To Wes’s credit, he managed to walk into the living room with dignity and shake her father’s hand despite his state of undress. “Nice to see you, sir. I didn’t realize you were stopping by.”
“Obviously.” Her father lifted a dark brow. “You’re the young man who gave my daughter a ride yesterday.”
Wes choked a little and Rebecca closed her eyes, her face heating at her dad’s choice of words. A ride. He most certainly did. Twice. “Yes, Dad. Wes is…a friend.”
“I thought you said he was working on the charity project with you,” her father said, sending her a look.
“That too,” she said, trying to sound businesslike and like she wasn’t at all mortified by the current situation. “He’s the culinary instructor at an after-school program for kids. The money’s going to fund a food-truck project for his group that will help sustain the program long-term.”
“I see,” her father said, his eyes back on Wes. “So, Mr. Garrett, do you make a habit of sleeping with women in order to get your program funded?”
Wes stiffened like he’d been pinched.
“What?” Rebecca said, horrified. “Oh my God. Dad, you can go now. This is ridiculous. Who I do or do not sleep with is none of your business.”
Her father tucked his hands in his pockets, unmoved. “Well, I think it is my business when it’s my money this man is swindling you out of.”
“Swindling?” Wes said, a thread of anger entering his voice.
Her father looked back and forth between the two of them. “You’re taking advantage of my daughter, and I won’t stand by and—”
Rebecca threw her hands out to her side. “Enough! Jesus, Dad. I’m thirty-one, not twelve. And I really appreciate that you think I’m so desperate that I’d have to pay someone to sleep with me. That’s really nice of you. Now, please, leave.”
“Rebecca—” her father said.
She pointed to the door. “Go. Or I’m never doing another campaign thing again. This is over the line. Next time you want to come over for a visit, call first, because, surprise, I have a life.”
Her father was red in the face, but he turned and strode toward the door. When he reached it, she thought he’d just storm out, but he turned around. “No, Rebecca, what you have is a distraction. The daughter I know doesn’t cut out of work at three on a Monday. She doesn’t quit speeches. So I’d suggest if you plan on making partner, you get rid of this.”
He stepped out and slammed the door behind him, leaving Rebecca staring slack-jawed after him.
Wes cleared his throat behind her. “Well, that went well. I totally just guaranteed an invite to Thanksgiving dinner. I’ll bring the potatoes.”
“Ugh.” She covered her face with her hands. “I am so exceptionally mortified. I’m sorry. I can’t even…”
Warm arms slid around her, and Wes put his chin on top of her head. “For the record, I’d require way more money if someone were to hire me to sleep with them. I’m worth more than a rusted-out bus and some ovens. I’m at least worth a Viking range and a vent hood.”
She laughed and leaned back against him. “I’m sorry…for whatever that was.”
He turned her in his arms, a lopsided smile on his face. “You have nothing to apologize for. Your dad clearly loves you, but he’s got an interesting way of being protective.”
“Yeah, threatening my job is really loving.”
Wes put a finger under her chin, tilting her face to meet his gaze. “About that. If this whole food-truck remodeling is going to put your bid for partner in jeopardy, please don’t feel like you have to keep your obligation to me. I don’t want to be that kind of distraction. You know I’d love for you to be there, but not at the expense of your career. Me and the kids can do the remodel. You can have a more advisory role. One that doesn’t make you leave work early.”
Rebecca stared up him, thankful for the reprieve, but feeling a little numb from her father’s threats. Some part of her was panicking. She could be passed over for what she’d been working toward all these years, but she couldn’t connect fully to the fear. It was almost like it was happening to someone else. She let out a long breath and looped her arms around Wes’s neck. “I don’t know what I want right now.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” she said tiredly. “I don’t want to think about work. But I do know one thing I would like.”
“What’s that?”
“You to stay over.”
He lifted his brows. “Yeah?”
She nodded.