Perfectly Ms. Matched(8)
Impatient as always, he steepled his fingers, then raised his brows.
Her signal to start begging.
Damn Chad for saying that earlier, but he was right. That was what it was going to take, but it’d be worth it in the end. She’d show her father that she was a success yet.
A few moments into her well-rehearsed spiel, her father raised a hand for her to stop. “One question, please. Am I your last resort? Do you have any other means of obtaining this money without my help?” She’d swear he was fighting a grin. He’d just love being her last resort, wouldn’t he?
“Nothing really viable. But I’m not asking you for money, Dad. I just need your co-signature on the loan. You’ll never have to hear of it again, because I’m going to pay it all back.”
“So, Chad Jenks didn’t offer to pay you to rehab him? Don’t tell me you’re so desperate you’ve resorted to lying to your father. Chad told me himself.”
Chad knew the family dynamics and used it to his advantage. Another excellent reason to tell the man to take a hike. “I said I had no other viable options. I’d have a hard time expanding my business and helping Chad at the same time.”
“Why? You only serve breakfast and lunch. You have every afternoon free. It’d look impressive on your résumé, Joann. Chad is a very big star.”
Jo wasn’t sure who was a bigger threat to her sanity. Chad or her father. Her dad could never understand why she’d own a restaurant that didn’t serve dinner instead of catering to the downtown working crowd. “I spend my afternoons baking fresh breads and desserts for the next day and ordering supplies, among other things. You must’ve missed my review in last Sunday’s paper. It said I served the best breakfast and lunch in the downtown area. That’s what looks good on my résumé.”
Her father shook his head. No doubt disappointed with her answer. “You need to give this little restaurant up and go back to a solid profession. That accident wasn’t your fault. I looked at the autopsy report myself.”
Of course he’d gone behind her back and checked up on her.
It still haunted her. All the memories came rushing right back of how Jed Dawson had begged her to push him to his limits, to get him back out on the slopes in time for the first big race of the season. They’d worked out every day for three months, and he’d become a good friend. She’d curled up on the couch with a warm mug of hot cocoa on race day, ready to cheer him on, but instead she’d watched him die. He’d hit a rut going sixty miles an hour. His knee, the one she’d helped rehab, the same knee she was so sure was as good as new, gave out. Failed him. He’d lost control and slammed into a tree.
Had she rushed his treatment? Had she built up the right muscles around his knee to withstand that kind of strain? She’d never know for sure if she was to blame, but she’d given her notice the next day.
“I’m not going back to PT work. End of story.”
“I understand you love to cook. And that’s great. But it’s a hobby. I think you should go back to being a PT and let a manager run your restaurant.”
“I need to run my restaurant the way I know it needs to be run, Dad.”
“I’m sorry, but I won’t cosign a loan with you for that. If you want to start your own PT practice, I’ll be happy to loan you all the money you’ll need. At a fair interest rate, of course.”
Of course.
“How many boob jobs or tummy tucks does it take for you to make the kind of money I need? Two, three? It’s a drop in the hat to you. Pocket change. Why would you want me to lose my restaurant after all the hard work I’ve done to make it a success? And why would you ask me to spend time with a man who hurt me as deeply as Chad has just to prove your point? I tried to do it your way, and I was miserable. Doesn’t my happiness count for anything?”
“Of course. But anyone can cook. You need to give being a PT another chance. It’s a good, solid profession.”
He didn’t understand. “Never mind, Dad. I have to go.” Disappointed she couldn’t make him see that baking and owning her own café was the better choice for her, she rose and headed for the door.
When her hand was on the doorknob, her father called out, “I don’t want your mother to hear of our discussion today, Jo. Her days consist of spending my money. She’d cosign your loan if you asked, but I’m forbidding you to do so.”
She’d never put her mother in a bad spot with her dad. “Mom spends lots of money because you work too much. Money is the one thing that gets your attention. Sorry to have taken time from your busy day.” Jo softly shut the door behind her, ignoring the curious stares from the nurses.