Neighbors with the Single Dad (The Single Dads of Seattle Book 8)

by Whitley Cox

  She had no intention of disrupting his business meeting, but it would be cool to see if she recognized his important client. Maybe the guy’s face was on a billboard or something. Perhaps a bus bench or a television commercial.

  Ducking behind a column that held up a streetlight just outside, she scanned the interior of the restaurant, looking for a sexy man with dark hair and a slightly crooked nose.

  She spotted him, and the smile that cracked on her face made the heat in her cheeks travel south.

  Only she didn’t just see Scott and his handsome smile or the twinkle in his dark eyes. It was who he was sitting with, who he was laughing with.

  The blood pumping through her veins slowly went from sizzling with desire and anticipation to ice-cold with fear.

  She was frozen in place, with concrete in her feet, stone in her gut and a frigid fist violently squeezing her heart. She couldn’t breathe. She. Could. Not. Breathe.

  It was Todd.

  Scott was smiling, Scott was laughing, Scott was joking with Todd.

  With her ex.

  The ex who had broken her down so much, she was still picking up the pieces of her soul. He had pulverized the entire entity of who she was into such minuscule fragments, there were small gaps and chips that would never be filled as she struggled each day to tape and glue the shards of herself back together. Todd had destroyed who she was as a person, a woman, a wife, a mother, and a friend. He’d alienated her from her family and friends. Now all she could do was hope that the pieces she did find, the pieces she managed to stick back together, would eventually be enough. Be whole enough to feel somewhat human, somewhat normal, somewhat like her old self.

  He was demon in the flesh who haunted her day and night, and even though she had a restraining order against him, she knew that Todd didn’t really give a flying fuck about that kind of thing. If he wanted to hurt her, he could, and he would. Todd was above the law. He always had been.

  With the little bit of energy she had left, she spun herself around and out of sight of the window, plastering her back against the cool concrete column, her chest now heaving, struggling to draw in each much-needed breath as the fist around her heart and the anvil on her lungs began to squeeze and press down even harder.

  Maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her.

  That couldn’t be Todd.

  Not with Scott. Not her Scott.

  She knew if things between her and Scott progressed further that eventually one day he might meet her evil ex. She’d just hoped that she would have been able to control the environment in which they met. But like this … no. Never.

  Todd was Scott’s client.

  Todd was Scott’s boss.

  This couldn’t be happening. She had to check again. Maybe she’d actually fallen while getting out of the cab, hit her head on the curb and was currently in a coma in the hospital, dreaming about her demonic ex laughing like old pals with her new boyfriend—or whatever Scott was.

  Or maybe it was just a man who looked like Todd. He was, after all, tall, dark and handsome—but so were a lot of men. So was Scott. Only unlike Scott, who seemed to be kind and decent and handsome beneath the skin, Todd was nothing but pure garbage once you pulled back the gossamer-thin veil of humanity he presented to the world.

  Hesitation filled her movements as she peered back around the column into the restaurant again.

  Please don’t let it be Todd. Anybody but Todd. Satan himself would be better than Todd.

  Son of a bitch.

  Her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. And she was almost certain she wasn’t in a coma.

  Nope.

  That was Todd, the ice-blue eyed devil himself in a two-thousand-dollar suit.

  With his smarmy smile, his dashing good looks and his psychopathic charm.

  Was Scott falling for it?

  He tossed his head back and laughed.

  Shit. Not only was he falling for Todd’s charm, he was eating it up out of the man’s palm.

  More ice dripped down her spine until she was once again frozen in place. Unable to move. So now all she could do was stare. Watch in horror as the two men, one she hated more than anything in the world, and one she could easily see herself one day loving, laughed and chatted, drank beer and ate pretzels like they were old college buddies.

  Todd’s eyes flashed up from his drink and swung in her direction. His steely gaze narrowed as if he recognized her or at the very least saw something behind her. But just as quick, his focus shifted back to Scott, who said something that made Todd laugh.

  The wind was warm, but she nonetheless shivered where she stood, pulling her fitted black blazer tighter across her front.

