Cora continued typing as she greeted me. “Hi, Alina! How are you, sweetie?”

“Fine, thanks.” I spied some new glitter art hanging by her desk. “Oh, I never got to ask! How did the rest of the Daddy-Daughter Day activities go?”

“Great! I had one of my grandchildren make some copies and now she’s addicted to it! Reminds me of you at that age.” Chuckling, she glanced at the family photos surrounding her desk. I had a frame all to myself. Little Alina, nine years old, proudly wielding a red stapler as if it channeled my superpowers. 

Cora sighed happily. “Time just flies by. It’s hard to believe you’re already in your twenties!”

I still had the stapler, but I’d certainly grown up since then. “Cora, do you think—would you consider me—never mind,” I decided, turning away. I didn’t want to put her in an awkward position.

“No, ask me!”

“It’s just—with your kids, when did you realize they’d grown up? That they were ready and deserving of bigger responsibilities?”

She screwed up her face in thought. “Mmm, probably when my oldest got married.”

I sighed, slumping against her desk. “That’s what I feared.”

“But my middle one, I knew she was grown up when I called her to ask for a recipe.”

My cooking was edible, mostly. “What about your youngest?”

“Oh, the baby!” Cora’s whole face lit up and she clasped the locket hanging from her neck. “He’ll always be my baby.”

I couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing. “Well, you’ve known me since I was little. What do you think of me?” I braced myself, trying to keep my tone light.

She looked me up and down, then smiled. “You’re amazing.”

Awww. I scuffed the carpet with my flats. “Thanks, Cora. So are you.”

“Good. And when you get married and have babies, you better bring them in to see their favorite Auntie!”

“I will,” I laughed, backing away. “Although, I’m not sure I’ll have any.”

“What?! Of course you’ll have babies! I have friends with single sons. Let me show you a picture—”

“No, no, that’s okay!” I insisted, shaking my hands as she jabbed at her phone. “I… I actually need to make an appointment with my dad.”

“Appointment? You’re his daughter. Just go in.” She waved, then resumed typing. “I’ll send you those boys’ information.”

“If you must,” I mused. I paused halfway to my dad’s office. “And can you send me your middle kid’s recipe?”

Cora pulled her necklace and winked, touching her nose. “Absolutely! Family secret.”

Yeah, family. We took care of each other. Even when we had disagreements.

I adjusted the files in my planner and knocked on the big oak doors to my father’s office.

“Who is it?” he called.

“Alina.”

“Oh, come in, sweetie!” He swept takeout containers, cans, and candy wrappers off the desk and into his trash can as I walked in.

 “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Todd heard I was tired and introduced me to this new energy drink company, Blue Bat. I think I might invest.” He wagged his eyebrows.

“Those aren’t good for blood pressure.”

“My blood pressure is fine!”

“When was the last time you went to a doctor?” I pressed.

 Sighing, he nudged the trash can behind his desk. Out of sight, out of mind—just like the documents he didn’t look at in his Unread pile. “You don’t need to worry about me. Here, I’ll show you the papers we drew up for Blue Bat.” He flipped through a stack and pushed them over to me. “See? Very popular with kids these days. Todd said all the folks in his classes were starting to drink them, so he’s gotten free samples for some of our client meetings. I bet he could get you some!”

“Yeah, I’ve tried them.” I flipped through the pamphlet. “Food and beverage is a hard sell.” I wasn’t sure how Damon’s family had kept their restaurant running for so many years when we’d lose money with one drink. Blue Bat was one of many questionable investments we made in the next three years. But Dad had clearly invested too much in Todd already.

Dad leaned down just to peer up at me. “Why are you so morose, sweetie?”

I pushed the papers across his desk and folded my hands in my lap. “I need to talk to you as someone other than my dad.”

Dad chuckled. “What do you mean?”

“Do you see me growing within this company?” I asked him plainly.

“Of course! You started here when you were a baby.”

“Not just growing older… facing new challenges, managing projects on my own, making decisions.”

“You already do that,” he insisted. “You have your own office.”

“Do you feel my current position is the top for me?”

“Alina,” he huffed, clasping his hands, “what are you asking?”

I took a moment to gather my courage and meet his gaze. Behind my father’s entreaties were the impenetrable ideals of businessman Roy Martin. 

I tilted my chin up. “What would it take to equip me to be CEO of this company?”

Surprise flashed across his face, though he composed himself quickly. “Eh—excuse me?”

“I want you to run Martin Enterprises and be with me, with all of us, as long as possible. But eventually, I’d like to lead. What else should I be learning? Is there something—”

“Alina, this isn’t about your capabilities.”

“Then what is it?” I sat forward. “I want to understand. You don’t owe me the CEO position. But I want an objective, maybe even a chance.”

Dad shifted the picture of Mom on his desk. “When I started this company, I wasn’t the best husband. Or father.”

“Dad—”

He shook his head “I gave it everything I had. The same way you want to now. But I have regrets.” His eyes softened around the corners as he stroked the edge of my mother’s picture. “I would’ve spent more time with my wife. We might’ve had more kids. There’s so much time you don’t get back.”

I knew that. I’d been blessed with this second chance. 

I squeezed his hand. “I want to take care of the family I do have. You, Cora, the company… will you give me the chance?”

With a deep, wet breath, he set the picture frame down and met my gaze. “I don’t know if I can. Especially without knowing you have a support system in place. It’d be so much easier if you—”

“Fell in love with Todd?” I tried not to roll my eyes as I patted my dad’s hand. “My single best friend runs her own business and she’s one of the most fulfilled people I know. I don’t need a husband to be happy.”

“But you want someone to love who will love you in return. I know,” he insisted.

Maybe Dad was right, in some ways.

But love could wait. If I was ever going to get through to my strong-willed dad, I needed marriage. Or a stellar recipe for success.