My mouth nearly dropped open at my father’s interjection.
“Leave her be, Elliott. I know there are days either you or Jason are running so much, you miss lunch or have it extremely late,” Marjorie defended.
“Yeah, well atCombs and Combswe take care of our employees,” Jay interjected.
Soon enough, the caterers Marjorie had hired served our salads, and conversation of my missed meal drifted away. Tori told us about the art classes she was taking, and their idea to hire a part-time, Spanish-speaking nanny. And despite Marjorie’s rule of no talking business at the dinner table, discussion of Xavier’s restaurants in Vegas came up as Marjorie asked about the design of the restaurants.
She talked about how her love of design almost made her pursue a degree in interior design, but ultimately it was her love of engineering and the challenge that’d won her over. The conversation easily flowed, even at one point coming around to the dance classes I took twice a week with Gabby. I’d invited Tori some time ago, but one of the kids had gotten sick that night, and she couldn’t make it.
By the time dessert was served, I’d encouraged both Tori and Marjorie to come one Wednesday night when they were available. I could barely believe my ears, but those words had definitely come from my mouth. And the most surprising part was that I didn’t regret inviting Marjorie. I genuinely liked her.
Maybe the best part about my realization was that I wasn’t questioning it either. I didn’t need to figure out what it was about her that won me over, or have to make up a story in my mind about devotion to my deceased mother as an excuse not to like Marjorie. The past was the past, and I was working on letting it go. In the back of my mind, I believed my mother wouldn’t have wanted me to hang on to old stuff anyway.
****
“Chanel, can I speak with you in my office?” my father asked as we continued our conversation and dessert out on the patio.
I blinked, a little surprised. Meanwhile, everyone around us continued with what they were doing, making me think most of them had already known my father would be asking to speak with me. I looked over at Xavier next to me, who tossed me an encouraging nod before returning to his conversation with Jason.
“Sure,” I agreed, standing and following my father into the house and down the hall to his office.
He waited for me to enter before closing the door behind me.
“Please, take a seat on the couch,” he requested, indicating the brown leather couch on the left.
He smiled when I gave him a wary look.
We both sat on opposite ends of the couch, facing one another.
“No sense in beating around the bush. Xavier’s already told me that he told you I requested your presence tonight.”
“He did.”
“He’s honest and direct. I’ve always liked that about him. I just wanted to officially ask you to work for the family firm.”
I sat back, blowing out the breath I’d been holding. The usual tension I felt whenever he or Jason asked about my joining the firm didn’t appear. My father and I had talked more lately, but he hadn’t brought up my joining the firm in a while. I remained silent, my mind working.
“It would be a big transition. I’m in the middle of a handful of cases right now, and I’ve only been with my current firm for about a year. I don’t want my clients to see me as a flake or feel like I bailed on them.” I was just thinking out loud about all the details I would have to consider, but my father responded.
“You would be more than welcome to bring over your clients. And you’re too good of an attorney to be seen as a flake. You’ve built a solid reputation in the nearly six years you’ve been practicing.”
I looked over at him. “I’d still practice under mom’s maiden name,” I warned.
He inclined his head. “That’s fine, but clients and much of the legal world already know you’re my daughter.”
I sighed, agreeing. Using my mother’s maiden name worked well enough in L.A. and when I first began practicing in Houston, but after that article, it was no secret any longer. I didn’t resent that either. As my father stated, I’d made a decent enough reputation on my own without use of the name Combs.
“How about this? I will give you until the end of next week. We’ll meet again, just you and me, and maybe Jason. We’ll have lunch and hash out the important details. Then, you can give us your answer?” The look of hope on my father’s face is what struck me.
“Why?” spilled from my lips without warning. “I mean, I know I’ve asked you this before, but it’s still difficult for me to wrap my head around it. Why now? Why do you want me to work with you guys? Jay’s there, and he’s doing a hell of a job. You reared him for this his whole life, practically. So what is it you gain from having me come on board?”
“I want my family together.”
That answer stunned me. My mouth nearly flopped open.
“One of my biggest regrets was not supporting your decision to attend law school and your subsequent career. I want to change that. I want you to feel part of our family.”
My mouth worked as I tried to speak, but a lump in my throat had formed. I’d wanted to hear these words from my father for years. I looked around his office as I tried to settle my unruly emotions. His desk and bookshelves caught my attention.
