More Than Hate You (More Than Words)

“What’s the food like in Phoenix?”

I remember an argument Jeremy used to have with a frat brother from San Antonio. “Spicy. Nothing beats Sonoran-style Mexican food. That Tex-Mex stuff is crap.”

She laughs. “You’ll never convince me fajitas aren’t good.”

“And you’ve never lived until you’ve had a real cheese crisp.”

“What the devil is that?”

Something Jeremy waxed poetic about anytime the Mexican food discussion came up. “My words can’t do it justice, and a picture is worth a thousand of them. Look it up.”

“I would, but my computer is still doing its thing. Fourteen minutes left. You sure you don’t mind waiting?”

“Why should I? This is the most fun I’ve had all day.” That’s actually true.

“Sorry. I can’t say the same. Wine still beats you out. But if it makes you feel better, you’re running a close second.”

I laugh. “I’ll take that and accept the challenge of topping your wine.”

“You can try, but it will be tough.”

“I’m crafty. I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll bet you are. What made you decide to leave your corporate job to consult?”

“Better flexibility. Better pay.”

“More hours. More risk.”

“I’m okay with that. Are those the reasons you’re not self-employed?”

She hesitates. “I needed the experience after finishing my MBA. Education is great and all, but nothing replaces real-world knowledge.”

Not necessarily true, but I wonder who convinced her of that.

“So why Reservoir? You must have had other offers.” Tons of them, based on what I read about her academic career.

“Well, I wanted to stay local.”

“Because of friends? Family?” I’m curious how she’ll answer.

“A lot of things. My mom passed away a couple of years ago.”

I knew that, but when I hear the catch in her voice, I feel her sense of loss. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. It was sudden and unexpected. I wasn’t at all prepared… But I grew up in Dallas. I wasn’t ready to leave.”

“Makes sense.” Plus, she gave me a great opening to ask what I really want to know. “What about your dad?”

“He was never in the picture when I was growing up.”

The man is now, at least by virtue of being her boss’s boss’s boss. Are their estrangement and her mother’s death the reasons Rawson suddenly gave her a job? “Do you know where to find him? Have you talked?”

“There’s my computer. It came back up. Finally.” She sounds relieved, probably way more about the subject change than the PC restarting properly.

But I let it slide—for now. We’ll come back to this subject. There’s a reason neither she nor Rawson wants anyone to know they’re father and daughter. And if I can figure out why, maybe I can use that information to prevent anyone in the organization from pitching to Wynam.

“Always a relief, right? Shall we log in and get down to it?”