“You know our relationship’s complicated, Vi.”
Standing tall, she turned to face her father, planting her hands on her hips. “Iknowthat you treat her like shit, and she deserves so much better.”
He actually smiled. “I tell her that all the time.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” she countered.
Harold looked sheepish. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“Why’d you stop by?”
“I just wanted to check on my girls. I saw Honor a few minutes ago. She mentioned you’re datin’ someone famous.”
Oh, brother. That was what brought him here? He wanted to hit up a famous person for money?
Before she could blast him for being an asshole, movement in front of the window caught her eye. She looked over in time to see Simon walking toward the door.
No. No, no, no.
Shit.
The door opened and Simon walked in looking good enough to eat. His gaze swung to her and a smile started to form.
“Hi,” she greeted in her customer service voice. “Welcome to Shelf Help. If there’s anything I can help you with, just let me know.”
It took only a second for Simon to catch on. “Thanks. I’m just lookin’ for now.”
“Take your time.” Violet turned back to her father. “Dad, I’ll be closin’ up in a minute.”
Harold watched as Simon walked toward the back of the store, turning back to her when he disappeared down one of the aisles.
“I came by to see if you wanted to get dinner sometime.”
“Dinner?”
He nodded.
Violet had been down this road too many times. She knew if she accepted the offer, she would end up eating alone at some restaurant because Harold was notorious for not showing up. Half the time, he didn’t even bother apologizing, claiming he simply forgot because he was busy doing something else. And since everything else was more important to him than his children, she usually believed him.
“Sure, Dad. How about tonight?” she said because she knew he would decline.
“I can’t tonight, sugar. Sorry.”
And now she got credit for accepting his offer. “You’re busy. I know.”
“I’m meetin’ someone.”
A woman, more than likely. And the chances were better than good that the woman he was meeting was not the wife or the girlfriend.
“Maybe another time, then.” Violet started toward him, intending to walk him to the door.
“Hey, Vi,” he said, sidestepping her. “I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
For Harold Anderson, a favor usually meant a loan. And her father’s definition of a loan did not consist of the payback part.
“I don’t have any money, Dad.”
“I just need a little. I’m good for it. My new job starts on Tuesday. I can have it for you by the end of the week.”
