Relief floods through me when I see a familiar face lingering in the waiting room.
“You know you can just come to the back,” I say with a smile. “You’ve been here a million times.”
“Hi to you too, son,” my dad says, wrinkle lines complementing his dimples. “You busy?”
“Nope,” I say, grabbing an extra chair and waving him back to the office. “I can talk for a few minutes.”
I tug off my hat and throw it on the pile of papers cluttering the desk. I’ve been telling Sal to clean this place for years, but he just mumbles something about me sounding like his wife and shuffles off to some corner.
“Sorry for the mess,” I apologize before collapsing into one of the chairs. My dad does the same, sitting across from me.
“I’ve known Sal since I was a kid. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He chuckles to himself. His smile slowly pulls taut, and I start to suspect this isn’t just a friendly pop-in.
I force my spine into a straight line and sit taller in my seat. “What’s up, Dad?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his salt and pepper tresses. He and my half-brother, Henry, share the same chocolatey brunette whereas I got my mom’s dirty blond hair. But hey, blondes do have more fun.
“I’ve been thinking about that loan you asked me to co-sign,” he says with a heavy tone. My shoulders slump forward, already sensing the way this conversation is going.
A few weeks ago, Sal told me he was retiring. I panicked—not knowing what I would do after he closed up shop. But then he asked me if I wanted to buy the place. My first thought was no way. I am only twenty-four, and that does not feel old enough to be a business owner. But then I started thinking about it more and all of the changes I’d make to the shop. With each idea sprung a new wave of excitement I couldn’t ignore.
There was only one problem. No bank was going to give me that big of a loan without a reputable co-signer.
“And?” I say, encouraging him to finish the thought.
“Listen,” he says in his thick, serious voice. The voice he always used to discipline me as a kid. “I’m going to be honest here and I hope you know it’s coming from a place of love. I will always be in your corner, no matter what. You know that, right?”
I nod my head, but keep my lips pressed together.
“Okay, then,” my dad says, swallowing hard. “I’m a business owner too and reputation is important in a town like this. I know you could run this shop with your eyes closed and do a damn good job at it, but ever since the incident last year, the town doesn’t look at you the same. And in order to run this business successfully, you need loyal customers.”
I bite the inside of my lip as heat rises to my face. “You know I didn’t do anything wrong. I told you everything.”
“I know and I believe you,” he says, placing his hands on his thighs, “but you know how gossip works in these small towns. Once people get an idea in their heads, it spreadsfaster than wildfire. And even if it isn’t true, some people just don’t care. They like their version of the story better.”
My gaze drops to the cheap tile peeling up on the floor. Something between shame and frustration curls inside me and my chest feels so tight, I can barely focus. I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my day, but I never thought one night would screw up my life this badly.
“So basically, you think if I buy the business I’ll tank it,” I mutter, not lifting my eyes.
My dad exhales slowly and leans forward. “I think you’ve got the skill set and the heart to turn this business into something Sal only dreamed of, but you’re setting yourself up for failure. Maybe a few years from now, once things quiet down, you can take on something like this, but it’s too risky right now.”
I nod, grinding my teeth. Everything he’s saying makes sense, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
“So that’s a no,” I say, forcing my lips to curl up to hide the hurt gnawing at my gut.
He frowns. I know this isn’t an easy conversation for him. “I’m sorry, Knox.”
I push up from the chair and turn away so he can’t see the anger starting to blister across my face. “It’s fine, Dad. I get it. I really do.”
“Knox—”
“What would it take?” I ask, stopping at the office entrance.
“What do you mean?” my dad counters, rising from his own chair.
I take a deep breath and turn back to face him. “What would it take to fix my reputation and change your mind?”
It seems like a loaded question. It took me years to develop my reputation as the charming boy next door, but it only took a few days for it all to come crashing down. What if I can prove them wrong? Prove everyone wrong.