  She needed to get out of there. No way was she going into that bar now. No way was she going to run the risk of letting Todd see her, let alone realize that she was with Scott.

  That had disaster written all over it.

  With a still-heaving chest, foggy brain and trembling hands, she whipped her body back out of view and stood behind the column, her back once again up against the concrete.

  Doubts crashed through her like the biggest of waves in a Pacific winter storm. White caps, squalls and all. She was drowning in doubt, in fear and confusion. Struggling to get her bearings and figure out which way was up. Her brain was hazy. She was losing oxygen. She couldn’t see the surface.

  Her fingers were glacier-cold as she fumbled for her phone from her purse and dialed her sister.

  “Todd is in having a drink with Scott,” she blurted out when Celeste’s curious hello came across the line.

  “What the hell? Why?”

  “I think Todd’s his client. I mean, it makes sense. Fletcher Holdings is huge.”

  “Has Todd seen you yet?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m still outside. I can’t go inside. I can’t let him see me. I … I’m not even sure I can face Scott right now. I know he probably has no idea who Todd is to me, but knowing that the two of them have been so chummy for the last couple of hours makes me want to vomit.”

  “Understandable. The man is scum.” Celeste brought her voice down to barely a whisper, which meant she was within earshot of small, nosy, curious ears.

  “I’m going to call another cab and just come home.”

  “But what about the book signing?”

  Allison DeWitt be damned. First date with Scott be damned. She was not mentally equipped to deal with any of this right now. She hadn’t seen Todd in months, and things were finally getting better. She was sleeping better. She had cut her therapy sessions down from once a week to once a month. Her kids were sleeping in their own beds—most of the time. They were all settling in. Life was good.

  But this—seeing him with Scott, she could already feel the setbacks happening.

  “Come home,” Celeste said sternly over the phone, interrupting Eva’s thoughts. “I can practically hear you spiraling out of control over the phone. Get your ass home. Text Scott once you’re in the cab. If he’s a decent guy, he’ll understand. Then maybe one day you can tell him the whole ugly story of terrible Todd.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Get out of there,” Celeste said. “If Todd leaves and catches you standing out there … ”

  Shit. Right. That would not be good. The narcissist would probably think she was stalking him and interested in getting back together, while the only way she wanted Todd Fletcher was a minimum of five hundred feet away, though if she had her way, six feet under would do too.

  With a final glance through the window, the phone and her sister still glued to her ear, she tucked her purse under her arm and headed down the sidewalk. Away from Prime Sports Bar and Grill, away from Todd, and regrettably away from Scott.

  She only hoped that this wasn’t her walking away from Scott forever.

  He seemed like the kind of guy who was worth waiting for. Hopefully he would wait for her too.

  10

  A flurry of red out of the corner of Scott’s eye drew his
attention away from the narcissistic douche-canoe in front of him. God, how much longer was he going to have to laugh at this man’s crude jokes?

  Relishing anything that could distract his attention away from the pretentious fucker with the sparkly Rolex, he glanced out the window only to see a black coat and long, streaming red hair disappear down the sidewalk and out of view.

  He hadn’t known her long, but he’d watched her walk enough to know Eva’s walk, even from the back. That was her.

  But why was she leaving?

  Where was she going?

  His watch—which was not a sparkly-ass Rolex—said she should have been there by now. They would only have time to grab maybe one drink before they needed to head to the book signing. And even though he loved Prime and his buddy Mason, who was currently tending bar, this was not the place for an intimate and romantic first date.

  Damn it, he needed to ditch Todd—and fast. But the fucker would not shut up about himself or his success or how much he hated his ex-wife. Yeah, that had been a fun topic to get on—not. Scott made the mistake of mentioning his ex-wife in passing, and that Freddie was with her for the week, and apparently that was the only opening Todd needed to launch into a full-on ex-hating diatribe.

  The man was convincing though. By the end of it, Scott wasn’t a fan of the woman either. If she was half as terrible as Todd made her out to be, Scott hoped the woman got a hardcore reality check soon and did the right thing by her kids by seeking professional help.

