“And eighty.” At Avery’s raised brow, Dylan continued, “We sound like we’re eighty years old.”
“We totally do.” I laughed. The stress and worry from the fight with Cade and the lack of sleep eased.
“As long as people don’t expect stodgy old men when they walk in and get twenty-something year old, beautiful women.” Avery gestured at us.
“We’re finally doing it. We started our firm.” Avery smiled with pride as she looked back and forth between us.
“We need to celebrate.” Dylan clapped her hands together.
“Should we go out tonight?” Avery asked.
I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to forget last night, but I had other things to deal with too. “What about painting these walls and celebrating afterward with champagne?”
“Ugh. I don’t like the sound of that.” Dylan held up her perfectly French-manicured hands.
“We can’t afford to hire painters, especially if we’re paying for ads. We can deal with the carpet for now.” Avery tipped her head slightly toward Dylan as she tried to reason with her.
“Fresh paint on the walls will make a huge difference.” I gestured at the holes in the walls left behind by the previous occupants and the scuff marks on the bottom half of the wall, most likely from bags rubbing against it.
“Fine. I’m in charge of wine and food.” Dylan laid her hand flat on her chest before pointing at us. “You two are in charge of paint and supplies.”
Avery looked pointedly at me. “Make sure you keep any receipts for supplies. They’re all business expenses.”
“Aren’t you coming with me to get the supplies?” I asked.
“You’re the one with the contractor-boyfriend.” Avery smirked.
I opened my mouth then closed it. I had a boyfriend. I wasn’t so sure if I did today.
Avery rested her elbows on her desk and leaned toward me. “Uh oh. Did it not go well with his parents?”
They both waited for an answer. I didn’t want to tell everyone about our fight, but Avery was a friend and Dylan was fast becoming one. “No, dinner with his parents was great.”
“Then what happened?” Her face was pensive. Her hands were clasped in front of her.
“My dad called on the way home.” The sound of my voice hung in the air between us.
“You didn’t answer, did you?” Avery’s face fell. “Ugh. You did, didn’t you?”
Dylan looked uncertainly between us.
“He called several times in a row. I thought something was wrong.” My excuse was lame. Even I knew that.
“There’s never anything wrong.” Avery shook her head before explaining to Dylan, “Her dad likes to control everyone around him, especially his kids.”
“Dad wants me to go back to New Orleans to work for him. His business is in trouble and he needs my help.”
Shaking her head, Dylan shifted in her chair. “Nope. Not happening. We need you here.”
“I agree. I have too much invested in the firm.” It wasn’t just money. My sense of self and independence was wrapped up in this office and this town. I had to do this for myself. I wouldn’t let him talk me into going back. Last night, it hurt that Cade thought I was too weak to resist my dad. He thought I’d cave, but I was stronger than that. At least I was now. It would take more than my dad’s presence or his threats to get me to leave these women, who were becoming my friends, in the lurch.
“He has to respect the fact you started your own business in a new town,” Dylan said.
“You would think so, but he wants me to work for him and he won’t settle for anything less. He claims this merger will go through and save the business if I smooth things over with Layton. Plus, he likes me close and—"
“Under his thumb,” Avery added.
“A bad combination,” Dylan said.
“Exactly. Anyway, my dad wanted me to date his friend’s son, Layton Black. Back then, I did what my dad wanted me to do.” I played the part of the dutiful daughter even when I formulated a plan to escape.
Avery raised her brow at Dylan. “Then the asshat proposed in the middle of a charity event after they’d only been dating a few months.”
“Why do men think public proposals are romantic?” Dylan asked.
“I realized he never cared about me. He wanted a show and a trophy wife. It was that moment I realized I wanted more. I didn’t want to be under my dad’s thumb or Layton’s. That’s when I took Taylor’s advice to apply here.”
“Good for you, but why is Cade upset with you?”
“Is he worried about another public proposal?” Avery’s forehead wrinkled.
“Ha! No, he wants to go with me to support me.”
“And you told him no?” Avery asked, her face serious.
“I want to face my dad on my own. Why does everyone think I’m too weak to do this? That I’ll fall right back into my old ways?” I shifted in my seat, looking from Dylan’s face to Avery’s.
“We don’t think you’re weak, but this is your dad. Every kid wants to please their parents. Deep down, you want his approval. Don’t you think it’s time you did what was right for yourself?” Avery asked.
“Of course. That’s why I’m here.” But what was right? Was I pushing Cade away?
“But you continually allow yourself to be sucked back into what’s going on in New Orleans. If your father’s business fails—it’s not on you. If your father throws a tantrum—you don’t need to run to him.” Avery leaned her elbows on her desk.
“We’ll raise funds for Kids Speak, don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Dylan’s voice was steady. Her eyes focused on me.
“Cade should support you no matter what you decide,” Avery said gently.
“It felt like he issued an ultimatum last night.” When Avery’s eyes narrowed, I added, “Not in so many words. But he withdrew from me when I insisted on going by myself to the gala. He said he’d be there for me when I was ready.”
“So, talk to him. Tell him you’re ready
