Aiden clears his throat before he speaks. “He was the life of the party, he loved entertaining people, telling jokes, and being the center of attention. He had the loudest and most identifiable laugh I’d ever heard; it made you want to laugh along with it. I’m sure you already know how big of a sports fanatic he was, we have that in common, and it was the majority of what we spoke about. But there were a few times Collin confided in me, but even I didn’t know about you till the end. I think that a lot of people have a hard time remembering Collin as this larger than life loving person and also having a secret daughter.”
“What was he like with Zach?” I ask and wonder if I’m crossing a line.
“Are you sure you want to know?” Aiden asks, looking at me. His face is soft, like he knows telling me is going to hurt me, but I’m a bit of a masochist as I nod my head yes. “He was the best dad you could ask for. Gave Zach the world, went to all his sporting events, took him on vacation, told him to follow his dreams. If anything, he probably spoiled Zach too much, that’s why he’s such a prick now.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes out of me and Aiden just smiles and shakes his head. I pick up the next bat and when I take the sticker off I wince and gasp.
“You all right?” he asks and I look down at the drop of blood.
“Splinter,” I wince and put my finger in my mouth. He stands up and taps the table for me to sit on it. I oblige almost immediately and he seems surprised but pleased. Since I’m wearing a dress, he stands to the side of my thighs, his muscular leg touching mine, and I do my best to ignore it. Which is impossible because it’s a very nice thigh. I watch his face as he takes my hand in his callused fingers. I wonder how his fingers are that rough when he works at an office. I can’t help but look at his large hands encompassing mine as he squeezes my finger, and I wince.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s in there deep. Let me get the first aid kit.”
“It’s fine,” I say, even though it does hurt.
“It’s not. Let me go get the kit.” Aiden walks off, and I try to get the little bitch out of my finger while he’s gone with no luck. He returns with the kit and digs out a pair of tweezers, disinfectant and a Band-Aid.
It takes him a good three minutes until he gets the offensive piece of wood out. “Little fucker,” he mumbles as he puts the splinter down and unconsciously brings my finger tip to his lips. “All better.” He must not even realize he does it, as he puts the disinfectant on and a plain skin-tone Band-Aid. “You’re on sticker duty. I’ll take them off, you put them on.”
“I can keep taking them off.” He gives me a stern look as I raise my hands in mock surrender. “All right, I’ll put labels on.”
“Good—” He stops himself mid-sentence and sits back down, continuing to take off labels.
I cannot start to have a crush on my boss. I look down at my bandage-covered finger and realize it’s too late. A simple kiss on my finger, and a tiny bit of praise has me done for—it makes me feel pathetic—but I can’t stop the lingering feeling growing in my chest if I tried.
7
KISSING PRETTY GIRL’S FINGERS
I kissed her fucking finger.
What the fuck was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking, I just acted and it was so natural. I mean she just saved our asses. I can only imagine the outcry if we had handed these out at the game tomorrow. It really looked like a giant fucking dick, and Jessa saved us from that embarrassment. I’m thankful to her, but also in awe. She noticed the problem, came up with the solution and is willingly here, with me, making this right.
Not only is she here and not bitching, she’s smiling often, she’s talking to me openly. So when she got hurt, I felt guilty, and I wanted to make it right. I kissed her finger and nearly called her a good girl.
I cannot feel this way about my dead friend’s daughter. The daughter he wants me to mentor and take care of. Certainly Collin didn’t have it in mind that I’d be kissing her finger or thinking about how cute she looks with her dark hair in a bun on the top of her head.
Part of me wants to tell her to go home and I’ll spend all night doing this myself. It will at least stop me from looking at her and noticing things about her. Things I shouldn’t be fucking noticing: like she fidgets a lot, touching her face, her dress, and her hair. Or that I can tell immediately when she’s flustered by the tint on her cheeks. I shouldn’t like the way she looks at me either, with her big brown eyes fanned by full lashes. I definitely shouldn’t like the way she looked at me after I kissed her fucking fingertip.
She puts the stickers on in silence while The Kinks play in the background. I check the time and we’ve been at it a few hours, but it feels like the dent is small. I’ll wait until I get any hints that she’s tired and we’ll call it a night. We will have a few hours with the whole staff to correct these. I figure if we can get halfway, we will be able to fix all of them.
Jessa’s phone is buzzing on the table, and she ignores it.
“Do you need to get that?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“Nope. But I could use something else to drink. Do we have anything else here?” she asks, and I’m immediately on my feet. What the hell is going on with me. I go to the fridge and bring us both a bottle of water. “Thanks,” she says softly as she takes off the lid, and I watch her throat move as she swallows a large gulp.
The silence begins to get uncomfortable and I wonder if I made it this awkward when Jessa speaks. “Is this something they do every year?” she asks, waving a bat before putting a sticker on it and throwing it in the box.
“Yeah, I think we’ve sponsored it for a good eight years now. We always do a promotional product for the event.”
“Did we make these?” she asks, and I give her a small smile.
“Yeah, saves cost and Collin was always adamant that it should be a Kemper’s product.”
“Makes sense,” she says. “He loved this company?”
“I wish you had the chance to really get to know him,” I say, truly meaning it. It’s got to be hard to hear about your own father second hand. Not only that, but to continually hear what a good man he was, when he wasn’t to you.
