Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
My dad ladles jasmine rice on his plate, followed a moment later by yellow chicken curry and pad Thai noodles. We decided on our favorite Thai restaurant after he picked me up from work for our dinner date.
“So my tour with Adam was short.” He gives me a disgruntled look, as though it’s my fault.
“I’m sure he was busy,” I say distractedly. I haven’t gotten over the anger on Adam’s face when he left me this afternoon. It should bother me that for a moment he looked like he was going to kiss me, but nope. It was the angry part I didn’t like.
My dad passes the noodles. “I got the impression there was tension between you two.”
Understatement. “Adam and I are always at each other’s throats. We don’t get along.” No need for him to know every source of my and Adam’s frustrations.
Dad shovels in a forkful of food, his forehead scrunched in thought. He chews for a moment. “That’s not what I picked up. During the tour it seemed like he wanted to get back to you. Just be careful. Workplace relationships can get complicated.”
“Dad, there’s no relationship.” How do I explain Adam to my father? “If Adam wanted to get back to me, it was to give me a hard time.”
“Did he? Go back and give you a lecture?”
Adam caught me snooping and warned me off, so… “Yes.”
My dad pours tea into the tiny restaurant teacup. “He’s not your boss, is he?”
“No.” I swallow the food in my mouth. “Though I’m sure he wishes he were, so he could control me.”
He sets his cup down. “I don’t like the sound of that. He came across as a good guy when we spoke in the hallway and during the tour. I must have read him wrong.”
I could allow my father to believe that, and a few weeks ago, I would have. But I can’t ignore the glimpses of Adam that have me thinking differently. “You read him fine. He’s not a bad guy. We just…disagree.”
My father takes another bite and studies my face. “And that’s it? Nothing else is bothering you? You seemed distracted the last time you called home. Your mother sent me down to make sure everything was all right. You’re making friends in town?”
Doesn’t matter how old I am. My parents will always worry.
“Yes. I’m fine. It’s just work stuff.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
My father would freak out if I told him what I suspected went on behind closed doors at Blue Casino. Which is why I won’t. “Nope.” The look in his eyes tells me he’s still concerned. “Dad, I’m twenty-seven. I can take care of myself.”
He tries for a smile and pats my hand. “Age doesn’t change anything. You’re still my daughter.”
“Got it. Once a parent, always a parent. Now eat your food. We wouldn’t want Mom to have to wait too long to find out how our dinner date went.”
Ever since my mom became vice principal at a junior high school in Reno, she’s been working long hours. She doesn’t get down here as often as my father, but it doesn’t mean she’s out of the loop.
He grins. “Good point. I’m sure she’ll call me on the way home. So I had better get some information, or I’ll never hear the end of it.” He takes a sip of hot tea. “So, about this Adam fellow. Why don’t you guys get along?”
“Dad, really?” He raises his eyebrow, challenging me to deny there’s anything unusual about my relationship with Adam. “It’s complicated.”
“Adam appears to be a professional, good-looking guy, and he seems interested. Still not sure it’s a wise choice to date a coworker, but if you say he’s a decent person, then…” He shrugs, a questioning look on his face.
“What? No. That’s not going to happen.” I shake my head. “Adam—” I’m about to say hates me, when I catch myself. Because that’s not true. I’ve learned enough these last couple of weeks to know he doesn’t hate me. He drives me crazy, but he doesn’t hate me.
“He isn’t interested in anything serious,” I finally say. Not that Adam has expressed interest in me, but at least that will put my father off without me having to explain the complicated past I share with Adam.
“Hmm,” my father says, his mouth twisted.
I don’t like the pensive look on his face. “What does hmm mean?”
“Well, it’s just that most of us guys aren’t the settling-down types—until we do.”
“Is that some kind of crazy man-logic? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He tosses me a mint and pulls the bill to his side of the table. “Only that we never know which one of you is going to knock us off our game. Permanently.”
“So, you’re saying there aren’t nice guys out there. Every guy is a player until he finds the right girl?”
“There are nice guys. But even they’ll get the daylights knocked out of them when they find the one.”
My face heats. “Good talk, Dad. Glad to know you were a player before you met Mom. I’ll have to scour that image out of my head later. For now, you think you can come to the house and clean out the gutters?”