All Wound Up
Page 38
“I did a double shift last night, then took a nice nap. I thought I’d pop in.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He put his arm around her. “It’s a good series to watch.”
He led her over to the bar, where she had the bartender fix her a Bloody Mary. She sat down at one of the front tables with her dad, a spot with a great view of the on-field action.
“Tell me how work is going,” he said.
“Busy. Intense. Brutal at times. Had a rough night last night.” She told him about her double shift.
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “What you do isn’t for everyone. It takes someone with a lot of heart—and grit—to handle it. You’re tough, Aubry. A lot tougher than most people. It’s why at first I thought you could handle this business. But when you gravitated toward medicine, I knew you could do that as well.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Sometimes all she needed were her father’s pep talks. He was good at being frank with her. In college, when she’d been down about how hard the workload and pressure were, he’d reminded her she was smart, and that she could handle anything. He’d also told her the Rosses weren’t wusses, and she needed to rise to the challenge. He wasn’t one to coddle his only daughter. So while her mother had always given her a shoulder to lean on, her father had given her tough love.
Sometimes she’d needed both.
He sat and studied her. “You have dark circles under your eyes.”
Then again, he wasn’t always complimentary when she needed it the most. “Like I said—double shift yesterday. Those are the worst.”
“But you love it.”
As if she needed convincing. She laughed. “Yes. I love it. It’s everything I imagined it would be.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “You can handle it, Aubry. No matter what they throw at you, even when it’s awful, you’ll handle it.”
She had always loved her father’s confidence in her. “Yes, Dad. I can handle it. Where’s Mom tonight?”
“It’s her night with the ladies from the country club. They’re going to one of the casinos.”
“Uh-oh. Spending more of my inheritance, huh?” she asked with a wink.
“Yup. I guess you’re just gonna have to go make your own way in life, kiddo.”
She laid the back of her hand against her forehead. “Oh, woe is me.”
He smiled and put his arm around her. “Come on. Let’s grab a bite to eat before the game starts. You can tell me more horror stories about work.”
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about work, so she engaged her father in discussions about the team, as well as Ross Enterprises. She’d been involved in the company since she was old enough to understand the rudimentary workings of what both her parents did for a living. And while she’d always found it fascinating—especially the sports angle—it had never dulled her love for medicine.
She could still appreciate her father’s passion for the game, something he’d instilled in her at an early age. She’d mostly been teasing Tucker when she told him she preferred football, though that was a sport she enjoyed as well.
“The team looks solid this year,” she said to her dad while they watched pregame warm-ups.
“They do. They barely missed the playoffs last year. I have high hopes for them this season.”
“You’ve filled the team with talent, Dad. Hot bats and stellar pitching.”
Her father smiled. “And here I thought you were too busy with your career to pay attention to the team.”
“Oh, I pay attention. You’ve made some fine additions the past couple of years. I know exactly who plays for the team. I might not have time to come to every game, but I catch up on the scores and updates.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Wait till you see Tucker Cassidy pitch tonight. He’s a real phenom with a wicked curveball.”
At the mention of Tucker’s name, her stomach did a slight tumble. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Best acquisition we’ve made in years.”
“I can’t wait to watch him.” She would not tell her father how well she knew Tucker. There were some things a daughter didn’t discuss with her dad.
Plus, knowing how her father felt about her dating—anyone—she didn’t think he’d appreciate knowing she was seeing Tucker.
She couldn’t even imagine that conversation. Not that she ever intended to have it with him. She’d always kept her father in the dark about her dating life. He preferred to think of her as studious and dedicated to her career.
She’d keep it that way for now. Someday, maybe when she got engaged, she’d mention there was a man in her life. Or maybe after she got married. Or possibly when she put a grandchild in her father’s arms. Then there’d be no going back, and he might be distracted by a crying baby and wouldn’t notice the guy standing next to her.
Her lips ticked up at the thought. Yeah, that was a long way down the road.
She focused on Tucker as he warmed up his arm, threw some pitches, slow at first, then with more speed as his velocity increased. He looked mighty fine in uniform, too. Even from up in the owner’s box she could appreciate the tight fit of the pants across his thighs and butt, especially when he turned away from her.
There was something so striking about Tucker in uniform, the way he took command of the mound as if he owned it. He threw the ball with authority. He had a definite presence.
