It felt like another wave had crashed over her. Not that she’d expected Chance to blurt out his love for her. Her father was right—she was throwing away a future on what could never be. But it was her future. And it wouldn’t be right to marry Ben if she didn’t love the guy.
Sam looked from Chance to Libby. His fingers drummed faster, his brow wrinkled in a frown. There was no predicting what Sam would say. Whether he’d state his opinion, as he was prone to do on just about every subject regardless of whether it was his business or not, or move on to another topic. One thing Libby knew Sam Brennan would not do was acknowledge Chance’s point—not in words, anyway.
“I expect at twenty-three, I can’t talk sense into you. Whether you know what love is, or if you’re mixing it up with pity, isn’t for me to say. If you don’t love Ben, there is nothing for it.”
“I’m glad you admit at least that.” Small as the victory was, given he’d pretty much insulted her and Chance, she’d take it.
“What about working for me? You made any progress on getting a job?”
Moving on to another topic, even one almost as touchy as her relationship with Chance, was progress at least. Libby took a breath.
“Some. I’m in a final round for a job. But even if I don’t get it, I’m not working at Casper. I just can’t. I’m not a car person.”
Sam rubbed a hand across his face. For the first time that morning, she noticed he didn’t look well. Paler than she remembered. Older. More tired. Apparently he’d taken her breakup with Ben hard. Or maybe he really did need her. As worn out as he looked, it made her want to offer something.
“I can help with the marketing if you need me to.” Because it wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. She just didn’t want it to cost her future. “But not for pay. Not as an employee or anything. As your daughter.” She reached for the large veined hand he had laid on the table. His skin felt cool, rough, and dry, as if any vitality had been wrung out by a harsh wind.
He looked up at her from under his brows. “Guess I’ll have to take what I can get. I’ve got some preliminary campaigns those ad guys came up with in the car. Don’t like any of them. Take a look. See what you think. Let me know.”
She nodded, feeling both relieved and strangely happy to be helping, like when a storm had passed and the damage wasn’t as bad as expected.
“I’d be happy to.”
Sam slunk back in his chair, sliding his hand from hers. “You expect me to just leave you here. With him?” He gestured toward Chance.
“I swear, Brennan, you are the orneriest SOB,” Chance said, more resigned than angry.
“I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“I bet you have.”
There was no love lost between these two men in her life—and each had his reasons. Her father would never forgive Chance for trying to take her away. Chance would never forgive her father for taking her away. She’d been caught between the two, both pulling on her, and she’d taken the safest path five years ago. She wasn’t about to make the same choice this time.
“I’m staying with Chance. He still needs me.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “And when he tires of you, doesn’t need you anymore, throws you out like used goods?”
“I’m not throwing her anywhere, and don’t insult her like that,” Chance growled, his back stiffening like a panther ready to pounce.
“Daddy, I’m a grown woman. I’m making my own choices. You have to accept that.” Libby leaned back in her chair. “Now let me walk you out, and you can give me those campaigns to look over.”
Sam grumbled the whole time, but after using the facilities, he allowed Libby to walk him out to the car, Chance having stayed inside. She knew Chance had been angry with her father, but she took it as a sign of his respect for her that he hadn’t acted on that anger.
“You know he’s using you, Libby,” her father said as he reached into the plush interior of his Lincoln, the new-car smell wafting out of the kiln created by the heat of the sun, and grabbed a set of colored folders, all neatly labeled. He thrust them into her hand, and she grasped them against her chest.
“Daddy, I know that’s what you want to believe. That he’s the bad guy in this. It’s what you wanted to believe five years ago too. But he’s not. I wanted to be with him then. I want to be with him now. I was too young back then. I’m not young anymore.”
He shook his head. “Think, Libby. Is this the man you want for a husband? A father to your children—not that he appears to be the marrying kind anymore. I didn’t hear him express one word of affection for you, so I hope you’re using protection.”
“Daddy!” Her father’s capacity for embarrassing her was never ending. “Why do you think so little of Chance? Look what he’s done. Look where he’s had to come from to get here.” She waved her arm in the direction of the majestic mountains standing sentinel in the distance. “Doesn’t this count for something?”