Page 17 of Perfect Pairing
“Three doors up from Blossom’s,” I said, naming the flower shop Ella worked at since she finished college.
His eyes narrowed. “The old Brubaker place?”
I nodded. “That’s the one.”
“That place was closed down because they continued to violate health code regulations!”
“I told you it would need a lot of work,” I pointed out. “Please don’t say no yet. Just come look at it with me.”
“Why do I need to be involved anyway?”
“Because I want to use my trust fund to buy and renovate it.”
“Absolutely not,” he said quickly, and my heart sank into my butt. Noticing the forlorn expression on my face, he backtracked. “I mean, I’ll go look at it with you, but you’re not sinking your own money into it.”
“Technically, it’syourmoney,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Brie,” he warned.
“Sorry. I just don’t know of any other way. I don’t have that kind of money right now, and you know there’s always developers sniffing around up here, looking for their next payday. I don’t want some greedy, big city asshole to get his hands on it before I do.”
My father blinked slowly, clearly surprised by my vehemence. I wasn’t blind to the fact that the building—both inside and out—would need a lot of work, but the location was perfect, and given that it had previously operated as a mom and pop cafe, the infrastructure was already there. I had a vision, and I needed my dad to see it too.
“By saying no to accessing your trust fund before you’re twenty-five,” he started, “I wasn’t saying no to purchasing the building. I’m only saying let me handle that stuff for now.”
“But…”
His hand reached out to grab mine. “I know you want yourown place, honey. And it will be yours. Your name will be on the door and everything. But you’re not even living here right now. Once we look at it and I decide if the building is worth the investment, I want to handle renovations for you.”
“You’d do that?”
“You’re my baby,” my dad said softly. “I’d do anything for you and your sisters. Plus, if this pans out, it’ll keep me out of your mother’s hair while the winery is closed for the winter.”
“As long as I get to be fully involved.”
“Of course,” he promised. “Whatever you want.”
“I want to go look at it on Saturday.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
After giving him one more hug, we returned to the kitchen, where my mom and sisters gave us various looks of wariness, confusion, and curiosity. But I wasn’t about to spill the beans, not until we scoped out the place and decided if it was worthwhile. Already, my hopes were through the roof, and I’d be devastated if my dad deemed the property a money pit. I wanted my own place so badly, with aBrie’s Bakerysign hanging in the window and a pale orange and cream striped awning over the door.
I awoke Christmas morningwhen a small mass collided with my stomach.
“Mewwy Chwistmas, Daddy!”
I blinked my eyes open slowly to find my son hovering over me, his face shining with joy, lips stretched into a wide grin.
Snaking my hands out from under the comforter, I settled them on his tiny torso—and dug my fingers into that ticklish spot at his hips. A moment later, he rewarded me with loud giggles, flopping sideways on the bed to get away from my torture.
“Daaaaaad!” he shouted as I rolled over and continued my assault.
At last, I stopped, chuckling as his laughter faded.
“Merry Christmas, my boy.”
Hansen was on his feet in a flash, jumping up and down on my bed as he chanted, “Pwes-ents! Pwes-ents!”