“I’m glad you’re here.” He put his arm around her. “It’s a good series to watch.”
He led her over to the bar, where she had the bartender fix her a Bloody Mary. She sat down at one of the front tables with her dad, a spot with a great view of the on-field action.
“Tell me how work is going,” he said.
“Busy. Intense. Brutal at times. Had a rough night last night.” She told him about her double shift.
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “What you do isn’t for everyone. It takes someone with a lot of heart—and grit—to handle it. You’re tough, Aubry. A lot tougher than most people. It’s why at first I thought you could handle this business. But when you gravitated toward medicine, I knew you could do that as well.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Sometimes all she needed were her father’s pep talks. He was good at being frank with her. In college, when she’d been down about how hard the workload and pressure were, he’d reminded her she was smart, and that she could handle anything. He’d also told her the Rosses weren’t wusses, and she needed to rise to the challenge. He wasn’t one to coddle his only daughter. So while her mother had always given her a shoulder to lean on, her father had given her tough love.
Sometimes she’d needed both.
He sat and studied her. “You have dark circles under your eyes.”
Then again, he wasn’t always complimentary when she needed it the most. “Like I said—double shift yesterday. Those are the worst.”
“But you love it.”
As if she needed convincing. She laughed. “Yes. I love it. It’s everything I imagined it would be.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “You can handle it, Aubry. No matter what they throw at you, even when it’s awful, you’ll handle it.”
She had always loved her father’s confidence in her. “Yes, Dad. I can handle it. Where’s Mom tonight?”
“It’s her night with the ladies from the country club. They’re going to one of the casinos.”
“Uh-oh. Spending more of my inheritance, huh?” she asked with a wink.
“Yup. I guess you’re just gonna have to go make your own way in life, kiddo.”
She laid the back of her hand against her forehead. “Oh, woe is me.”
He smiled and put his arm around her. “Come on. Let’s grab a bite to eat before the game starts. You can tell me more horror stories about work.”
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about work, so she engaged her father in discussions about the team, as well as Ross Enterprises. She’d been involved in the company since she was old enough to understand the rudimentary workings of what both her parents did for a living. And while she’d always found it fascinating—especially the sports angle—it had never dulled her love for medicine.
She could still appreciate her father’s passion for the game, something he’d instilled in her at an early age. She’d mostly been teasing Tucker when she told him she preferred football, though that was a sport she enjoyed as well.
“The team looks solid this year,” she said to her dad while they watched pregame warm-ups.
“They do. They barely missed the playoffs last year. I have high hopes for them this season.”
“You’ve filled the team with talent, Dad. Hot bats and stellar pitching.”
Her father smiled. “And here I thought you were too busy with your career to pay attention to the team.”
“Oh, I pay attention. You’ve made some fine additions the past couple of years. I know exactly who plays for the team. I might not have time to come to every game, but I catch up on the scores and updates.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Wait till you see Tucker Cassidy pitch tonight. He’s a real phenom with a wicked curveball.”
At the mention of Tucker’s name, her stomach did a slight tumble. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Best acquisition we’ve made in years.”
“I can’t wait to watch him.” She would not tell her father how well she knew Tucker. There were some things a daughter didn’t discuss with her dad.
Plus, knowing how her father felt about her dating—anyone—she didn’t think he’d appreciate knowing she was seeing Tucker.
She couldn’t even imagine that conversation. Not that she ever intended to have it with him. She’d always kept her father in the dark about her dating life. He preferred to think of her as studious and dedicated to her career.
She’d keep it that way for now. Someday, maybe when she got engaged, she’d mention there was a man in her life. Or maybe after she got married. Or possibly when she put a grandchild in her father’s arms. Then there’d be no going back, and he might be distracted by a crying baby and wouldn’t notice the guy standing next to her.
Her lips ticked up at the thought. Yeah, that was a long way down the road.
She focused on Tucker as he warmed up his arm, threw some pitches, slow at first, then with more speed as his velocity increased. He looked mighty fine in uniform, too. Even from up in the owner’s box she could appreciate the tight fit of the pants across his thighs and butt, especially when he turned away from her.
There was something so striking about Tucker in uniform, the way he took command of the mound as if he owned it. He threw the ball with authority. He had a definite presence.
