I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,348

my daughter?”

Max paused before he answered. “I was lucky to recruit someone so talented. She’s smart and works hard.” Max grinned. “I’m just grateful you weren’t successful in convincing her to work for JD Stanley,” he said as if he hadn’t just given him the biggest backhanded compliment in the history of backhanded compliments, and I wanted to smile at him, touch him, give him some indication I appreciated his support. “But to answer your question, I had no idea she was your daughter until after our telephone conversation. It’s not something she’s ever mentioned.”

“Really?” he asked.

“One thing you should know about me up front,” Max said as he leaned forward. “I don’t lie.”

“But you’ve wanted to work for JD Stanley for a long time,” my father said.

“You’re right. I have. As have the rest of my competitors.”

The waiter filled our water glasses and I pulled mine toward me, fiddling with the stem.

“You seem a little more tenacious than most. A little more willing to do whatever it takes,” my father commented.

“I’m glad you’ve noticed my tenacity,” Max replied. “It’s what’s helped make King & Associates the most successful geopolitical research firm in America.” My father looked at me and I stared into my lap. “That and the quality of work we do.”

Max clearly didn’t lack confidence and rightly so. He should be proud and in that moment I was proud to know him.

“Did you know Harper was working with us when you called me?” Max asked, turning the tables on my father. It was a question I was desperate for the answer to. In my experience, my father’s actions were almost always selfish, and if he called Max because he knew I was working at King & Associates, I didn’t know why.

“Will my answer change anything?” my father asked.

“Absolutely not. I know that when you see our work, understand what we can do for you, then the reason you called won’t matter anymore.”

My father put a fist to his mouth and coughed. “People do say you’re the best at what you do.” He paused. “Which was the reason I called. I didn’t know Harper worked for you until you called Margaret.”

I took a swig of my water. I was pretty sure my father was telling the truth. Why would he have known? He’d taken little to no interest in my life up until this point; why would that change now?

“Are you enjoying your work, Harper?” he asked.

I nodded. “I am. I chose to work at King & Associates because they’re the best. I didn’t apply anywhere else.” I felt Max’s gaze on me. I’d bordered on obsessed and had been completely single-minded in getting a job working with Max. I’d tailored my projects at business school to things I thought would catch King & Associates’ attention on my resume, and even visited the lobby of our building when I’d flown to New York to see Grace over the Fourth of July weekend last year. I’d always known King & Associates was where I was meant to be.

“You know that you can do anything you like with your trust fund now you’re twenty-five. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” my father said, stroking down the front of his tie.

Was he really talking about my trust fund in front of my boss? The trust fund I didn’t want anything to do with? Was he deliberately trying to embarrass me? Make Max feel awkward? I’d thought we’d come here to talk about business.

“I want to work at King & Associates. I worked hard for my opportunity. And I don’t need your money.” Was it so difficult for him to believe I was good enough, that I would want this? This lunch should be about business and beginning to prove to my father I didn’t need a trust fund. “May I ask why you’re thinking about outsourcing some of your research at this point? Has something changed at your end?” I asked.

My eyes flickered to Max, who was nodding, encouraging my question and I allowed myself to relax a little bit.

My father sighed. “Well, I think it’s good to keep the people who work for you on their toes, and I’ve been following what you do and I thought I’d like to hear a little more about it.”

I kept quiet for most of the rest of lunch, concentrating on the answers my father gave to Max’s questions, committing them to memory. I tried to forget the man sitting