Actually, she was relieved. It’d been a weird conversation. “No problem.”
Still, she was surprised he was interested enough in Atlas and her work to request actual status reports. Of course, this was the first time her line of work had overlapped with anything remotely related to his, and as the main holder of her contract she supposed it did reflect directly on him.
“I’ll send you some background on this kennel and the man working with you on the dog.”
She blinked. “I’d planned to research both the kennel and the people I’m working with already.”
“The research should have been done in advance, but you wouldn’t have the resources to access much more than names and public record.” He made it sound so dismissive.
Well, she wasn’t a private investigator and as a civilian, she was limited to what a good Internet search could find for her. He had another point. She was never going to be someone to spite herself by turning down valuable information just because of where it came from.
“Background information would be helpful.” There. As close to a thank-you as she was going to manage through gritted teeth.
“Remember. Your performance reflects on me and that dog is a military asset. Conduct yourself professionally.” His admonishment sparked her temper again. “The man you’re working with is former military. Don’t let him run over you on this case. Men like him are still military even after they’ve left active duty. Arrogant sons of bitches. Do not let him take credit for our family’s work.”
Hello, pot, calling kettle black.
And there was no way her stepfather could know about the…almost moment between her and David. Something she hadn’t had a chance to think about, but she should. Until she did, though, her stepfather needed to recognize this project included real souls. Not just assets listed on a report. “That dog’s name is Atlas. And I am always professional. I’m very good at what I do.”
Damn. Too much. She shouldn’t have taken the bait. Shouldn’t have gotten defensive about her abilities.
“We’ll see.” He ended the call.
Of course. He always had the last word. And damn, but it’d left her reaching for a comeback again. Too slow. Flustered. He’d won that round.
She tapped her foot, restless. Atlas hadn’t budged from his spot over by the couch, but he was sitting up and watching her. Another good sign. Even if he wanted to maintain a little detachment, he was tuned in to what she was doing and what her moods were. Engaged. Very positive considering yesterday he’d been completely disinterested in life in general and people specifically.
No harm in continuing a bit of therapeutic venting in Atlas’s direction. Dogs were excellent listeners. “I lived and breathed to please my stepfather when I was a kid. He was never home. The few times he came back, I wanted to show him everything I’d done while he was gone. How good I’d been. And somehow I got it into my head that if I could just do well enough in school, win enough awards, excel at sports, then he’d come home to stay. Every time he left again, it broke my heart.” Her eyes grew hot and she blinked against dryness. The tears had long since burned away when it came to this set of memories. “When he finally sat me down and informed me how very little I mattered in the bigger picture of his career and his life with my mother, my heart was in pieces on the floor. I was extra baggage. Someone else’s genetic contribution to the continuation of the human race. And out of honor, he’d see to it I had the basics to grow up and contribute to society. That was it.”
She huffed out a soft laugh. Atlas gave her one of those doggy raised eyebrow looks.
“By the time I realized I had nothing to do with his decisions, I thought I hated him. Really. It took a long time to realize no matter how mad I was at him, how much I said I didn’t care, I was waiting for the one time he’d say I’d proved him wrong or made him proud.” She chewed on her lip. It’d been a bitter taste, admitting it to herself. “He’s not a bad man. His priorities are different from…basically the rest of the warm-blooded, caring portion of this world.”
Atlas settled back down on his belly, his head raised as he continued to listen to her.
She stepped toward him and crouched down to sit back on her heels within arm’s reach of him. “We’re all assets to him. We each go in one of two buckets: useful or useless. And to be honest, even if I built my career on my own and in spite of his doubts, I still want to prove to him I’m not useless.”
She sighed. And Atlas sighed too.
“I want to say it’s not a primary driver.” Studying the beautiful contrast of black in the tan of Atlas’s face, calm settled over her. “And it’s not. I came here for you and your story. Just reading what happened, I wanted to get to know you. And now that I’ve met you, I want to see you happy again.”
Because broken hearts could heal. It wasn’t a whimsical child’s refuge, it was her very real belief and she wanted it for Atlas.