I took a shower and fretted over the Nick situation, and then a sense of peace came over me. It was as if God was telling me everything would be okay, and I didn’t need to dwell on it anymore. I thought about the painting and Greg Gordan. On a whim, I decided to stop by his gallery before work. My job didn’t start until ten in the morning, so I would have some extra time before work. I didn’t have an appointment, but I was sure Mr. Gordan wouldn’t mind me stopping by. If he couldn’t see me, I would just have to schedule something for the future.
Not long after, I was on my way to the Greg Gordan Gallery, feeling a little crazy for being so impetuous, but the decision was already made and I planned on seeing it through. When I got there, Mr. Gordan was talking to a client and showing him several paintings. I took a seat in the lobby and waited until he finished.
He must have already seen me because after the client left, he approached. “Ms. Summerhill, I’m surprised to see you back so soon. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t make an appointment—I probably should have.” I ran a hand through my hair and cleared my throat. “Last night, I completed a new painting, and I wanted to show it to you.”
He looked skeptical, and I started to doubt my decision to act so impulsively. Maybe I should have waited until I had more than one painting to show him. He frowned, and I didn’t get the same friendly vibe I’d sensed the last time we’d spoken. “Let’s see what you have.” He didn’t invite me back to his office, so I took my painting out of its case and held it up the best I could.
He just stared at it for a long moment, and when he didn’t say anything, my heart lurched. I should have waited, and now I looked too overeager, too quick to please. He cleared his throat. “This is not like the other paintings you showed me.”
“True. You said to look for details, and I listened. You see these?” I pointed to the blue torches. “I patterned these after a germ called Aspergillus flavus. And these mushrooms, they’re Amanitas. I saw them on a hike I went on.”
He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the painting. “Interesting.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. This meeting was altogether different from the last one. Even his demeanor had changed.
“I’m not sure if this was what you were looking for,” I said, trailing off.
“I’ll give you a ninety-day trial. We’ll put this one up on the wall, and I’ll show it to a few clients who might be interested. If it sells, we’ll talk about you doing more.”
My lips curved upward, and it was all I could do not to jump up and down. “Thank you so much for giving me this chance. It means a lot to me.”
“You earned it, Abby. This is exactly what I was talking about.”
The rest of the day I was on cloud nine. My painting would hang on one of the walls at the Greg Gordan Gallery. I didn’t know if anyone would want to buy it, but the feeling of accomplishment was almost overwhelming. I couldn’t stop praying silently as I worked, thanking the Lord for His grace to me. At some point in the morning, I called Colin, and he was so happy for me—I could hear it in his voice—and he promised to take me out to dinner that night to celebrate.
When I got home, I thought about my dad and how much I wanted to share this news with him. The muscles in my shoulders tightened because I knew that if I tried to call, he probably wouldn’t answer. Still, there was this stubborn part of me that refused to give up. I picked up the phone and dialed his number.
Sharon answered. “Hey, Abby.” She must have recognized my caller I.D. “What’s going on?”
“Just thought I’d try again. I was hoping to talk to Dad.”
“Have you spoken to him this week? He said he was going to call you.”
“No, I haven’t heard from him.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. “That’s surprising. He had a work thing in San Francisco, and he said he would call you and arrange to meet up while he’s out there.”
“He’s in California? Now?”
“Yes, but he’s supposed to fly back home tomorrow morning.”
My heart squeezed in my chest, and it felt like a dagger was shredding it apart bit by bit. He’d come all the way out to California and hadn’t made the effort to see me or even pick up the phone. I blinked rapidly as tears filled my eyes, and I took a breath to calm myself. “So, you’re telling me he’s in California right now? I can’t believe he hasn’t called.”
“I don’t understand it,” she said, hesitating. “He said he would. He must be really busy. Try his work cell.” She gave me the number.
“Why didn’t you give this to me before? All those other times—maybe I could have gotten through to him.”
“He’s very selective about who he allows to have this number.”
“Let me guess, Rayna has it.”
“Well, yes, but she works for him so she—”
“I have to go. Thank you for helping me. I’ll give him a call.”
She said goodbye, and after I hung up, I wiped my eyes and dialed the number. If he was flying out tomorrow morning, I had to act quickly. The phone rang about five times before he answered.
“Hello.” There were people talking and loud music in the background.
“Dad is that you?”
There was a moment of silence and then, “Who is this?”
I blinked, stunned. “It’s your daughter. Abby. Who else would call you Dad?”
“Sorry, I was just surprised.” His voice softened. “How did you get this number?”
“Sharon gave it to me.”
“I don’t take personal calls on this phone. She shouldn’t have given it out.”
I covered my mouth with my hand as tears slid from my eyes and down my cheeks. “Don’t you want to talk to me? I’ve been trying to reach you for months.”
