Chapter 5 Rachel

It felt so good to be in sweats and a hoodie with no makeup on my face. My hair was piled on my head, and I was wearing my very soft, comfy slippers. It felt good to be home. Not my home, but my second home, where I had my own room with a closet full of clothes.

Sometimes, I found myself needing to stay in the city, and having a room at my dad's house

was very convenient.

I walked downstairs and immediately went to the kitchen to grab a couple of cold beers.

"Dad?" I called out.

"In here."

I walked into the living room and found him in his favorite recliner. "Here you go," I told

him.

"Do you want me to cancel the pizza?" he asked. "You look like you could use a homecooked

meal."

"Pizza is perfect for tonight," I told him. "You don't need to cook for me."

"You know I like to cook for you," he said. "Since you've been traveling so much, I never get to cook for you."

"Another night," I told him. "I just want to sit here with you and catch up on what's been

going on here."

"Oh, I don't think anything that's happened here could come close to comparing to what you've got going on in your life," he laughed. "Can I hit that guy yet?"

"Brock?"

"Yes. I knew he was bad news. Never liked the guy. Way too smooth."

"I should have listened to you," I said with a sigh.

"Enough about Brock," he said. "That guy doesn't deserve your time or mine. Tell me about Australia."

"It was fun, but I didn't get to see much," I told him. "We have to take a trip there and

explore."

"What about Paris?" he asked. "I know you loved Paris."

I couldn't hide the smile. "It was amazing. I did get out a little while I was there. I got to eat at some very nice restaurants. The people were nice and so open. They were a little blunt, but I liked that they weren't afraid to tell me when something sucked."

"That's where the shoe company is based?" he asked.

I nodded and sipped my beer. "Yes. I had meetings with designers that all want us to sell

their shoes. I have so many samples being sent to my place. There is definitely a perk to

owning a shoe company."

"Have you thought any more about designing your own line?" he questioned.

"No, I don't have the fashion sense those designers do. I love shoes, but I don't know the

first thing about creating a new shoe design. I know my lane."

"You could be in any lane you wanted," he said with pride written all over his face. "You

could do anything you put your mind to. Look how much you've accomplished already."

"I'm getting the hang of owning a business," I told him. "I don't know if I could ever be

the one running the day-to-day operations."

"Don't sell yourself short," he said. "You got your mom's smarts. She was like that. She could see something in the store or on TV and come home and make it. She made you so many little dresses without a pattern. I know she was so excited to dress you up in those."

"I don't think I inherited her creativity," I said with a smile. "I know pretty things, but I

can't make pretty things."

"And that's why you are a successful businesswoman," he said. "You know what your customers want."

"Who knew all those days window shopping at the mall would pay off," I laughed. "Thank you for always taking me and letting me window shop."

"Those were some of the best days of my life," he said with a smile.

"I know you were never happy to walk around the mall after working all day."

"Nah, I didn't mind," he said. "Watching you point out what you liked and what you would wear with a jacket or a pair of shoes always made me smile. I thought for sure you were going to be a fashion designer."

"I played with the idea, but I really never had that creative gene."

"Did you handle the situation with that factory?" he asked.

I sighed and nodded. "Yes. I had to fire a lot of people. It was shut down for a week while myself and the new management I hired got things ironed out. It is going to slow production on the product, but I'd rather have it done right than deal with yet another scandal. I don't want to be on the news for running a sweatshop. I don't mind the nasty breakup crap, but I refuse to be the person that forces ten-year-olds to work."

"Good for you. I know that couldn't have been easy."

"I hated having to fire the old management, but they were just not good. The previous owner of the company either didn't know what was happening or didn't care. I care."

"Do you have to go out again?" he asked.

"Not right away," I said. "I plan on staying put for a while. Unless I get run out of town."

"Don't you pay any attention to the people calling you horrible names," he growled. "I'll tell you what, if anyone dares say anything to me about you and that asshole, I can't be responsible for my actions."

"Thanks, Dad," I said. "Now, let's get that pizza, and I'm ready to see who made it to the finals. I've avoided reading all the articles about the show."

"You haven't snuck a peek?" he teased.

"Nope. Have you?"

He slowly shook his head. "Nope. I've been rewatching my favorite show."

I rolled my eyes. "M*A*S*H , again?"

"You just can't deny it was the best show on TV," he said.

