But she hadn’t. Not Ally. Instead, she’d put her spine of steel into action and had simply lifted her chin and carried on.
Even when it had become evident that none of her belongings were salvageable and that she had nothing left.
He admired her grit, her obvious determination to forge onward without betraying her despair. Even as he wondered about its source. There always seemed to be a sadness hovering in the depths of her eyes, just under the surface. Though it was foolish to get caught up in Ally’s life, he was curious about her.
Was her time in foster care at the root of her sorrow? What had happened? How had she ended up in the system?
Those questions nagged at him as he gathered the thick sheaf of papers and headed back to his office.
Suddenly, a key rattled in the lock of the front door. He looked up and saw Dad coming in with a wet umbrella in his hand.
For an instant, Drew considered trying to avoid him; it had been a long, busy day, and he wasn’t exactly up for a confrontation. That was how most conversations between him and Dad turned out these days. But scurrying to his own office to hide seemed silly, and childish at that. Not to mention that he was tired of walking on thin ice around his father. He’d been doing that for most of his adult life and he was beyond weary with the situation.
Guess that would end as soon as he moved to Atherton. Surprisingly, that thought filled him with disquietingly equal measures of regret and anticipation.
Dad shook off the umbrella and closed it with a snap. Then he looked up and saw Drew standing there. Dad paused, his brown eyes unblinking, and swiped a hand through the graying hair at his temples. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m finishing up the Sullivans’ paperwork for our meeting tomorrow.”
Dad set the umbrella on the reception counter. “Ah. Yes.” He picked up the messages Jan had left for him. “Heard that deal went through.”
For a heartbeat, Drew waited for a pat on the back; he’d done an exemplary job on the Sullivan deal, given how far apart the seller’s asking price and the Sullivans’ initial offer had been.
However, he was greeted with nothing but silence as his dad read the small pink slips of paper in his hands.
“You know, Dad, the deal almost didn’t happen.”
“Really?”
Drew ground his molars together until his jaw ached. “Don’t play games.”
He gave Drew a blank look.
“I heard you talking to Jan about the offer history, so I know you’re aware of how the whole thing went down.”
Dad’s face remained completely impassive.
Drew’s neck heated. “Why can’t you just give me some credit here?”
“I give you plenty of credit,” Dad replied.
Drew stared at him. “Ever since you got wind of my plans to move to Atherton, you haven’t been able to even be civil to me, let alone praise me for a job well done around here.”
“I gave you credit for years, and look where that got me,” Dad snapped.
“This isn’t about you,” Drew whipped back.
Dad slapped the messages on the counter. “But it is all about you, right?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“You didn’t have to. Your actions lately tell that story.”
“My actions?” Drew snorted. “I’m just following my dream, Dad. Doing what I want. And you always reduce that to mere actions rather than anything important.”
“And what about my dream to have you take over the business I built from the ground up?” Dad gestured around. “I went from working on the kitchen table to this, and you’re just going to walk away from all of it.”
Drew felt his pulse in his forehead. “That’s just the thing. This place is your dream, not mine.”
“Yeah, you’ve made it abundantly clear this all means nothing to you.”
“Here we go with that again,” Drew replied. They’d had this conversation up, down, diagonal and sideways, and they never seemed to find any common ground.
“Yeah, here we go,” Dad shot back. “I trained you for years, ever since you started working here after school when you were sixteen.”
“You can replace me,” Drew said with a great amount of control, which belied the rancid churning in his gut.
“Moonlight Cove isn’t exactly a hotbed of real estate sales talent. Replacing you is going to be a big problem.”
Drew had heard this all before. The story never changed, which only made him want to run away faster. It was a bad dynamic, but he didn’t know how to change it. His dad was the most stubborn person on the planet. Mom ran a close second. “I told you I’d help you with that.”
“Now that you’ve had an interview, it’s too late.”
“So why didn’t you agree to have me look for a replacement earlier?” Drew had offered to start a search several months ago when he’d applied to Atherton Fire and Rescue, but Dad would have none of it. He’d actually forbidden Drew to place an ad or interview anyone.
Dad looked at the floor, then simply shrugged.
Understanding dawned. “You were hoping the interview wouldn’t work out and that I’d be forced to stay.”
“I’m only thinking of the business,” Dad said. “A business that has provided very well for our family, by the way.”
But not for the past few years. The tanking economy had put Sellers Real Estate through the wringer lately. “I get that, Dad.” It probably didn’t help that Drew had chosen to leave Moonlight Cove right now, in the midst of the economic downturn. “But as a prospective firefighter with lots of competition, I’m not getting any younger.”
He left out that he could only pretend to be happy hawking designer kitchens and updated bathrooms for so long. No sense in twisting the knife that much. Besides, his dad knew that working as a real estate agent had never been Drew’s first choice. Even if he acted as if Drew had decided to become a firefighter on a whim.
“I’m not, either.” With sagging shoulders, Dad cast his gaze around. “Who’s going to take over my legacy when I want to retire?”
Guilt prodded hard and sharp, and Drew winced inwardly. For just a moment, seeing the slump in his father’s broad shoulders did a number on Drew’s resolve to pursue his dream, no matter what the cost.
Dad spoke again. “Why don’t you let me put out some feelers. Maybe you could find a job closer to Moonlight Cove and still work for me part-time.”
Impatience tugged at Drew, hard. “Dad, none of the departments around here have any paid positions—”
Drew’s cell phone rang, cutting him off. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the caller ID. Stacy Sullivan, calling with the last bit of information for their offer. “Dad, just a sec, I have to take this.” If anyone understood interrupting a conversation for a client, it was Dad. Business had often come at the expense of family when Drew had been growing up.
He turned and had a brief conversation with Stacy, heading toward his office so he could write down the figure she gave him.
He finished and pressed End, then went out to resume the conversation with his dad, even though he was tempted to run the other way out the back door down the hall. But what was the sense in running from the inevitable? Drew had been doing that for years, and it had to stop.