"I'd appreciate if you didn't talk shop with your father."
I skim my tongue over my top teeth. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does when someone brings up my dad. I get it. He's a big deal in Manhattan real estate and when a developeris working on something of this magnitude they want to keep it under wraps until they're ready to choose the broker they want to work with.
"I make it a point to never discuss business with him," I answer politely.
"Even this project?" She leans forward until her elbows are on the conference table. She's dressed all in white like an angel but this woman is far from that. She's ruthless. I've seen it myself these past few weeks as I've listened to her berate employees over the phone and push contractors into the corner over the smallest details.
"Any project I work on."
"Your father isn't the broker on any of your other projects, is he?"
I don't drop my mask. I keep it in place even though my lower jaw is about to fall into my lap.
"You did know that you were hired as part of his deal with us, right?" She practically sings the words out. Her voice raises an octave or two.
I nod, because I can't form even a single word in response.
"He wanted a say in the design elements, we didn’t agree with those terms so he suggested we hire you. I fought against it Brynn, but when my father saw what you'd done to your apartment, he was on board with the idea."
Cooper made it seem as if I landed this job strictly on my own merit.
"I'm not an idiot. I know that Fulton will try and influence the project using you as his mule, but I can't let that happen."
His mule? Seriously? My father rarely even talks to me.
"He thinks he knows the needs and tastes of our future clients better than we do. If it was up to me, I'd hire a younger broker, but Cooper insisted on Fulton. He's locked into this and so are you now, so let me be crystal clear."
I don't even blink an eye as I listen.
"Do not show your father any samples. Don't bring his ridiculous old-school ideas to me and try to sell them. I'll know it's coming from him and if it happens, I'll make damn sure that every other developer in this city is aware that hiring you is a big mistake."
"Understood." I snap open the leather portfolio in front of me. "I have a list of finishes I want to go over for the main bathroom. I'm ready if you are."
I watchhim as he crosses Madison Avenue. He moves fluidly, like a shark in the ocean. That’s who he is in this city. His black hair is now a peppered shade of gray, his blue eyes have always been darker than mine, but his smile is the same as it was when I was a little girl begging for his attention.
"Daddy," I call out to him with a wave of my hand.
He spots me immediately, a genuine smile taking over his handsome face. "Bernie, it's you."
Bernie.
The nickname he gave me in middle school when I burned a slice of bread every day for an entire week before I realized that there was a setting on the toaster that controlled the time.
"I need to talk to you," I say as I feel his arms circle me. He pulls me into a tight hug. I breathe in the scent of his cologne. It's the same cologne he's worn every day for my entire life.
His lips brush over my forehead. "You're more beautiful every time I see you. How is that possible?"
I think I'm in love, Daddy. He makes me feel more beautiful than I ever have felt before.
That's what I want to say but I don't. We've never discussed any of my relationships before. The only time he voiced an opinion on my personal life is when he told me he thought I'd regret ending things with Joel. He was wrong.
"Come up to my office." He gestures to the large building we're in front of. I arrived just moments before he did and when I looked back to the street, I saw him. Tall, debonair and drawing the attention of people in every direction.
At one time he was my hero. That's not the case anymore.
I follow his lead and let him guide me through the lobby and into the elevator of the skyscraper. He doesn't say a word as his eyes scan his phone and his fingers tap out messages to people who will undoubtedly pad his bank account.
His firm employs more than three hundred brokers who work in all five boroughs. His business is his life. It always has been and I suspect it always will be.
