Page 10 of Hooking Her Up

He makes a sour face. “I saw the way that young man at the garage was looking at you.” He raises the crumpled ad again. “He clearly doesn’t know his place, and I don’t want loneliness to cloud your judgment.”

My face burns with shame. Has the elevator always been this slow? “There’s nothing wrong with Liam or the way he lives,” I say.

“It’s not the way we live, though.”

Normally I would clam up. Agree with my silence. But I don’t want to be silent anymore. Giving up the bakery job was the first bit of ice loosening in the mountain of my regrets. If Dad straight up tells me I can’t see Liam, it’s going to start an avalanche. I don’t want total destruction, just happiness. To live my life the way I want, the way Liam urged me to the other day.

“What if I wanted to live differently?” I ask. “You know I’ve always been good at baking…”

“That’s a fine skill to have. Great for entertaining. But you’re not suggesting you waste the degree you’ve been working toward?”

“The degree doesn’t have to go to waste.”

The doors slide open and he steps out, shaking his head. “How ridiculous. A successful firm is waiting to hire you full time when you graduate.” He waves his hand at the sign on the wall. Woods and Burleson Investments. “One day it will be you and Brent running things, when Benjamin and I retire.”

“I’m proud of your success here, Dad, but it’s not what I want. I’d like to get an apprenticeship at a baker’s and eventually open my own shop. I can use what I’ve learned so far to start my own business.”

He stops, and his angry face softens a bit, to a look of pity. “You have no idea what it’s like out there for people like that tow truck driver,” he says. “Your mother and I made sure you’d never have to. Whatever romantic notions you have about going your own way will grow tedious before you know it.” His stern scowl returns. “And you may not be able to find your way back to the good life.”

“What do you mean by that?” I’m astounded at his underlying threat.

He looks over my shoulder, he eyes going blank with seething rage. When I turn to see what has him so upset, I see Liam standing in the lobby, a few feet away from us. He smiles and waves, but doesn’t step forward because my dad grips my arm, leaning close.

“It means you’ll continue on the path you’ve always been on. That means having dinner at the club with Brent. It means finishing school and signing on here to learn to take over one day.”

“What if that’s not what I really want?” I ask, his fingers digging painfully into my arm.

“Then you won’t see another dime from me,” he hisses, letting go. He straightens his tie and checks his phone. “I expect those reports on my desk when I return from lunch.”

I stand there, shaking, as he strides past Liam without a glance. Liam hurries toward me and puts his arm around me just as I stumble forward in disbelief. Would my father really cut me off for choosing my dreams? I feel tears welling up and don’t want Liam to notice, but he already has, gently swiping his fingers across my cheeks.

“Come with me,” he says, leading me out of the lobby.

The sunshine feels good after the intense AC in the office. Liam’s hand on my back feels even better as he guides me toward the park.

“I have a bunch of work to do,” I say.

“It’s lunch time,” he answers. “Even for interns.” He looks down at me with a wry grin. “In other words, to hell with your father.”

“So you overheard?”

“I got the jist, yeah.”

We pass an ice cream stand and he stops, fishing coins from his pocket. I point to strawberry in silence and he orders. I’m anxious about the unfinished work, but as soon as he places the cone in my hand with his crooked smile, I can’t refuse. I won’t refuse this small respite from the fake life I’m forced to lead.

We sit on a park bench, watching the ducks in the lake, and he puts his arm around me while I lick the sweet ice cream and feel better by the second. I let out a small laugh.

“What?” he asks.

“You treat me like a little princess,” I say, holding up the remains of my cone. “Ice cream really makes everything all better.”

“Only ice cream?” He raises a brow and I impulsively lean over and kiss him, a quick peck on the mouth.

It still makes my heart race and I shyly look away. “Not just the ice cream,” I say, then look back at him. “I had a huge crush on you when I was a freshman,” I say.

His eyes pop. “You did? I thought you were the prettiest girl in school.”

I pretend to glare. “Then why didn’t you say something then?”

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