“I’m sorry about that. Work has been hectic…”
“Sharon said you’re in San Francisco. Where are you? It sounds like you’re out somewhere. Maybe I can meet you—”
“I’m at Rodolfo’s, an Italian restaurant in the city, but it’s a work meeting, and the department heads are here. Look, honey. I planned on scheduling a time to have dinner with you, but there hasn’t been time. We’ll have to plan something another day.”
“When?” I sat up straighter. “When are you free?”
“I don’t know. Give me a call in a few weeks, and I’ll figure it out then.”
“But I’m so close to you. If I leave right now, we’ll still have a few hours to talk. I can wait until you’re done with the work stuff.”
“This just isn’t a good time.”
Disappointment washed over me and left a painful residue. “I see.” I’d wanted to share about my painting but all the life and excitement had been sucked out of me.
A man said something I couldn’t understand in the background and a bunch of people laughed. “Hey,” he said, “I have to go. Give me a call in a few weeks.”
“Okay. Goodbye.”
He started to say something to the group but ended the call before I heard what he said. He didn’t even say goodbye, and it felt like the worst brush off ever—like he had better things to do than to spend time on the phone with me. My vision blurred as a stabbing pain filled my chest.
Tears dripped down my cheeks, and I covered my face with my hands and began to sob. His disregard for me was more than I could take.
I was so overcome and hurt by my father’s lack of interest that I didn’t pay attention to the time. When Colin arrived, I was in a state. I’d messed my hair up from running my fingers through it, and the skin around my eyes was red and puffy. All the years of being ignored by my father showered down upon me at that moment, and I didn’t know how to pick up the pieces, or if I even could.
Colin stood before me, concern showing in his eyes. I turned my face so he wouldn’t see my tears, but it was useless to try to hide.
“Abby, what happened?” He reached for me and pulled me close.
I wrapped
my arms around him and sobbed into his chest. “He’s here. He’s in San Francisco, and he didn’t even call me.”
“Who?” He rested his chin on top of my head and stroked the back of my hair. “Who is in San Francisco?”
“My father. He’s been ignoring my calls for months, and now I find out he’s nearby and didn’t try to see me.”
I felt his chest stiffen. “He’s here? In California?”
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying.”
“Do you know where he is? I’ll take you to him right now.”
“He’s at a restaurant, Rodolfo’s I think, but he says he can’t talk. There was a work meeting or something.”
“Let’s go anyway.”
I pulled away from him and stared at him in disbelief. “We can’t do that. He said—”
“When was the last time you saw your father?”
“It’s been years.”
“Then let’s go.”
“No, he’ll be mad.” I wiped my face and sucked in a breath. “And he obviously didn’t want to see me. Maybe it’s time I accepted that.”
Colin’s expression grew hard, and he looked like he wanted to punch something. “I’m going to find him and bring him back to you. He doesn’t get to do this.”
He said the words so forcefully, and he was so unbending in the delivery that my eyes widened. I’d never seen him this worked up before, and it was a strange thing to behold. He usually held his emotions in, and except for the day when he thought I’d swallowed a poisonous mushroom, he was usually a picture of calm. He definitely didn’t look calm at the moment.
“You’re being irrational,” I said. “He told me not to come—said he’d arrange something else in a few weeks.”
Colin took a breath and glanced at the floor. “Do you think that will happen? He’ll return in a few weeks?”
I bit down on my bottom lip and shook my head. “No.”
“Then tell him how you feel. He’s within driving distance, so this might be your only opportunity to speak to him face-to-face for a long time.”
“I don’t know.” Twisting my hands together, I moved to the other side of the room.
“I wish I’d said something to my father, and now it’s too late. Abby, it’s not too late for you. Talk to him.”
“What if everything blows up, and we make it worse?”
“Can it get any worse than this?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but probably not.”
A few minutes later, I found myself in the car with Colin, driving to Rodolfo’s, and working hard to gain control of myself. I really, really hoped this wasn’t a big mistake.
Chapter 20
Colin
I reached across the seat and took Abby’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be there with you the entire time.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything, and guilt pricked my conscience. Maybe I’d pushed too hard in my attempt to help. “We don’t have to do this,” I said. “I don’t want you to feel like I bulldozed you into it.”
“No, I think you’re right. This might be the only opportunity I get to talk to him in person for a while.”
I nodded, and we continued in silence. In the time that Abby and I had been dating, I’d never once seen her this upset, and it shook me up. Every fiber of my being wanted to comfort her in some way, bring the world to her feet if I could. The words, “I love you,” nearly came out of my mouth a few times, but I managed to stop myself before I made that declaration. This wasn’t the right moment and hearing those words might distress her even more if she wasn’t ready. Right now, we had to focus on her dad.
My GPS took us straight to Rodolfo’s, and when I pulled up, I gave the keys to the Valet. Abby and I got out of the vehicle and lingered at the doorway. “Do you know what you want to say to him?” I asked.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it in the car.”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s do this together.”
