The Family Plan (The McClouds of Mississippi 1)

“Physically, she’s in fair shape. Mentally, there’s no change. She’s still almost completely unresponsive.”

“It must be difficult for you. Visiting her like that, I mean.”

“I’ve come to terms with her condition. I’ve learned to find some pleasure in the visits.”

Taking another step into the office, he pushed his fingertips into the front pockets of the jeans he wore with an Old Miss sweatshirt. “I was hoping I would find you here. I owe you an apology, and I wanted privacy in which to offer it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t owe me an apology.”

“Of course I do. First for eavesdropping on your private conversation. And second for getting angry about what I overheard.”

“I should have told you Tom approached me about a possible interview with his firm. You shouldn’t have had to find out by accident.”

“It was your business, not mine.”

“And you’re my business partner,” she countered gamely. “If I had arranged for an interview, I would certainly have talked to you about it, of course. I just didn’t want to bother you with it until I decided what I was going to do.”

“I think you should set up the interview. I can cover for you here.”

She frowned at him, surprised by his suggestion. “I haven’t even decided I want to go for an interview.”

“I think you should,” he insisted. “You don’t want to let the opportunity slip away from you.”

Her crossed arms tightened. “Why are you trying to talk me into this?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m not going to stand in your way if big opportunities present themselves to you. This could be just the break you’ve always wanted.”

“I don’t even know if I’m interested in moving to California,” she argued. “My mother is here. And I’ve got the Smith case that’s going to keep me busy for quite a while yet.”

“In California you would have challenging cases like that all the time. And you’d make enough to move your mom out there and hire round-the-clock private nurses for her.”

“Maybe, but how many hours would I have to work for that big salary?”

“Probably not much more than you do here,” he replied with a shrug. “Look at you now, you’re in the office on a Saturday afternoon. You’re here almost every Saturday. A lot of Sundays.”

“I just don’t know if I’m ready for a big firm like that. Maybe I need a few more years of experience.”

“Caitlin, you’re ready for anything you want to do. The firm in L.A. would be lucky to have you—and don’t think they aren’t going to recognize that. They’ll very likely offer you a position on the spot.”

It suddenly occurred to her that for every argument she came up with for not going to California, Nathan found a way to counter her. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? “Do you want me to go to Los Angeles?” she demanded.

He hesitated only a moment before answering wryly, “If I thought it would keep you here, I would gladly shackle you to your desk.”

There was absolutely no reason, of course, why she should feel a surge of relief. But she did. “You don’t want me to go?”

“I absolutely, positively, unequivocally do not want you to go. And in case that isn’t clear enough—I really do not want you to go.”

She felt her lips twitch with a smile. “So you want me to stay?”

He rested a hand on his chest, just over his heart. “With every fiber of my being. With every molecule in my body. From the top of my head to the soles of my feet, I want you to stay.”

Her smile widened in response to his fervent hyperbole. “Then why were you trying so hard to talk me into going?”

“Because I want you to follow your dreams.”

She was genuinely touched by the sincerity in his voice. “And if I decide I can pursue my dreams here?”

His tense expression lightened just a little. “Then you would be fulfilling my dreams.”