“And you can even keep this house.” She smiles. “Ifyou want.”
“I can afford that?”
“You can,” she says. “For now.”
I’m dying to jump in and tell Harlan he can keep this place forever as far as I’m concerned. But I’m not a participant in this conversation. And I can’t tell him I’ve got plenty of money to cover his costs. He barely knows me, and he has no idea I’m his daughter’s legal husband. Anyway, there’s no need to extend the talk of finances.
This moment is about the emotional component.
He looks around the room, surveying the space. The home where he raised his daughter, loved his wife, built a life. “So this will all still be ours?”
“Yes.”
“But I’d live at Havenwood.”
“You would, Dad. Yes.”
Loren shoots a glance my way, and Harlan follows her gaze over to me.
“Hey, there, big fella.”
“That’s my friend, Bridger,” she reminds him. “You’ve met.”
“I remember.” He cocks a brow. “He almost fell on me.”
“Sorry about that,” I say.
“You’ve been awfully quiet over there. Busy listening to my daughter talk.” His mouth quirks. “Believe me, I recognize that syndrome.”
A nervous laugh slips out of Loren. “What syndrome, Dad?”
“Operating under the influence of a pretty woman.”
I lift my palms. “Guilty as charged.”
“So.” He leans forward, appraising me. “I take it you’re an honest man, then.”
“I try.”
“In that case, what do you think about all this?”
I think you raised a brilliant daughter.
I think your wife couldn’t have had a better husband.
I think I want to be like you when I grow up.
“I think you deserve the best, sir. And I know that’s what Loren wants for you.”
“Sir. Heh. I like that.” Harlan chuckles, then he shifts his focus back to Loren. “I like this guy.”
“I do, too, Dad,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“So it appears the general consensus around here is that Havenwood would be a great opportunity.”
“Yes,” she says, cautiously. “But your opinion is the one that matters.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He runs a hand over his chin, nodding. Processing.