Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Oh. He really does care. This is what I wanted when I moved to Cape May, and now here it is. The proof that my father truly cares for me, despite the years apart and unanswered questions between us. I force myself to sit up straighter and give him an honest answer.
"Thank you, Dad. I'm sorry, I know I've been a mess."
His face softens. "It's okay. As long as you're moving forward, it's okay to take your time. Just don't shut down completely."
Giving him a guarantee isn’t something I can do, but I meet him in the middle. “I’ll try my best.”
The following morning, I get a call from a number I don't recognize. Curious, and with a sliver of hope that it might be Derrick, I answer.
"Is this Alina Brant?" an unfamiliar male voice asks.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"This is Bruce Rentschler from RenTech. I'm calling regarding the email we sent you a few days ago with the job offer. We never heard back from you, and I just wanted to check-in. Your portfolio was stellar, and we'd really like to have you on the team."
My stomach drops. The email he's talking about, the job offer that should have been the highlight of my year, is what led me down the path of leaving Derrick. "Sorry sir, it's just…" Then, his words land. "Wait, did you say my portfolio? I was under the impression Derrick Brant asked you to hire me. I never sent you my portfolio."
"You're partially correct. Derrick is an old colleague of mine, and he sent me your portfolio and resumé and told me to have a look. We offered you the job based on your work, not anything Derrick had to say." He chuckles. "I like Derrick, but not enough to hire a random person just because he asks."
My jaw hangs open, and my heart pounds. This changes everything.
"In fact,” Bruce continues, “Derrick hasn't been in contact with me since we sent the offer. I was hoping you were still interested, but if you aren’t—”
I'm not paying attention to any of Bruce's words now. All I can think about is Derrick.
I told him not to contact me, and he listened. And even though he kept a lot of information about his past and his money from me, he was always honest with what he felt. I wasn't used to the kind of open emotional honesty he displayed when we were together. He told me what he wanted and made his expectations clear—even if those expectations were a little overbearing.
But while he did contact Bruce, it was only to give him my resume and portfolio, just like I would have done myself. RenTech didn't offer me the position based on a request from Derrick; the decision was theirs. All Derrick had done was believe in me and let my work speak for itself.
The realization is a weight lifted off my chest, and the last lingering shred of anger fades away.
"Mr. Rentschler?" I interrupt his rambling about the job. "I'd love to attend the virtual interview."
When the call is over, I sit cross-legged on my bed. I pull out my phone, hesitating as I stare at the screen. If I message him, there's no turning back. Derrick is an all-in kind of guy.
And I guess I’m an all-in type of girl, too.
I tap the contacts icon and pull up his name. My thumb hovers over the message button. It's only three little taps, but it's such a big step.
Then I press it.
Me: Hi.
A couple of minutes go by, and I start to wonder if I'm making a mistake when my phone pings.
Derrick: Angel?
I almost smile.
Me: Yeah. It's me.
Derrick: Are you ready to come home?
It's a simple question, but one that holds so much weight.
Dad's house has become a prison for the last week, and all I've wanted was to go back to the house on the hill—to be with Derrick again. But I needed some space, some time to process everything. Now, I know the truth.
Me: Yes.
The response is immediate, and I can't help but laugh.
Derrick: First we need to talk. Meet me on the beach across from Sage and Salt tonight at 8pm.
I'm not going to lie; it stings that he's not coming to pick me up, but I guess I should have expected that.
Me: Okay. See you then.
I know I need to apologize to him as well. He was wrong for keeping things from me, but I didn't make it easy for him, bolting the second I discovered who he truly was.
I'm not a materialistic person, and I don't care who he is now or who he was before he came to Cape May. All I care about now is if Derrick Anders wants to try again with me, to let me be his—mind, body, and soul.