She was still surprised he'd agreed so easily to his mom's request to help her. She often saw a hint of hesitation—laced with annoyance—on his face when his mom asked him to do something that involved her, but he never said anything negative toward her or his mom. In fact, he cleaned up the mess she left in the bathroom the other day, making room for her in the drawers. Rudy had been nothing but patient with her despite the way she'd disrupted his life.
Four hours later, her chocolate covered cinnamon bears were gone, and she'd made substantial progress. She was excited about the plans she'd made. It still surprised her that Hattie had given her carte blanche to reorganize the store and run the website and online sales the way she wanted.
The woman either knew it was the only chance to increase the store's revenue, or she recognized it was time to take her business into the twenty-first century and felt overwhelmed trying to do it by herself. Maybe both. At any rate, Eden was excited to have a worthwhile project to do.
She jumped when a knock sounded on the front door. Rudy and his parents weren't home, and she wasn't expecting anyone, but not answering the door felt rude. Her leg muscles protested as she rose and made her way to the door. Her phone dinged with a text notification as she opened the door to find the last person she expected to see here in Providence.
"Dad? What are you doing here?" She fell back a step.
"It's time to pack your bags and come home," her father said in his demanding business voice. The one that commanded respect and obedience.
Eden shook her head and took another step back. "How did you find me?"
He shrugged as he stepped into the house. "I went to Kennedy’s, and she told me you were staying here." He was far enough inside now that he closed the door behind him.
The text must be from Kennedy.
Why couldn't it have arrived a little sooner? Then she wouldn't have opened the door.
Her dad shook his head in disgust. "What are you doing here, Eden? You don't belong here with these people."
These people?
The Wheelers were amazing people. Some of the best she'd ever met. They were genuine and caring. She loved how Bill always kissed Alice when he came home from work and how they worked together in the garden.
His gaze drifted around the family room, and judging by his frown, he wasn't impressed.
"Who says I don't belong here?" she asked in a burst of courage.
"I raised you better than this." He swept his arm, motioning around the room.
Eden bristled. The Wheeler's house and furnishings were modest, sure, but they were comfortable and inviting. She liked it here.
Sucking in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. "You raised me to be egotistical and vain."
"Stop being dramatic. I raised you to take pride in who you are and what you have. You were born into privilege, and with—"
"With privilege comes responsibility," Eden finished, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
It's the same old song and dance.
Dad showed up and said the words to remind her who she was, and now he expected her to dance.
She'd hoped when she saw her father again, he would have forgotten the whole nonsense with Tristan and exclusivity for the company. Apparently, that wasn't the case.
Exhausted already, yet knowing she had a battle ahead of her, she sank onto the loveseat.
Her father sat opposite her on the end of the couch. "Laurent is growing impatient."
"Then you'd better make it clear to him there won't be an engagement." She folded her arms and stared him down.
"He's decided you two would only have to be engaged for six months. He thinks that would be long enough—"
"Dad, I won't do it. I detest pretty much everything about Tristan, and I won't let him—or Laurent—use me and make a fool of me."
"You can have whatever you want, if you'll just come home and do this one thing." He leaned forward. "I won't hound you to come back to Dupont Analytics anymore. I'll unlock your credit cards."
"Just stop—" Eden's voice caught as emotion clogged her throat.
