her father huffed impatiently, eager to be on his way.
Josh swiveled to extend his hand to her father. “Thanks again for dinner, Dr. Ballentine.” Only someone who knew him well would have sensed the lack of warmth in his voice. “It was good to meet you.” This was a bald-faced lie, Mia was certain, but Josh was too polite to say anything less. He’d been raised better than that.
Her father shook Josh’s hand, this time without attempting to crush it, and replied with a far less gracious, “Likewise,” before starting toward the car.
Josh looked at Mia, and she pressed a kiss against his cheek, murmuring, “I’m sorry my dad was so awful to you.”
“I don’t care about that.” His hands grasped her shoulders, his eyes softening with concern as they peered into hers. “Is everything okay with you?”
Nodding, she slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “I get stressed around my dad, that’s all.”
His arms encircled her. “But you’re happy, right? This is exciting news.”
“Yeah, of course.” She squeezed her eyes shut, burrowing into the soft warmth of his shirt. “It’s great. I’m thrilled. Just…still trying to process it all.”
He nuzzled her hair. “Text me when he leaves and I’ll come over.”
“Mia!” her father shouted across the parking lot. “Say good night to your boyfriend so we can get out of here.”
She drew back, giving Josh an apologetic look. “It might be late. Honestly, I’ll probably be exhausted and just go to sleep.”
“Okay.” He tried to hide it, but she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes before he managed to shake it off.
Was this a preview of how he’d feel when she left for good? A glimpse of the pain she was going to cause him? He’d said he was okay with her leaving, but had he only been trying to make her feel better?
For the first time, regret twisted inside her as she looked at Josh. He’d already been hurt enough to last a lifetime. Maybe he’d have been better off if she’d never come into his life.
Cupping his face in her hands, she stared into his warm brown eyes, trying to express all the things she wanted him to know but didn’t know how to put into words—and didn’t have time to say in a cold parking lot with her father waiting on them. “I really am sorry about my dad, but thank you for coming tonight. It meant a lot to me.”
Josh studied her, frowning. “Did it?”
“Of course.” She kissed him again, more tenderly this time, wishing she didn’t have to leave him here. It was an effort to drag herself out of the secure comfort of his arms.
But she forced herself to do it.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told Josh regretfully before going to join her father.
“You’re awfully quiet,” her father observed on the drive back to her apartment.
Mia was surprised he’d even noticed. He’d been going on about his grand plans for her nonstop since he pulled out of the restaurant parking lot. The photoshoot he was going to schedule while she was home for Christmas. The people he planned to consult for advice about what her next paper should be. The schools he thought would be vying hardest to snap her up.
Shifting in the passenger seat of the rented Range Rover, she turned her face to the window. “I’m just processing still. It’s a lot.” The car smelled strongly of leather cleaner and that fake new car smell deodorizer they used at car washes. It was giving her a headache.
“You’re right, it is a lot,” her father said pointedly. “It’s a huge opportunity. I hope you won’t waste it.”
The implication that she’d already wasted opportunities by rejecting the path he’d laid out for her graduate studies hung heavy in the stifling air of the car.
And in a way, he’d been right. She’d insisted on making her own choices and they’d backfired on her. That was how she’d ended up teaching at an unremarkable school in the middle of nowhere.
Hadn’t she had enough of a taste of failure to teach her a lesson? She could still remember how it had felt to receive rejection after rejection, laying all her hopes to waste. Maybe she should follow her father’s advice now. She might not like him or his methods, but he had a proven track record and ironclad instincts when it came to success.
Didn’t she want to succeed?
Her father cleared his throat. “That Josh seems like a nice young