Grateful in Watch Hill : A Small Town Romance, Sara Celi [good beach reads .TXT] 📗

things together each day. By the time Friday afternoon arrived, I was bone tired.

“I’m going to take a nap,” I told Dad that afternoon as I started the dishwasher. “I really need one.”

“You seem tired.” He sat at the kitchen table with pieces of the local newspaper spread out in front of him. We could have cut the subscription to save money, but he loved to read it every day, saying it was one of the ways he relaxed. I didn’t have the heart to take that away from him too. “In fact, you’ve been down the last few days.”

“I know.” I washed my hands under the kitchen faucet, wiped them on a nearby towel, and joined him at the table. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I hesitated.

“Come on,” he insisted. “I’m your dad. If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?”

“Good point.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Remember the meeting I had with Nancy?”

He nodded. “You were so excited about it, but you didn’t tell me much about what she wanted.”

“She offered me a job with her dance company.”

Dad cocked his head, and his jaw slackened in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing. Honey, this is great news and—”

“No.” I held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not what you think.”

“How?” He straightened in his chair and placed his elbows on the table as he gave me his full attention. “I can’t imagine this being a bad thing.”

I gulped, my tongue going dry as my throat tightened. “Remember how I used to work at The Frosted Heart sometimes?” He nodded. “Well, the owner is a guy named Seth, and he’s the one that got me the job. He talked to Nancy first.”

Dad spread his calloused hand, one covered in liver spots. “So, what’s the problem?”

“You can’t tell?”

He shook his head.

“It’s charity. It’s fake. I didn’t get this because I deserved it. I got it because someone felt sorry for me.”

He blanched. “Honey, I’m not following you.”

“I don’t want a job because someone wants to give me a handout.” I laughed without humor. “I want a job I earn.”

Dad studied me from behind his world-weary eyes. The last few years had been hard on him, and it showed in the lines on his face. I suspected my own features also showed the stress of our reality. “From what I know about Nancy, she doesn’t just offer jobs to anyone. Remember when you auditioned for her dance company a few years back? She was tough.”

I grimaced. “She was.”

“And yet, you took that rejection in your stride, and you grew from it. Worked harder. Got better. And then you were . . . you got that job with ADC in New York.” His shoulders slumped. “While I know it was a huge disappointment that the company had to shut down due to this blasted virus, the fact is, you were there. You’re that talented.”

“That isn’t worth very much now.”

The corners of Dad’s eyes softened. “It still means something. It still has value.”

“I don’t want to be a charity case.”

“You’re not. You never were.” He smiled. “It sounds to me like this Seth fellow is a pretty decent guy. Really kind of him to help you connect with Nancy.”

“She said she wanted me to help start the new modern dance division for her company, and now that we’re all reopening, there’s a chance to expand and invest in something that she’d wanted to do for years.” I thought about the conversation we’d had in the rehearsal hall a few days before, and how excited I’d been to hear about her vision. “I really wanted to do it.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

I recoiled.

“It seems to me, if you want the job, there’s no reason to not do it.”

A simple statement, a simple truth. And yet . . .

“She said she’d send paperwork to me by the end of today.” I glanced at the kitchen clock. “Probably by now, in fact.”

“Have you checked?”

I shrugged.

Dad leaned backward in his chair. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking. I can almost read your mind, and I know you’re letting your stubbornness get the best of you.”

He had a point. “Maybe . . .”

“Have you checked your phone to see if she’s contacted you?” My father jerked his head in the direction of my phone, which I’d placed on the counter before doing the dishes. “Worth a look.”

Following his orders, I stood and retrieved the device from the fading Formica. Once back at the table, I took a deep breath before I unlocked it. Several email messages filled my inbox, and I scrolled though deleting them until I arrived at Nancy’s email. I turned my attention to my dad.

“She sent it over,” I said. “She’s really serious about this. Attachments, an employee contract, everything.”

His mouth broke into a wide grin, and for the fist time in forever, I saw real joy behind his eyes. “Kendra, that’s great news. This is what you’ve waited for.”

“I know, but—”

“But what?”

“What if . . . what if I’m not ready for this? What if things don’t turn out the way I want them to?”

“They will.” Still smiling at me, he shook his head. “Don’t let this moment pass you by, honey. Don’t let this be something you regret.”

I locked my phone and put it on the table. Leave it to Dad. “Seth is a good guy,” I admitted. “He . . . he probably wouldn’t have done this in sympathy. He’s not like that.” And I should have seen that from the beginning. Seth always knew when I was back from New York and asked me every time to work at his nightclub. He was a businessman looking for something . . . someone to make his business better. He was the person to know in the entertainment industry too. God.

“He connected you with someone, and they decided you’d be a good fit for their company. Their vision,” Dad said. “I don’t see the problem with it.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

Dad leaned in. “So what