Page 451 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
“You know what I’m trying to say. In these kinds of situations, the guy gets a pat on the back and the girl is called unflattering and suggestive names. I’m just not up for that kind of thing in the workplace.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
She gave me a thin smile. “Thank you. Now go on, I’ll see you in an hour. We have a big day ahead of us.”
That might have been an understatement. While I lingered at the curb to make sure she got inside, I thought about everything on our plate today. We were scheduled to spend the majority of the day at the Christmas Market, and later tonight we’d be heading to the original Bamford’s store for the VIP Midnight Shopping spree for club members who paid for exclusive Bamford memberships. It was an event my father came up with nine years ago that led to a massive revenue increase for our stores. The inspiration?
Tinsely of course.
The midnight shop had been inspired by her overnight stay at the store the year prior.
After I dropped her off, I headed to the office, where things were pumping as everyone made up for lost time due to the storm. Aleena brushed past me when I got out of the elevator. She had a large bag thrown over her shoulder and another employee hurried along behind her with a cart on wheels full of stuff.
“Headed to Bamford’s to set up for the VIP shop?” I called as I walked backward to my father’s office.
She fiercely jabbed buttons on the elevator. “Yup. We were supposed to have all day yesterday to set up, but I guess mother nature had other plans in mind. Didn’t she?” Aleena winked.
I wasn’t sure what that was about, and I didn’t care to hang back and ask. I went and found my father in his office fixing himself a coffee. He offered me one when I knocked, and a couple of minutes later we both found ourselves sitting by the window watching Aleena and her team cram all their stuff into the back of a van way down on street level. They looked like tiny ants scurrying about to please their masters.
I chuckled.
My father arched an eyebrow. “Something funny?”
“No, it’s nothing. How was riding out the storm at the estate?” I’d been worrying a little about my dad during the storm. I’d checked in with him yesterday morning when I stepped away to my office to get some work done and found out that he was all alone at the big estate where I was raised. Thinking of him totally alone in that house hit me differently than I expected, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about what his plans were for retirement.
Did he plan on spending the rest of his days in the giant house he shared with my mother?
Did he want to sell it?
Would he be lonely?
My father ran a hand down his thigh and scratched his knee. He was dressed sharply today in a navy suit with a paisley pocket square rich in shades of fuchsia and turquoise. My father had always liked to play with color.
“It was quiet,” he said after a time. “With no house staff around, I found myself feeling quite restless.”
“Dad,” I said, pausing for a moment to choose my words carefully.
He watched me. “Yes?”
“I think I’ve been so busy thinking about myself and how my life will change after I take over the company that I haven’t stopped to think about how much your life will change.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I wonder if you’ve made plans for your retirement?”
He sipped his coffee and gazed out the window. Across the street, in an office tower built long before ours, a couple in a small corner office shared an intimate moment behind closed doors under what appeared to be a small sprig of mistletoe held over their heads by the taller of the two.
My father smiled before turning his attention back to me. “I have thought about it. In fact, I’ve thought about it for years. The original plan for retirement was supposed to be traveling with your mother. We argued about it often, if you recall.”
“She wanted to start with Asia, and you wanted to go to Europe,” I said. Years and years ago I’d overheard them bickering in the kitchen, and my mother had told my dad to step out of his comfort zone already. He’d been to Europe a dozen times over. I smiled at the memory. “Does this mean you’re going to Korea? Mom always wanted to start there.”
He chuckled. “No, but I do intend to travel. I’m an older man than I used to be, Chadwick. These bones aren’t made for long haul flights and lots of walking, I’m afraid. Instead, I plan on spending as much time as I can on sandy beaches in tropical climates. I hear the south Pacific is beautiful, and there is this place called the Cook Islands that society hasn’t quite managed to swallow whole yet. No business franchises, a limited amount of tourists per year, just the locals and their authentic lifestyle.”
“Sounds like a good place to start.”
“I agree.” My father set his coffee aside before leaning back in his chair and making himself comfortable. He crossed one leg over the other, clasped his hands together, and studied me. “If I’m lucky, I might even meet someone.”
I felt my eyebrows lift. “Oh?”
