“She’s with Pippa, right?”
“Yeah. Your sister’s been great, helping Julie.”
“Cut the crap. I saw the two of you at the wedding. She’s been through enough, so don’t mess with her.”
“I’m not planning to.”
We don’t say anything more as we start with the bench press, but his warning pisses me off. The last thing I want is to mess with Pippa. I only met this woman a week ago, yet her well-being is surprisingly important for me. Maybe it’s because she’s shown so much kindness to my daughter, but she’s gotten under my skin, and I like how it feels. Against my better judgment, I find myself looking for a reason to keep seeing her after Julie’s time with her is over.
Once we’re done with the bench press, we proceed to do sit-ups. I want to close off the training session with another round on the treadmill.
“I’m gonna run another fifteen, and then I’m leaving,” I tell Max.
He shakes his head. “No more running for me today.”
“Who’s the old man now?” I toss at him.
“The birth certificate would indicate it’s still you. Afraid you can’t change that. Don’t forget what I said about my sister.”
“I would’ve expected this from your brothers, not you.” I break into a light jog on the treadmill, increasing the speed with the buttons. “You’re my friend.”
“Pippa’s my sister. Family trumps friends, sorry.” Max is grinning now. I give him a thumbs-up, concentrating on my sprint. Yeah, I know about the Bennetts’ unspoken rule. Family comes first.
It sums up my view about life, which is probably why Max and I became friends in the first place.
I leave the gym shortly after, heading straight to Bennett Enterprises. With Max’s warning in mind, and Pippa’s earlier hesitation, I walk inside her office determined to simply pick up my daughter and head back out. Then I see Pippa and Julie dancing in the center of the room, and my determination flies out the window. Julie loves dancing, but because of her leg problem, she’s shy when other people are present, and the office is full.
“What’s going on?” I ask when I reach them.
“We’re celebrating,” Pippa answers, not stopping the dance moves to whatever imaginary music she’s dancing to.
“Ms. Watson wrote that she saw a great improvement in my design.” My daughter’s grin is contagious. Ms. Watson is the program director of the design course she’ll be attending starting next week, and Julie has to send in designs periodically. “I’m going to get my things now so we can leave.”
Pippa stops swinging her hips after Julie turns her attention to packing.
“This is a miracle,” I whisper to her. “My daughter never dances in front of strangers.”
“Have you ever danced with her?”
“No,” I admit.
“See, that’s the secret. If you make a fool of yourself, she won’t feel like the spotlight’s on her.”
I have to admit it makes sense.
“How come none of your employees seemed surprised by the dance?” I inquire.
Pippa blushes, and then it hits me why.
“You dance in the office on a regular basis?”
“No, only when there’s something to celebrate.” She shrugs. “They got used to it.”
“You have the most unusual leadership style I’ve ever seen.”
Pippa cocks an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “And I suppose you’re the ogre type who doesn’t feel in charge unless everyone’s afraid of you?”
“Hey.” I hold up my palms in mock defense. “We can’t all dance our way to the top.”