"It was a good show."

"Tell me more about Brock," he said in his serious voice.

"Dad, there's nothing to tell."

"I'm not going to lie," he said. "I've seen the news. Did he propose?"

"Dad! No! You cannot listen to that stuff. I told you, he just wasn't the man for me. We never saw each other. I didn't love him, and I know he didn't love me. He can whine and cry all he wants, but it's just for show. There's nothing he can do to me. He can keep spreading lies and telling people what he wants, but I know the truth. You know the truth. If you don't know something, you can always ask. You know I don't hide anything from you."

"Can't you tell people the truth about what's going on?" he asked.

"I'm not going to give them what they want," I said. "They're just trying to get a rise out of me. They want me to say something so they can pick it apart and twist it around."

"They'll get tired of you eventually," he said. "You need some starlet to get pregnant or another celeb couple to get hitched. You'll be yesterday's news."

"That's the goal," I said with a sigh.

"A fall from grace would be big news," he offered. "Maybe Brock," he laughed.

"We can only hope," I muttered.

"How'd you get here anyway?" he asked. "Usually, nosey Nora from across the street calls me anytime something seems out of the ordinary. If there had been a limo, she would have called."

"I didn't take the limo," I told him. "I hopped in a stranger's car when my limo got stuck in

traffic surrounded by photographers."

"You're lying."

I took another drink of beer. "I'm not. He was sitting in traffic beside the limo. He burned out his tires, creating a cloud of smoke, and chased off the photographers. He had a little sports car that could get through traffic a lot easier than the limo, so I got out of the limo and into the man's car."

"Rachel Marie Lore! You did not do that."

I grimaced. "I'm alive and in one piece," I reminded him.

"Who is this stranger?"

I couldn't help but tease him. "If I knew his name, he wouldn't be a stranger."

"Young lady, not only are you a beautiful woman, you're somewhat of a celebrity. You made yourself an easy target."

"I know, but I went with my gut instinct," I said. "You always told me to trust my gut."

"What'd your gut tell you about Brock?" he countered.

"My gut was obviously on vacation," I muttered.

"Please don't do that again."

"I won't," I said. "I know it was careless. In the moment, all I could think about was

escaping. I wanted to come home. It was a wave of homesickness so powerful I couldn't stop

it."

"You've been away a long time," he said with a sigh.

"I know. I'm sorry. How have you really been?"

"Just fine," he said. "I'm a little bored, if I'm being honest."

"Dad, you're retired. You're supposed to be golfing or fishing."

"I don't golf, and I did go fishing a few times, but I get bored," he replied.

"Do you want to travel? I would have loved for you to come along on my trip."

"Oh, I'm more of a homebody," he laughed.

"What about a trip up north?" I offered. "One of those quaint bed-and-breakfasts. You could go leaf-watching. I bet you might come across a single lady up there."

"Stop trying to set me up," he warned.

It never worked. I had to be very subtle with that situation. He had an aversion to dating.

According to him, my mother was his one and only and he could never love another. She died

giving birth to me, and it was still difficult for him to think about another woman in his life.

"Fine, but you need to get out and have some fun. You're retired."

"Trust me, I know," he groaned. "I've been thinking about opening a side business. I can't sit around all the time. I love that you made early retirement possible, but honey, I'm going stir-crazy."

I wanted him to enjoy his life after working so hard to support me. He was just not the kind of guy that enjoyed relaxing. "I think that sounds like a good idea," I told him.

"You could set your own hours and work as little or as much as possible."

That made his face light up. "That's what I was thinking! You sure you don't mind me working? I know you wanted me to go on cruises and all that stuff, but I'm just bored."

"Okay," I said. "I'll support you. You've always supported me."

The pizza was delivered a few minutes later, and we settled in to binge on our favorite show. It was almost midnight before we caught up on the season. I gave him a kiss on the forehead before going upstairs to bed. It felt good to be back in the same time zone with my father. It felt even better to be in my own bed. Well, one of my own beds. My bed at my house was bigger, but it provided the same comfort.

I closed my eyes, and Oliver's face was the first thing I saw.

It had been incredibly reckless to jump in his car, but I did trust my gut. Something about him made me feel safe. I didn't feel like he was going to drive me away, murder me, and dump me in the river. But I was going to be a little more discerning in the future.