We walked in and scanned the crowded room. Music played over the loudspeakers, and waiters and waitresses moved about quickly, taking care of people’s orders.
“He’s right there,” Abby said, pointing to the corner of a room where a group sat at a large table. “He’s the one all the way to the left.”
“Do you want me to approach him first?” I asked.
“No. He’s my father. I should do this.”
She stepped ahead, and I followed, still holding her hand. When we arrived at the table, we stood right behind her father and waited for a second. No one seemed to notice because it was crowded and the noise level was a distraction.
Abby cleared her throat. “Daddy.”
He continued to face forward, and that was probably because he didn’t hear her. She spoke louder this time. “Daddy.”
He turned and jerked in his seat when he saw her. “Abigail? What are you doing here? I thought I told you not to come.”
She stiffened, but held her head high, and I was proud of her for not wilting under the pressure. “You did, but I came anyway. There’s something I need to say to you.”
A few people in her father’s group looked our way curiously, but they went back to their conversation after a moment.
“Why couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”
I winced. No hug, no greeting from him, no telling her he missed her. He was a lot like my own father.
“I’ve been trying to reach you for months,” she said, “and you haven’t returned my calls. It feels like you don’t care. I’m not saying that you don’t, but it feels that way.”
He pressed his lips together and glanced at the floor, troubled. “I’m sorry. It was always my intention to call you, but work has taken up much of my time.”
“It really hurt when I found out you flew all the way out to California and didn’t attempt to see me,” she said. “I’ve been trying to get your attention, your love, since I was a kid. When are you going to stop what you’re doing and make me a priority for once? Right now, work and Sharon and even Rayna are more important to you.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, and he straightened. “You’re not a child anymore, Abigail. It’s time to grow up and act like an adult. We don’t live in the same state—that’s not my fault. I have a lot on my plate, and I don’t need you trying to make me feel guilty.” He glanced at the others at his table and then turned back to us. “We’re having a work meeting and you need to leave.”
She opened her mouth and closed it, and I could see she was trying to work out what to say next. “Fine.” She turned to leave and pulled at my hand to follow.
“Go ahead and wait at the door,” I said. “I’ll be right there.”
“What are you going to say?” she whispered.
“Something he needs to hear.” I stared at her father for a few seconds, taking his measure. He didn’t look like an evil man—just distant. Hard. Focused on work above all else. “Mr. Summerhill, you might not grasp it right now, but you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You crushed your daughter by turning her away like that. She loves you, and she wants a relationship with you. Instead of meeting her halfway, you have effectively pushed her to the side. One day you’re going to wake up and realize that the most precious part of you, your own flesh and blood, has moved on with her life, and there won’t be room for you anymore.”
His forehead creased, and he eyed me with disdain. “Who are you?”
“I’m the man who’s been dating your daughter.” And I love her. “It didn’t take me long to see how special she is.”
“You’re out of line,” he said, lips pursed together. “You have no right to say any of this to me.”
“Someone has to.” I let out a breath. “It’s not too late to fix this, but one day it might be.”
Everyone at the table grew quiet, and I realized I’d spoken so passionately that my voice had risen above the noise. It was time to make my exit. “Please think about what I said.”
I did an about-face and nearly bumped into Abby. She hadn’t gone to wait at the door as I’d suggested, and she must have heard everything.
She looked up at me with tortured eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I…”
Tugging on my hand, she nodded in the direction of the entrance. “Come on.” She wanted me to follow her, so I did, knowing I might have upset her by speaking so frankly to her father. Maybe I should have remained silent and let them work it out on their own, but I hated seeing her father treat her like that.
We walked outside, the cold, damp air hitting us on our faces. Cars drove by, splashing through puddles since it had rained earlier. People crowded the streets, enjoying the nightlife of San Francisco, but no one paid attention to us. Abby lifted up off her toes and planted a kiss on my cheek. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “I can’t believe you defended me like that.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, relieved she wasn’t angry, and I enfolded her in my arms. “Why wouldn’t I defend you?”
She shrugged and pulled away, looking down sadly. “I don’t know.”
I ran a finger lightly along her cheekbone and pressed a kiss there. “I will always defend you, Abby. Always.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and her bottom lip trembled. “I don’t deserve you. I overlooked you when we first met. What if you hadn’t called back to get dating tips? I would have missed out on the most important love of my life.”
Now was the time. I needed to tell her I loved her. She was ready to hear it—I could see it in the way she peered up at me with emotion in her eyes, and it wasn’t just gratitude I saw there—it was pure joy, pure hope. A pure heart overflowing with love.
“Abby, I…” I wanted to say it, but my mouth would not cooperate, and I couldn’t get the words out. Fear clutched at my throat and tightened its grip, refusing to let go. Once I crossed this line, I would open myself up for pain, and I had a feeling it would be unlike any other pain I’d yet to experience.
Blind Date with a Billionaire Professor (Blind Date Disasters) Page 19
