“Wait till you see it on the crop tops I ordered.”
He gives a sharp look. Then he catches the grin tugging the corner of my mouth and shakes his head with a grunt that holds no heat.
A short silence falls before he says, “New reports are clean. Clear. Easy to read. You got a good business head.”
“That’s all Dice.”
Maurice’s expression tightens like a drawstring yanked too fast.
“He’s a lot more than you give him credit for. He’s the one who organized everything. Wait till you see how he’s laid out the stockroom. It’s easier to count inventory and track what’s low. He walked me through it yesterday. He takes Docks seriously. Puts his heart into it. The staff like and respect him.”
“He does okay with bartending and his music.”
“That’s a huge understatement,” I snap, feeling my temperature rise. “You keep judging him based on his mother.”
“Never liked or trusted that woman. With good reason. Turned out she was nothing but a con artist. Scammed innocent people. You think he wasn’t part of that?”
“He was a child.”
“He didn’t stay one, Charlotte. He lived in that house with her till he was sixteen. You don’t grow up around that and not have it rub off on you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I shoot to my feet, voice too loud. Fight too familiar. “Dice is his own man. He wouldn’t steal a thing. And if you bring up that tired story about him taking loose change again?—”
“Sit down,” he orders. “Stop getting all worked up.”
“I’m worked up because it’s not fair.” I pace to the window, hands clenched, anger about to burst all the way through. But yelling won’t get us anywhere. I force myself to exhale slowly, then turn to face him with a calmer voice.
“Your perception of him is wrong. When his mother got arrested for that fake charity scam, the defense asked Dice to testify on her behalf. He refused and did the opposite. Knowing it meant she’d go away for a long time. Can you imagine the guts that took? To testify against your own mother?” I meet his gaze. “He did the right thing, as hard as it was. Do you honestly believe a man like that would steal from you?”
Maurice stares at me, saying nothing.
“I’m not asking for you to like him. Just give him a fair chance. And stop judging him by his mother’s sins.”
“I believe in honest work,” he finally says, his pride a thick wall between us. “His mother didn’t raise him that way.”
“That’s true. But that doesn’t mean Dice didn’t want better for himself. I know him. And I trust him. I hope that counts for something to you.”
His staunch expression shifts. Small but noticeable. “I’ll give it some thought.”
Same thing he said when I begged him to hire Dice. And he did. “Okay.” I nod, easing up. “Wanna meet Queenie?”
“Suppose I’d better if she’s going to be living here.”
I head back to the kitchen to get her and find Mom and Queenie on the floor, playing tug-of-war with a sock. Queenie’s tiny claws are latched on to the cotton with fierce determination.
“I heard raised voices,” Mom says, glancing up. Queenie, seizing the advantage, snatches her prize and hides under the table.
“I was defending Dice. He’s done so much for Docks. Maurice needs to let go of a past that wasn’t Dice’s fault. I finally cooled down enough to explain it rationally and asked him to trust me. He said he’d think about it.” I shrug. “We’ll see.”
She stands, wiping her hands down her jeans. “I don’t agree withhis views on Dice either. But it sounds like you and your father are working through your arguments in a healthier way.”
“I guess. It was less terrible than usual.”
“Progress, even small, is progress.”
I nod.
“You’re in love with Dice,” she says so matter-of-factly, I blink in surprise.
