting away tools, so I return to working on my laptop, modeling a new bedside table that I can copyright under my name.

“Want to go to lunch?”

I shriek, my finger sending the cursor across the screen. “Dad, you scared me.”

Dad stands at my workstation, his hands in his front pockets. “Didn’t mean to.”

I press a hand to my racing heart. “What did you just ask me?”

“Lunch. You hungry?”

“I heard you. I just ... really?” We’ll eat lunch together at the shop, but we never go out to eat together. We haven’t since I was ten. I invitedhim multiple times after I got over my anger that he and Mom had left me, but after a while, I got tired of him declining so I stopped asking.

“I’m buying,” he says.

I’m speechless. I also can’t pack up my laptop fast enough. Feeling like a kid whose dad just offered to take her to the amusement park, I don’t want to miss this chance with him. Just the two of us, like it used to be.

I’m supposed to meet Emi for lunch so I text her to meet up for coffee this afternoon instead as I follow Dad out of the shop. He takes me to an old-style deli four blocks away. He orders a Reuben with a watery coleslaw and I get the BLT on Dutch Crunch. We take our sandwiches and fountain sodas to a table outside.

“Weather is nice,” Dad says, unwrapping his sandwich, looking up at the sky.

“It is,” I agree. There’s a smattering of clouds and it isn’t too humid.

“Saw you yesterday.”

Nerves flicker in the center of my chest. “You did.”

“New boyfriend?”

My mouth works. “You could say that.”

“Nice-looking guy. He treat you right?”

“He does.”

“Better than that Paul fellow?”

“My ex? Um ... yeah. I didn’t realize you noticed.” Or have an opinion.

“I noticed.” He stares at his sandwich on the table while he chews.

I look at my sandwich as the silence between us goes on a few beats longer than is comfortable. Our conversation is sputtering. At this rate, whatever Dad is trying to strike up between us will fizzle out like a deflated balloon.

I put down my sandwich. “Why did you ask me to lunch?”

“I was hungry.”

“Dad.”

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