Sarina nods. “You know your limits. It’s still sad, though. Miles was…isso into you. You two could have had something special.”
I exhale. I thought so too.
Sarina and I stay and chat a little longer. It’s… weird. Honestly, it’s a little awkward. After having a non-relationship for so long, it’s going to take a while for things to be chill between us. But I can tell she’s trying, and so am I. She’s dating Cara now, and I really don’t want to lose my friend. And also? It’s kind of cool to see another side of Sarina. She’s so different when she’s not with her mother. She’s still kind of quiet, but she’s also really sweet, and kind of… optimistic. She only has nice things to say about anyone. We could have—shouldhave—done this years ago. I could have had a sister, something I always wanted. I decide that now, no matter what happens between her and Cara, and me and Miles, I’m determined to get closer to my stepsister.
When I leave the café, one thing that Sarina said stands out in my mind. She said my father… her stepfather… is a pretty understanding guy. Honestly? That comment made me feel like crap. I understand that people can be different with different people, but why does Sarina get the understanding, supportive stepfather, while I get the judgy, distant father?
He’smyfather, and he’s the one behind all of this. He encouraged Mom to sell her building and asked me to move in with him so Mom would agree. He’s friends with the condo developer and referred Miles,myboyfriend, for that job. I get why Mom had to sell her building. I don’t like it, but I understand it. And I knew Miles needed an internship badly. But why didn’t my father tell me? Or at least talk to me?
On a whim, instead of going home, I head to the subwaystation and take the subway and then a bus all the way to Vaughan to my father’s office. It’s time I had a talk…alone… with my father.
I have only actually been to my father’s commercial real estate office once—not long after he and his staff moved into this space. The office was boring—stark, white, and without personality. As I walk into the second-floor office now, I’m not surprised that it looks the same. Well, maybe there’s new artwork—all done in pale pastels—but for the most part, it’s white walls and white furniture. NAHEED MERALI REAL ESTATE BROKERAGE is printed in black letters on the white wall behind the reception desk. The receptionist is young—maybe in her early twenties—and has long highlighted hair and wears a formfitting blouse. She frowns when she sees me, clearly thinking that I’m not supposed to be there.
Maybe I should have dressed up for this, but I didn’t know I’d be coming here today. I’m wearing pink and black plaid pants and a pink cropped T-shirt that says CLASS OF ’82 on it in pink glittery script.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asks suspiciously.
“I need to see Naheed Merali,” I say.
“Mr. Merali is very busy. Do you have an appointment?”
“No. But… he’s my father. Can you see if he has a few minutes?”
She looks shocked when I say he’s my father. Which… why? I know Sarina sometimes works here. But Dad has mentioned hisotherdaughter to his staff, right?
The receptionist still doesn’t say anything. “Just ask him if he as a few minutes for Sana,” I say.
She motions for me to sit on one of the white chairs inthe lobby. Then I see her pick up a phone. Hopefully to call Dad and not security to have me kicked out.
After a few minutes Dad comes rushing into the lobby from one of the offices. “Sana, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
I stand. He’s wearing dress pants and a blue dress shirt. No tie. I’m not sure if I expected him to wear a suit and tie to work, because that would be ridiculous in this day and age. But still. It feels weird to see my father at work. To see him without Noureen is strange too. “I… I needed to talk to you. Do you have a second?”
He looks at the receptionist. “Farzana, James Andrews is coming in at one thirty. Can you ask him to wait until I’m done with my daughter? We won’t be long.”
She nods but looks surprised that Dad is willing to speak to me. I wonder if she thought I was lying when I said he was my father. I want to give this woman anI told you solook, but instead follow my father down the hallway to his office.
Dad’s office is sleek and white and looks like the reception area. He indicates a leather chair across from his desk, and I sit. He sits at a tall office chair across from me.
Despite my issues with the man, I can’t deny that Dad is quite handsome for a fifty-year-old. He’s slim and fit because he still plays on a recreational soccer team and runs daily. And he clearly cares about his looks—his skin is smooth, and his hair is always shiny with no grays showing.
He’s like the polar opposite of my mother, who doesn’t care at all about the errant gray hairs popping up in her curls. Honestly, I have no idea why the two of them ever thought it was a good idea to marry each other.
“Okay, Sana? What do you need from me?”
“Why do you assume I need something from you? Maybe I just wanted to see my father.” I mean, I did need something from him, but it’s rubbing me the wrong way that he thinks that’s the only reason I would come see him. Even if it’s true.
“Well, I would love to see you more often. But you’ve never come here before. Do you need money?”
“Of course not. I have a job, remember?”
He sighs. “I have an important meeting soon. Maybe we can talk on the weekend. We can move up our brunch date. Why don’t you call Noureen—”
“Dad, why do we only see each other with Noureen? Why don’t you ever want to do something with just us?”
He stares at me.
This is a disaster. I’m feeling raw from today and yesterday’s revelations, and now my father’s questions are putting me on edge. I take a breath. “Thereisa reason I’m here. I heard that you’re the one who convinced Mom to sell her building.”
