Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“I could’ve walked in with a chainsaw with the way you two were carrying on. Now, what’s got you so riled up?” His eyes search mine.
It’s so hard to hold his gaze.
No matter how much his health spirals, nothing dulls his brain. He’s the same sharp man who braved the literal sea to raise us for years, never taking a single ounce of crap from anyone.
“It’s nothing,” I lie. “Just boring girl stuff.”
He glances over me to Maisy. “What’s going on, Margaret?”
“Pippa’s trying to wiggle her way out of a free work trip to Chicago.”
My expression ices over as I glare at her.
“Pippa?” Dad urges.
I turn to face him.
“You’re finally making your videos again?” He grins widely.
“No, Dad, this is just work—my day job. We’re supposed to go to Chicago to suss out problems with some reviews. And I guess my boss wants to spend thousands feeding conspiracy theories.”
Dad chuckles. “So he’s your typical stuffy suit with an ego? Everyone gets crappy reviews. Why investigate? The Green Mermaid takes flak yet they’ve still got millions lining up to drink that swill they call coffee.”
I roll my eyes. Dad never misses his chance to rag on Seattle’s biggest national coffee chain.
I have no idea how to explain it’s not the same clientele and reviews matter way more with luxury brands.
“We know. You’re a Wired Cup man for life. You need your morning brew tasting half-burned to enjoy it,” I say.
“And damn proud of it,” he says with a nod. “Now why don’t you want to go to Chicago?”
Silence.
I don’t know how to answer without lying through my teeth.
“Piper, what’s wrong?” he asks again.
I’m flipping speechless.
I rack my brain for excuses but I don’t dredge up anything that sounds remotely believable.
I’m waiting for Maisy to jump in and save me—as sad as that is—but she makes no effort, turning her attention back to her phone.
“I see. You two are busy conspiring again about how to take care of me without making me feel as useless as a greyhound with two legs,” he grumbles.
“Dad, no!” I say.
Maisy looks up and shakes her head. “No way. Pippy just got boring since she took the nine-to-five.”
“Girls, I appreciate it, but I don’t need you tied down making sure I get three square meals. I’m your dad. I take care of you.”
And he always has.
That’s what makes this so hard when your father’s as stubborn as he is kind.
It’s why I can’t let him down.
I wave my hand. “Oh, it’s not that. I just don’t like my boss that much. You were right about the ego part, and I don’t want to be stuck in Chicago with him for a weekend.”
“Make her go, Dad,” Maisy says. “She hasn’t been anywhere for months.” She meets my eyes. “Is Brock going to be glued to you the whole weekend?”
“Brock? Brock Winthrope? You’re on a first-name basis with him?” Dad asks.
“Not exactly, but, um, yeah. He’s the big boss.” I glare at Maisy to shush before looking back at Dad and smiling. “He’s a really friendly guy. Everyone calls him Brock.”
Biggest lie ever, but I’m sure the only thing Dad knows from the news is that the Winthropes are filthy rich.
Dad nods. I’m not sure he believes me.
His eyes flick from me to Maisy and back to me slowly.
“You ladies need lives. I won’t have you sacrificing when you’ve got the whole world in front of you.” He pauses and sighs. “I know. I know you want to take care of me, and I love you both for it. But I’m a grown-ass man. I can take care of myself, and when I can’t, well, that’s what the nurses are for. I’m not gonna be your ball and chain, and I won’t be your excuse for skipping out on life neither.”
“Dad,” I whisper, reaching gently for his hand.
“No, Pippa. I fought hurricane winds in the Alaskan crab season to pay this house off when you were still in diapers. I can handle this damn annoying autoimmune crap—”
“But your muscles—”
“They still work, don’t they? Just not like they used to.” He forces a smile. “As long as I’m breathing and able to walk, I’ll take care of myself. I’ve got my prescriptions. I know what to do when I’m having an episode and need to go to the hospital. That’s why you set me up with the alert.” He reaches for the little emergency alert unit on his necklace and holds it up. Go to Chicago, Piper. You wanna help me, then make me proud.”
Ugh. Low blow.
His stubborn ass knows I’ll do it, too.
Part of me wants to say, fine, but Maisy has to go to the soccer game, but I can’t. I don’t want Dad home alone.
After the better part of a minute where they’re both looking me over, I sigh and turn around.