Page 39 of Secret Offer
Not that I’mnothoping for that. But I’d be okay with just talking again.
When he doesn’t respond, I look over at Mom again and try to strategize. Part of the reason I suggested the mani-pedis to begin with was because I was hoping to talk to her about my future role at the Tisdale Corporation. Not in a specific way—I need Dad for that—but in a more general sense.
I need her to be on my side, supporting me, so she can help persuade my dad to stop clamming up and changing the subject every time I mention the whole job thing. I’m starting to worry that he’s got nothing better in store for me than some kind of mailroom position.
“So, um. Have you and Dad been enjoying the island, or are you ready to get back home?” I ask, trying to approach the topic as casually and slowly as possible so she doesn’t immediately cut me off.
“Oh, I think it’s been good to get away,” she says. “We haven’t taken a family vacation since…well. It’s been a long time.”
That surprises me. It’s the closest she’s come to mentioning Sophie in months.
“Good. I’m glad,” I say, patting her hand. “Dad seems like he’s in a better mood, too. Must be all that golfing.”
She sighs. “I’ll bet it is. I think it’s boring, honestly, but he loves it. Leave it to a man to get excited about whacking a tiny ball into a tiny hole eighteen times in a row.”
We both laugh.
“I’ve only gone a few times, but the course is very nice,” she adds. “Lots of palm trees and tropical plants. You can’t forget you’re in the Bahamas, even when you’re in a sand trap.”
“Maybe I’ll join him one morning.”
“He’d love that.”
The two pedicurists get to work exfoliating our feet and calves with a fragrant lemon scrub. For a few minutes, I settle back with my eyes closed and let my mind go blank. Then myphone buzzes in my lap, and my pulse jumps when I see it’s a text from Sebastian.
You have no idea. She was supposed to arrange limousine transportation from the airport for one of our VIPs, and guess what mode of conveyance picked him up?
A smile twitches at the corner of my mouth.
A clown car? A pedicab? A camel?
A party bus, complete with a stripper pole inside. It was an unfortunate mix-up. The VIP was not amused.
I can’t suppress my laugh.
Sounds like a majorly missed opportunity to me.
When I peek over at Mom, I find her staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide open, like she can’t stand to let her guard down enough to enjoy having lotion massaged into her feet.
Tucking my phone against my hip, I ask, “So, um…has Dad mentioned anything about my job?”
“Not really,” she says noncommittally.
“Oh. I mean, I’m sure he’s planning to onboard me as soon as we get back to New York, it’s just…whenever I try to bring it up, he gets all fussy about how we’re on vacation and we’re not supposed to be thinking about work. Even though I’ve caught him checking emails on his phone.”
She turns to me with an assessing gaze. "You know, Blair, I’ve been in your shoes. Don’t forget, I used to be in the corporateworld, too. I’ve been hungry to climb the ladder and prove myself. So I understand what you’re going through. How eager you are to make your way in the world."
“Really?”
“Of course. But I also want what’s best for you, and I can tell you that being a high-powered executive with a corner office and two secretaries just isn’t what it’s made out to be. I spent years of my life practically living at work. I barely made time for anything else, not sleep or proper nutrition or friends or hobbies. In hindsight, I realized how miserable I was, but at the time I didn’t even know it.”
I nod. I’ve heard this before.
“Yeah, but then you met Dad when you were thirty-two and you got married and had So—had a family. And you slowed down. In a good way. And then you and Dad formed the Tisdale Corporation and you figured out how to have work-life balance. Right?”
Another text comes in, and I glance down and tilt my phone just enough to read Sebastian’s message.
How about you? How’s your day going so far?
