Today is Friday, which means next week I’ll be done at Soul2Soul. If I wanted to get involved with her, that would be the time to do it.
Would she even consider a younger man?
“Not that much younger,” I mutter, kicking my feet up on my desk. “But she’s very condescending.”
And you love it,my brain points out. I ignore that.
When my phone rings, I’m grateful for the distraction. I don’t look at the caller ID, but I already know it’s Denice, because no one else calls me other than my dad, and he only calls when he wants something or needs to keep me in line.
“Hey.” Denice’s voice filters toward me, faintly distracted. “Want to come to dinner tonight? Is it too last minute? Or are you sick at all? I need to socialize with people who aren’t two weeks old.”
“Are you up to cooking?” I say with surprise. I’ve never had a baby, but I can’t imagine I’d want to prepare dinner for multiple people so soon after giving birth. “Or is Louis doing the cooking?”
“Louis is doing it,” she says promptly and sounding pleased. “I am on the couch, flopped sideways like a slug, and I do not intend to move until Nessa needs to eat again. But I am dying for social interaction.”
“Sure,” I say automatically. “I’ll come. I’m healthy. Nessie probably misses her favorite uncle, huh?”
“Don’t call her that. I did not birth the Loch Ness monster. And you’re her only uncle, so she doesn’t have a favorite.”
“I’d be her favorite if she had more.” I pause, my hand finding the Rubik’s cube by my keyboard. I pick it up and begin fiddling. “Is Dad coming?”
“Yes,” she says. “And he grudgingly agreed to bring a salad which means it will probably be one of those bags of premadeCaesar, so bring your own if you’re going to want something different.”
I wrinkle my nose because Caesar dressing makes me want to gag, but I don’t complain. “It’ll be fine,” I say instead. “I’ll be there.”
“Seven-thirty,” she says. “See you then. Be prepared to catch me up on anything new in your life, including your clear interest in my employee.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How’s she doing with Grandma’s?”
“It’s looking great,” I admit.
“I hope you’re paying her well.”
I grin at this. “See you in a bit.”
“Bye,” Denice says, and we hang up.
It’s time to start preparing myself to see my dad, I guess. I do better with our interactions if I know they’re coming. He’s not an evil human being. He’s just very flawed, and he expects a lot, and he treated my mother horribly. Those things are hard to set aside when I’m staring into his face.
I sigh.
Do I really want to keep staring into that face my entire life? He’ll always be my dad, and I’m not the kind of person to go no-contact. Not for this kind of situation. But I don’t actuallyhaveto work with him all the time, the way I do now.
I swallow the idea, the tempting tendrils of possibility that arise at these thoughts. Then I begin gathering my things into my bag so that I can leave.
I’ve just dropped a folder in when a knock sounds at my door. Shelly, maybe.
“Yeah?” I call absently.
But the door opens to reveal none other than Aurora, who by all accounts should be wrapping up her cleaning at my house right now. Didn’t she include Fridays?
But here she is, and she steps in without invitation. “Hi,” she says, her voice brisk.
I stare blankly at her. “Hi.”
“We should discuss my payment schedule.” Her appearance is businesslike, maybe a bit tired but otherwise professional and put together. She doesn’t say anything about me avoiding her—either she hasn’t noticed, or it’s not worth her time.
