Page 107 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

Mom: We loved spending time with her at Lola’s party.

Dylan: Speaking of Lola, she won’t take off the bracelet Fallon gave her.

Cash: I never thought I’d see the day when our big brother settled down.

Mom: Stop teasing your brother.

Presley: OMG. This is the best news. I love Fallon and her cookies.

Presley: The holidays are going to be so fun with her around to help bake.

Harrison: You all realize I haven’t confirmed or denied anything, right?

Cash: Better be careful, brother. Sounds like Fallon is taking your place in the family if you mess this up.

Mom: Do I need to have your father talk some sense into you, Harrison?

Harrison: What do you mean?

I glance up when I hear Cabrina’s voice outside my office door, which is slightly open.

“You can go right in, sir,” she says brightly. “I’m sure he’ll welcome the interruption. It’s been a long day.”

“Thank you, Cabrina.” I would recognize my dad’s voice anywhere.

What is he doing here?

Guess I should have taken my mom’s warning literally.

“Hey, son, it’s good to see you,” Dad says as he walks inside my office.

My brow creases as I rise from my seat to greet him. “You should have told me you were coming into town. I would have picked you up from the airport.”

“I took a taxi. You have more important things to do than driving your old man around.” He holds out a cup of coffee. “I picked this up at the place you like down the street.”

“Thanks.” I grab the to-go cup and take a sip. The flavor of toasted marshmallow reminds me of the holidays in Aspen Grove. “Couldn’t resist adding a specialty creamer, huh?” I ask with a grin.

“What can I say? Your mom’s influence has rubbed off on me.” He goes over to the bar cart to pour himself two fingers of whiskey.

“You didn’t get yourself a coffee?”

He shakes his head as he sits in the chair across from my desk. “I wanted something stronger. Your mother bannedalcohol at home. She says I need to cut back on drinking and has me eating healthier too,” he grumbles, clearly not thrilled about it.

“Mom just wants you to be around as long as possible. We all do,” I say with a smile.

My dad relaxes in his chair and drinks his whiskey, studying me. “I’ve missed this version of you.”

I tilt my head, squinting at him. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

We have a good relationship, but it’s a lot different than with my siblings. He and Cash love cars and spend time in the garage working on his Jeep. With Dylan, they have Lola to talk about, and Presley gets to enjoy his doting side as the youngest and only girl. Me, on the other hand, our conversations have always centered around Stafford Holdings and business matters, with him occasionally asking how the hockey team is doing. I’m taken aback by his impromptu visit and unusual line of conversation.

“Dad, what are you really doing here?”

“You’re smiling,” he notes, disregarding my question. “That’s not like you.”

“I smile all the time,” I argue with a frown, unwilling to admit he’s right.

My dad leans forward, setting his drink on the desk. “Bullshit. You’ve a signature scowl—just like you’re wearing now,” he says, gesturing to my face. “This is the first time since you took over as CEO three years ago that I’ve walked into this office and actually gotten your full attention.”

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