Page 7 of Temporarily in Love

He grimaced. “Afraid so, honey.”

He ran a frustrated hand across his scruffy jaw. My dad’s age was starting to show. He was in his mid-sixties and looked tired from working his fingers to the bone in the bar all his life. His red hair had gone shock white when I was a teenager, but his face looked more tired now.

“Why?” I asked again.

“The business isn’t doing so well.”

I started calculating some things in my head. I had a lot of money. I lived in a massive house in Silicon Valley and worked eighty-plus hours a week. I could afford to help the bar and save it.

“How long are you in town for? When do you have to go back to work?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Yeah, about that.

I still hadn’t told my parents that Chad and I had broken up or that I had quit my job. I’d have no problem finding another job, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to work in tech anymore. Or even as a lawyer. I was exhausted and unhappy, and coming home might have been just what I needed.

“I don’t have to go back,” I said.

He eyed my left hand for the third time since I came over to the bar for lunch. “Honey, what’s going on?”

I sighed. “Chad cheated on me.”

“Bastard! Never liked him.”

“Me neither, honestly,” I said. “I can’t work for his company anymore, so I quit and cashed in on all the vacation time I never took.”

Dad narrowed his eyes. “That’s not the real reason you came home, though, huh? You actively avoid it.”

“Dad, you know how it is in this town. Everyone hates me for what I did to Declan MacGregor.”

Dad laughed. “I don’t think even the MacGregor Brothers hate you. Declan was in here last summer, and he looked more sad than angry.”

“Dad! That’s worse! I don’t want to know that he’s been pining after me all this time.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “He’s definitely not been pining, honey. He’s a grown-ass man, and you’re a grown-ass woman. You broke up fifteen years ago.”

Sixteen years ago, but I wasn’t going to correct him.

He prodded my arm. “Why are you home now? I know you’re not brokenhearted over that asshat.”

I had to laugh at that. My dad said what he was thinking at all times. That’s what I loved about him. It was so refreshing to be back on the East Coast, where people didn’t talk in circles like in the tech world.

“I don’t want you to sell the bar.”

“Honey, I have to.”

“Okay, what if I helped you with the finances? We could hire a marketing or PR firm. If you had the capital—”

“I’m not taking your money!”

“Dad! Sullivan’s been in the family for generations. I want it to stay that way. I love this bar. I’m willing to be a silent partner if you want. I want my kids to know their history. And my grandkids. I don’t want to see the family’s legacy disappear.”

He squinted at me. “You and your sister are annoying, you know that?”

“You raised us,” I teased.

Mom came out of the kitchen and smiled when she saw me sitting at the bar. We had strategically set this up so I could talk to Dad alone. Mom was looking her age as well. Her dark brown hair had silver streaks, and she looked tired. I hated that my parents were still working at this point in their lives.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you ready to go?” she asked.