He ran a hand through his hair. “Money isn’t a problem, Gracie.”
My mom, who had been quiet until this point, tugged on his arm. “Richard darling, leave Gracie alone. She’s an adult, and this is her decision. I agree, this place is charming.”
She and I shared a knowing glance between us. My dad was overprotective and hated my independent streak. I had earned a scholarship to go to law school, and he had insisted I concentrate on school and not work, which hadn’t sat well with me. I had gotten a part-time job at one of the small coffee shops anyway. The pay wasn’t great, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It gave me a chance simply to be Grace, and I met some amazing people who became friends and made a little money that was mine. My mother understood the importance of that, having had a different upbringing from my dad. He had been displeased, but as usual, supported me in my decision.
I had wavered when it was time to choose my career. I knew how much my father secretly hoped I would join him in the world of marketing. I went to school for two years before I finally admitted the truth. Marketing wasn’t my passion. I didn’t have the drive or talent my father had. The flair for design Heather possessed. The day I told my parents, they had both been shocked, but my father had insisted I stop following what I thought was his dream and concentrate on my own. He was horrified I had done something I thought would make him happy rather than pursuing my own desires. I took a little time off, did a lot of soul-searching, then registered for the next available opening in the law program in Toronto and never looked back.
I didn’t want to live on campus, and I had fallen in love with this place. My dad loved modern, sleek buildings. I preferred old, Victorian ones with character. He loved luxury and all the trappings his wealth brought him. I had been lucky growing up and always appreciated the ease I lived with, never worrying about money, but I never took it for granted. I valued how hard he worked to give us a good life. His ethics helped mold mine, and even though he grumbled over my independent streak, I knew he was proud of me.
My dad had cajoled, pleaded, and even threatened, then accepted my decision. I capitulated to a few of his demands. No walking after dark, a modified security system he would get BAM to install, and twice-a-week check-ins until he was comfortable. Years later, those still happened.
My mom told me a few years after I had moved in that he’d thought I would change my mind, but I never did. I was still in the same space and still loved my little home, much to my dad’s chagrin.
As if he knew I was thinking about him, my phone rang. Smiling, I hit speaker.
“Hi, Dad.”
His rich baritone filled my apartment. “Hello, Gracie-girl. Excited for your first day?”
I chuckled, sipping my coffee. “I am. Nervous too.”
“Don’t be. They’re lucky to have you.”
“It’s three a.m. in BC, Dad. Are you still awake or up early?”
“Still awake. I wanted to wish you well today, baby girl. Let you know I would be thinking of you and how proud I am.”
I smiled at his words. Even across the country, I could feel his love. He was very open with his feelings for us. He and I had always been close. Growing up, he was a hero in my eyes. I still thought so. He was strong and affectionate and had always been a great dad. He was a consummate businessman, his career in the marketing industry legendary. His name was synonymous with excellence, his reputation stellar. He was also known as arrogant and confident—someone you didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with. But to us, his family, he was just Dad. Loving, stern, affectionate, and funny. He worshiped my mother, his love for her evident in his gaze and the way he put her first in every decision. Given their rocky start, theirs was an interesting story with a fairy-tale ending.
Hard to live up to.
I realized my dad had said something and was waiting for my response.
“Sorry, Dad. What did you say?”
“I asked if you needed anything.”
“No. I’m good.”
“You met your boss, right?”
“Yes.”
“He has quite the reputation in intellectual property law.”
“Yes. He was, ah, pretty intense. Very serious. But I’m excited. He seems as if he wants to teach me. He laid out his expectations very clearly.”
“I have no doubt you’re up to the challenge, my girl. You can do anything you put your mind to.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“If he steps out of line, let me know.”
I laughed. “He’s older than me, Dad. I highly doubt a law student doing her articling is his speed. Especially me.”