Dad's E-mail Order Bride. Candy Halliday
Rachel rolled her eyes.
“And if I didn’t adore you, I could have been nasty about this whole situation, too,” Courtney reminded her. “Do you realize how embarrassed I was when your dad had no idea I even existed?”
“Okay, okay.” Rachel groaned. “I’ll go make peace with Dad. But only because I owe it to you.”
Courtney reached out and gave Rachel a big hug.
To Courtney’s relief, Rachel hugged her back.
“Could you do me one more favor?”
Rachel nodded.
“Do you still have any of the e-mails on file that I thought I was sending to your dad?”
Rachel got up from the bed and walked over to her dresser. Seconds later, she pulled out a folder from her bottom dresser drawer. “I was afraid Dad might catch me, so I always printed them out before I erased them and waited to read them later.”
“Devious of you,” Courtney said, “but perfect for what I have in mind. Would you give them to your dad for me?”
Rachel looked concerned. “But why?”
“Because I wrote those e-mails thinking I was writing them to your dad. And Graham has the right to see them.”
Rachel grinned. “Tell me the truth. Are you crushin’ on my dad, Courtney?”
“I’m just trying to even the score a little. I know a lot about Graham. It’s only fair he should have a chance to know who I am. If he wants to know anything about me, of course,” Courtney added quickly.
“Adults are so weird,” Rachel said. “But whatever.”
“And one more thing,” Courtney said. “I know you want to dress up for dinner tonight, but I really wouldn’t push your dad about that. I think he’s had enough of both of us for one day. Let’s just concentrate on making him the really nice dinner you’ve planned.”
Rachel shook her head. “No way. We are dressing up for dinner. And Dad will just have to get over it.”
GRAHAM LEANED BACK in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk. He’d been waiting for Rachel for—he checked his watch—thirty-five minutes now. If she didn’t show up soon, he’d walk down the hall and get her himself.
He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Courtney’s obvious affection for his daughter. She’d defended Rachel at every turn. And though Graham admired Courtney for doing that, it puzzled him.
What was the common bond there?
She skirted around the question when he’d asked earlier, saying only that Rachel had been a bright spot in her day. Not that he questioned her honesty. She’d already proven she was blunt enough to tell him how she felt.
Like telling him he wasn’t a hard sale. Graham smiled, thinking about it.
Until he looked down at his watch again. Five o’clock already. If Rachel didn’t get her butt in gear soon, they were going to be having her big surprise birthday dinner for breakfast.
Rachel’s planning dinner was another mystery to Graham. His daughter had never shown any interest in the kitchen. Not even when her mother was alive.
A wave of guilt suddenly washed over him. He wasn’t being fair, and Graham knew it. Rachel never had the opportunity to have any time in the kitchen with her mother and Julia hadn’t been the in-the-kitchen type.
In fact, both of their careers had been so demanding they’d always had a live-in housekeeper even when they were first married—him the new face on Wall Street, Julia the brilliant new prosecuting attorney determined to make a name for herself. And later, after Rachel was born, a daytime nanny had been added to the staff to care for the child who didn’t quite fit in with a busy and successful couple’s schedules.
And that’s what Graham didn’t understand about Rachel’s damn insistence to return to New York. Why would Rachel want to go back to a life like that? A life so busy you had no time for family? Seeing each other only in passing? Losing sight of yourself and the people most important to you?
Well, not him—not ever.
What had appeared to be the good life on the surface had been far from perfect, regardless of the happy childhood memories Rachel had about living across the street from Central Park. He’d never tarnish those memories. Just as he’d never tell Rachel that her parents’ marriage had been on shaky ground from the very beginning.
As with the rest of his past life, he and Julia had sort of happened to each other. They’d both moved in the same social circle, and their parents had been good friends. Marriage had seemed like the next logical step, and they’d taken it. But their marriage had always been based more on what everyone else expected of them than on any true love for each other.
Sadly, it had taken Julia’s death before Graham realized what a meaningless life he had fallen into. He’d had his priorities completely out of order. He’d placed his career and the almighty dollar above his ten-year-old daughter, whose care had been the responsibility of a long string of housekeepers and nannies instead of her own parents.
He’d failed at marriage.
He would not fail as a father.
He’d left New York and never looked back. And he’d come to the one place where he’d always felt centered even as a kid, thanks to his grandfather Morrison. His grandfather had been an unpretentious man who firmly believed that nature and the simple things in life fed a person’s soul and shaped their true character.
Graham had wanted Rachel to experience those same values. And he knew Rachel had been happy the first couple of years, when having her father’s full attention had been a novelty instead of a curse. Graham also knew most of Rachel’s attitude about being stuck in Port Protection now was simply her being a teenager. Still, the thought of Rachel returning to New York turned Graham inside out.
He wanted to keep her safe.
And not only from the type of crime everyone faced living in a large city. Graham wanted to keep Rachel safe from getting caught up in the whole gotta-have-it-all-regardless-of-the-cost madness that skewed a person’s outlook on life.
He’d lived that type of phony existence.
He’d also been raised by a long string of housekeepers and nannies, and he’d been born to parents who still believed money, power and social standing were the measure of a person’s worth. In turn, he’d married a woman who met his parents’ approval and who shared those same beliefs.
Had he stayed in New York, Graham knew he wouldn’t have stood a chance against interference from his parents and from his former in-laws. Had he stayed, it would have been too tempting to fall back into his old routine instead of taking full responsibility for his daughter.
Before Rachel set out on her journey through life, Graham wanted to do for her what his grandfather had done for him. He wanted to teach his daughter that there was so much more to life than an impressive salary, or a luxury penthouse apartment, or a closet filled with designer clothes. He wanted Rachel to know who she was as a person. And the longer he kept Rachel in Alaska, Graham believed, the better chance she would have of learning to appreciate the things that no amount of money, power or social standing could buy.
A loud knock brought Graham upright in his chair.
Speak of the devil.
He prepared himself for another shouting match.
Instead, the first thing Rachel said when she closed his office door was, “I’m so sorry, Dad. For everything. Especially for copying text from your journal.”
“Sorry is a good place to start.”
Her chin came up in defiance. “Well, at least Courtney has forgiven me.”
“Courtney’s