Expectations she couldn’t fulfill, because she couldn’t even meet a man for a job interview without ending up in the fetal position.

“You’re right,” she whispered, and her voice cracked. She knew she was messed up. She’d known it for years. It just hurt so much more coming from the man who had scorched her hair trying to help her learn to use a curling iron. She lifted her head. “Maybe I’m not capable of having a relationship. But that’s never going to change if you scare off any man who comes within a mile of me. That’s my choice, Dad.” She took a step forward. “Mine. And nobody’s going to take it from me.”

“Of course not,” he said hoarsely. His eyes started to shine, and he blinked quickly.

Andra swallowed. She’d never seen her father cry, not even at her mom’s funeral, but she’d heard him. That first night after her family drove two hours to bring her home, arriving at the hospital after she had already finished the horror of the rape kit. When she was safe in her childhood bedroom, she’d heard her father crying down the hall, well after midnight. She’d heard him again when she moved back after college graduation. That was the first reason she began to think of building her own place, but it was far from the only reason.

“Sweetheart, if you think you want to try dating again, that’s good, but . . .” He took off his hat and scrubbed a hand across his head before putting it back on. “Are you sure he’s the guy you want to start with?”

Her chin snapped up and her teeth ground together. “Is this because he’s black?”

“It doesn’t have a thing to do with his color, Cassie.” He used her childhood nickname, as if he were too rattled to remember it had changed. “But he was raised in the city, and differently from you. If you want to find a partner, it should be somebody you have more in common with.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “So it’s because he’s black.” She stalked a couple of steps away, then spun back around, glaring at him. “Seriously?”

Dad frowned. “Don’t take that tone with me. Your generation likes to talk as if seeing any difference between two people makes you a bigot. But race is a lot more than color. It’s the way they treat women, what they think is important. The way they talk and act. You hardly know a thing about this man. You think you’re going to fit in with his family? And don’t forget he came up here for a job first. Dating your employees gets . . . complicated.”