Put on the spot, I didn’t know what to say.
Dr. Hamilton finished his signatures and set the pile of papers at the edge of his desk. He capped the pen then looked at me. “We expanded the property, so we have room if you’d like to stay for the weekend.”
The weekend? Dr. Hamilton just invited me to his second home for the weekend. It was surreal. “Thank you for the offer. But I think—”
“I think you should come.” Dr. Hamilton cut me off and stared me down. “Or find a new job.”
Mrs. Hamilton smiled. “Looks like you’re coming, then.”
Dr. Hamilton gave me a slight smile, telling me he was joking.
I knew he would keep inviting me until I agreed to come to something, so I went with it. “I’ll come up for the day.”
“Great,” Dr. Hamilton said. “I think we could all use a break from the office.”
11
Daisy
Dad sat across from me at the table, looking down at the chessboard.
I already knew my next five moves because I knew what his next five moves would be. But he guessed the exact same thing and tried to outsmart me further down the line. A single game of chess could take us hours, and sometimes it took so long that we didn’t even finish the game.
He never let me win.
That made my victories all that much sweeter and the pride in his eyes that much more potent.
Dad finally settled on a move.
Mom watched TV on the couch with her laptop on her lap, the sound down low so it wouldn’t bother us.
Bear was on the floor at my dad’s feet, never leaving his side.
I made my move.
His eyes remained down, focused on the board. “Excited for this weekend?”
“Yes. I worked eighty hours last week. I’m soooo ready to sit by the lake and eat a ton of s’mores.”
“How are things at the clinic?”
“Good. Atlas and I worked together on one of his patients. Found out he served in Vietnam at eighteen and, as a result, got soft tissue sarcoma. His memory was diminishing, and he was blacking out more and more often. Atlas was able to file the paperwork with the government to attempt to get his medical bills covered and get him disability for the rest of his life.”
Dad studied the board before he made his move. “Atlas is a good man.”
“Yeah, he’s not bad.”
“I like him a great deal.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that.” I’d anticipated his move, so I quickly made mine.
He lifted his dark eyes and looked at me. “He’s half my age but keeps up with me. And his heart is always in the right place.”
“I agree.” I used to bounce ideas off all my colleagues, but now I went to Atlas more often than anyone else. Without using the Network program, he had answers, could figure things out quicker than any other diagnostician I’d ever met. His brilliance was remarkable, and once I could see all his good qualities, I didn’t mind working for him. “He’s a good fit for the clinic. I understand why Dylan hired him.”
Dad stilled as he watched me, his hand reaching for his chess piece. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”
“I was just being a brat.”
He smiled as he moved his piece. “You aren’t a brat, sweetheart. You just have opinions and aren’t afraid to voice them. I would never change that about you. I never have to worry about someone taking advantage of you because you would never allow it to happen.”
“Damn right.” I moved my piece immediately.
He smirked. “I know what you’re doing.” He threw me a curve ball and made a completely different move.
Totally upended my plan.
I shot him a glare before I responded, moving my chess piece. “Damn.”
Back and forth we went, making our moves, trying to outsmart the other.
Dad studied the board. “Atlas is about your age.”
“I’m not sure how old he is.”
“Just a couple years older.”
“Yes, it’s nice having a colleague close in age at the clinic.”
He nodded. “He’s a very handsome man…”
My eyes immediately flicked up.
“Bright. Dedicated. Kind. Has a lot of good qualities…”
My eyes remained glued to his face, my eyebrow arched. “Uh-huh…”
“Maybe you should…consider him as an option.”
Now, both of my eyebrows were arched, and I stared at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious. Is this really happening right now? Dad, are you trying to set me up with…a guy? You? The man who avoids my love life like the plague?”
He kept his gaze down, like he didn’t know what to say.
“He’s not my type.”
Dad moved his piece and let the silence linger.
I thought the conversation was over, so I continued the game.
But apparently it wasn’t because Dad sighed and met my gaze, the game officially abandoned. “Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why is he not your type?”
I turned to look at Mom, seeing the back of her head over the couch. “Are you listening to this?”