be too preoccupied to keep a close eye on her. As I noticed Dad’s eyes starting to swell, I thought about what a bitch hindsight could be. I blurted, “We need to vacate the premises for a few days.”
His temples pulsed, his nose twitched, and he sneezed again. “The part for the air-conditioning will be here soon enough.”
“It’s not that,” I said, even though I wasn’t going to miss working in an oven. I glanced around. I needed backup. “Where’s Suz?”
He sneezed again. “Lunch.”
She probably skedaddled right after my father came back to the office. Smart woman.
He stepped around the boxes and into his office, stood in front of his massive desk, and looked around in utter shock. Not all that long ago, he’d had a heart attack. By the look of his red face, throbbing veins, and wild eyes, I could see another one looming.
I quickly explained about Sam.
Dad sat on the edge of his desk, and tried to stare me down. Ordinarily, it was a look that would have me backing quickly toward the doorway, but today with his watery, puffy eyes and that hickey on his neck, it di dn’t so much as make me wobble.
“Even if—and I stress the word if—Sam is a target,” he said, “that is no reason for us to close down this building. Others count on us. Not only our clients, but also Maggie and all her employees, and the cleaning crew. And the families of all those people. If we don’t work, they don’t work. If they don’t work, they don’t get paid. Not everyone has a nice cushy trust fund to fall back on.”
Oh, he was playing dirty.
I folded my arms across my chest. My internal temperature was soaring—hotter than the mercury outside, which was nearing one hundred degrees.
I knew he was right about the employees—we had a responsibility to them, but there was another issue at stake here. “Are you willing to risk the lives of all those people on the off-chance that you’re right? Because I’m not.”
“The arsonist strikes only at night. The building is closed at night. There is no risk factor.”
I hated when he used condescension to try and prove his point. It was almost as bad as when people raised their voices, thinking louder automatically meant accurate .
“No?” I asked. “Because even though we don’t work at night, several of Maggie’s employees do. And so does the cleaning crew.”
His shoulders stiffened. He hated being wrong.
I could play dirty, too, and hit him where it really hurt. His wallet. “Think of the liability factor. The lawsuits that could happen if someone was hurt—or heaven forbid killed—and we could have prevented it?”
One of the muscles in his cheek jumped. He dabbed at his leaky eyes with his handkerchief. “It is highly unlikely that will be the case. And tell me, what happens if the arsonist isn’t caught in a few days? Do we stay closed indefinitely?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe, but let’s take it one day at a time.”
“No. This is insanity. I will not have some pyromaniac chase me from my own company. We’re staying.” He sneezed. “And what possessed you to bring that cat in here?”
He wasn’t going to change the subject so easily. This conversation was far from over. “The cat is a long story, one we don’t have time for because we need to finish packing.”
“Lucy,” he warned.
I couldn’t believe he wasn’t seeing reason. Out of options, I did the only thing I could do in this situation. I played my trump card. “Don’t make me get Dovie involved.”
His mother, my grandmother, was a force to be reckoned with. The last thing Dad would want was to go toe-to-toe with her.
His puffy eyes twitched. “You wouldn’t,” he said darkly.
“Try me.” I knew Dovie would side with me in an argument...and more importantly, so did my father.
He let out a deep breath, crossed his arms, and said, “I’ve been thinking about a vacation anyway.”
Victory! I tried not to smile. “Oh? To where?”
“Your mother
His temples pulsed, his nose twitched, and he sneezed again. “The part for the air-conditioning will be here soon enough.”
“It’s not that,” I said, even though I wasn’t going to miss working in an oven. I glanced around. I needed backup. “Where’s Suz?”
He sneezed again. “Lunch.”
She probably skedaddled right after my father came back to the office. Smart woman.
He stepped around the boxes and into his office, stood in front of his massive desk, and looked around in utter shock. Not all that long ago, he’d had a heart attack. By the look of his red face, throbbing veins, and wild eyes, I could see another one looming.
I quickly explained about Sam.
Dad sat on the edge of his desk, and tried to stare me down. Ordinarily, it was a look that would have me backing quickly toward the doorway, but today with his watery, puffy eyes and that hickey on his neck, it di dn’t so much as make me wobble.
“Even if—and I stress the word if—Sam is a target,” he said, “that is no reason for us to close down this building. Others count on us. Not only our clients, but also Maggie and all her employees, and the cleaning crew. And the families of all those people. If we don’t work, they don’t work. If they don’t work, they don’t get paid. Not everyone has a nice cushy trust fund to fall back on.”
Oh, he was playing dirty.
I folded my arms across my chest. My internal temperature was soaring—hotter than the mercury outside, which was nearing one hundred degrees.
I knew he was right about the employees—we had a responsibility to them, but there was another issue at stake here. “Are you willing to risk the lives of all those people on the off-chance that you’re right? Because I’m not.”
“The arsonist strikes only at night. The building is closed at night. There is no risk factor.”
I hated when he used condescension to try and prove his point. It was almost as bad as when people raised their voices, thinking louder automatically meant accurate .
“No?” I asked. “Because even though we don’t work at night, several of Maggie’s employees do. And so does the cleaning crew.”
His shoulders stiffened. He hated being wrong.
I could play dirty, too, and hit him where it really hurt. His wallet. “Think of the liability factor. The lawsuits that could happen if someone was hurt—or heaven forbid killed—and we could have prevented it?”
One of the muscles in his cheek jumped. He dabbed at his leaky eyes with his handkerchief. “It is highly unlikely that will be the case. And tell me, what happens if the arsonist isn’t caught in a few days? Do we stay closed indefinitely?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe, but let’s take it one day at a time.”
“No. This is insanity. I will not have some pyromaniac chase me from my own company. We’re staying.” He sneezed. “And what possessed you to bring that cat in here?”
He wasn’t going to change the subject so easily. This conversation was far from over. “The cat is a long story, one we don’t have time for because we need to finish packing.”
“Lucy,” he warned.
I couldn’t believe he wasn’t seeing reason. Out of options, I did the only thing I could do in this situation. I played my trump card. “Don’t make me get Dovie involved.”
His mother, my grandmother, was a force to be reckoned with. The last thing Dad would want was to go toe-to-toe with her.
His puffy eyes twitched. “You wouldn’t,” he said darkly.
“Try me.” I knew Dovie would side with me in an argument...and more importantly, so did my father.
He let out a deep breath, crossed his arms, and said, “I’ve been thinking about a vacation anyway.”
Victory! I tried not to smile. “Oh? To where?”
“Your mother
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