the burning question I’ve been wanting to ask. “How’s the sale of Evolution coming?”
He sets his fork down. “Good. It should be finalized at the end of next week.”
My mouth drops open in a very unladylike manner, making me glad I hadn’t just taken a bite of food. “Next week? Isn’t that rushing it?”
Dad lifts his shoulder as he makes another cut into his meat. “Possibly, but the offer is solid, Kyla. The company who is purchasing it has made a promising deal to keep my support staff in place. That was my biggest concern. I’m not so much worried about Harold, because he’s past retirement age, but I don’t want Lizabeth and Dominic to worry about losing their jobs,” he says, referring to his assistant of ten years, Lizabeth, and the company vice president, Dominic.
“They get to stay on?”
“I’ve been assured, yes. They want the contracts Evolution has secured, and if that means keeping a few employees on to get those deals, he’s willing to make an exception.”
“Well, that’s good news,” I reply, feeling a little better about the sale. I’ve come to know and love my dad’s team as if they were my own family, and the thought of them potentially losing their jobs bothered me greatly.
“It was the only way I’d sell, and they knew it. Harold has decided to retire when I do, which means their team will fill his CFO spot. That makes sense, though, keeping all of the companies under the same financial operator.”
I guess he’s right. I don’t know anything about finance and don’t pretend to. I can raise funds like no other, but the actual disbursement of them isn’t something I’ve ever been interested in.
“Well, I’m happy for you. I know this is a big step, and one you didn’t take lightly.”
He nods in agreement and wipes off his mouth with his cloth napkin. “Of course not. And I’ve been transparent with my team the entire time. They knew this was a possibility and have appreciated my drive to keep the changes minimal.”
“So, golf, huh?” I ask, a knowing grin on my face.
He barks out a laugh. “There’s plenty of room for improvement on the course,” he replies, finishing up his potato before pushing his plate aside. “You could join me, you know. You’re still a member of the club.”
I almost roll my eyes, but refrain. My parents have been paying for my country club membership since I was eighteen, insisting I attend outings and dinners with them. After a few times embarrassing them on the course, they agreed to just allow me to attend the dinners. Of course, they offered lessons first, but I wasn’t interested. I could barely hold a club right, let alone hit the ball in the direction of the hole. Golf isn’t my thing, and I had absolutely no desire to improve my game. “Really?”
Dad laughs. “Your mother insisted, hoping you’d find your love for the game.”
“Wasn’t happening,” I mumbled, knowing he heard my comment.
Mother was very good. She grew up at that very country club, learning from the golf pro on site, and taking additional lessons from a former PGA player in the area. That’s actually where she met Dad. He was visiting a friend in college and played eighteen holes. Their small groups bumped into each other on the course and ended up sharing a large dinner table that evening. My parents started dating a week later, and the rest is history.
I glance up and can see the nostalgia in his eyes. He’s thinking of her too. “She’d be proud of you,” I state, my voice hoarse with emotion.
He blinks a few times and gives me the smallest smile. “I miss her.”
“Me too. I’m sure she’d love spending days on end with you on the course or traveling the world.”
“She always wanted to go to Venice,” he says, averting his eyes. “We never got to go.”
I reach over and squeeze his hand. “Then you go. Take her memory with you.”
He meets my eyes, his clouded with unshed tears, and nods. “Maybe I will. You could always join me.”
When our check is paid, we make our way to the front entrance. I can tell my dad recognizes a few people in the restaurant but doesn’t stop to say hello. Instead, he gives them a polite wave and keeps walking until we’re standing on the sidewalk.
“Thank you for lunch.” I lean in and give him a hug, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and squeezing.
“You’re welcome. Thank