And it was, and I was going to make the most of it. This job for Sturm’s could be the chance I’d been waiting for, and I would do whatever it took to keep it. And if my heart felt a little bruised at the idea of not seeing Theo Ganas again, then that was just one more thing that I was going to have to leave out to dry in the Texas sun.

Chapter Four

Theo

“Why are you not taking my calls?” my father demanded before bursting into my office without so much as a hello. The man was supposedly retired but insisted on driving from the back seat on everything relating to the company I was technically in charge of now. In the mood I was currently in this interruption was bound to turn into a shouting match.

“I am not at your beck and call, Dad. I am busy.” I still had my phone in my hand, though it had to be at least a half hour since Alba informed me she was staying in Dallas and I could go to hell.

I was scattered, reeling from the realization I’d lost her before I even had a chance to tell her how I felt. I’d let my frustration get the best of me and blown the first interaction we’d had without me being her boss hanging over our heads. I’d had the chance to show her I saw who she was, that I respected what she was attempting to do for herself, for her career, and instead resorted to the tactics I loved to quietly judge my father for. The last thing I needed was his entitled ass coming here to make demands.

Alba’s words from that day when she’d given me her notice still rang in my ears. In the time she’d worked for me she’d occasionally slide in an observation, but she’d never been as candid as that morning. Her canny insight about my indifference to the legacy my father had handed me wasn’t an unfair one, but it had stung. I’d been raised to do my duty, to be grateful for the empire my father had built from the ground up and handed over for me to run, even if the work left me numb. And it had been easy to use that as an excuse not to question the apathy I felt about my work.

My needs or my wants had never been part of the equation. I’d done everything my parents had asked of me. My mother pushing me to be the best swimmer, the best student, the best son so that my father would see she’d given him the perfect heir to his empire and stick around. In the end, none of it had mattered. He’d left her and then she’d left me.