  Those poor kids.

  A drunk mother who was also addicted to pills and had a penchant for stealing—jeez. And here he thought he’d had it rough with Katrin and her lack of consideration.

  So as much as Todd appeared to be one of the world’s biggest tools, at least his sons had him in their lives. A successful, healthy, stable parental figure.

  He let out a slow breath.

  At least Katrin wasn’t an alcoholic, pill-popping kleptomaniac.

  Silver lining.

  Todd finished his drink and exhaled, his eyes wandering over to the backside of the waitress who was currently bent slightly over a table to wipe it. “I’m going to hit the men’s room, then head out.”

  Scott nodded then caught Mason’s eye, nodding again. “I’ll grab the bill.”

  And send Eva a text message to see where the heck she went.

  “Thanks, man,” Todd said, his eyes now lasered in on the waitress. The way he scanned her body as she stood up made Scott uncomfortable, but the waitress—who was most likely no older than twenty-five, if that—seemed to squirm beneath his gaze as well.

  “Hazel!” Mason’s voice bellowed across the bar, which caused the waitress to snap to attention. “Need you over here.” Relief crossed the young woman’s face as she hightailed it across the busy bar toward the safe haven of her big, tattooed boss and the four-foot-wide solid wood bar that would now be between her and Todd.

  Todd’s nostrils flared as he watched Hazel cross the bar, his eyes turning a dark, stormy gray-blue that made the hair on the back of Scott’s neck stand up.

  Clearing his throat and knowing that he needed to go and say goodbye to Mason before he left to find Eva, he gave one final wave to Todd and headed toward the bar. Todd barely acknowledged him though. He was too busy scoping out another waitress across the room.

  What a pig.

  “I’ve got my eye on him,” Mason said as Scott approached his good friend at the bar and dug out his credit card from his wallet. This was a business meeting, so the company was paying for it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t collect his AirMiles while he was treating the douchebag client to some top-shelf scotch.

  Todd still hadn’t retreated to the bathroom like he said he was. His head was pointed at one of the televisions now, but his eyes were on the blonde waitress who was clearing a table to his right.

  “Guy’s a real pig,” Mason said through gritted teeth.

  “He hasn’t even touched me, and yet I feel like I need a shower just after the way he was looking at me,” Hazel said, grabbing Scott’s credit card from him and ringing him up on the cash register.

  “He’s not a friend,” Scott said, feeling the need to make that clear. “Business relationship only. But I need to keep the man happy if I want to keep my job. I’m sorry if—”

  Hazel held up a hand and shook her head. “You did nothing wrong, Mr. Dixon.”

  “I keep telling you to call me Scott,” he said with an eye roll.

  “Where’s your date?” Mason asked, plunking a full, frothy beer stein down on the bar next to a couple of lowballs filled with ice, clear liquid and limes on the rim.

  Thanking Hazel for his receipt and credit card, Scott shoved both back into his wallet. “No clue. I thought for sure I saw her heading down the sidewalk away from the bar. Her hair is pretty unmistakable. I don’t know why she was leaving though. I said to meet me here.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. No messages.

  “Maybe she misunderstood,” Hazel offered, her eyes holding a sympathy usually reserved for those who had been rejected. Scott didn’t know that look well, but he’d seen it given enough to his friends—particularly those guys at that bachelor party all those weeks ago—that he recognized it, and it felt weird being directed at him.

  He shook his head. “No, she knew the plan.” He punched in a quick everything okay? message to Eva and then waited. If she didn’t respond, he’d call her. What if that wasn’t her outside on the sidewalk and her cab was stuck in traffic? Or what if that was her on the sidewalk and she’d fallen and twisted her ankle?

  He waited a few moments for a reply but got nothing.

  “Gonna call her?” Mason asked.

  He nodded and pulled up her number on his phone, hitting dial and then putting it to his ear.

  It rang and rang and rang until the sweet and sultry sound of her voicemail came up. Hello, you’ve reached Eva Marchand of Eva’s Hair and Esthetics. If you’d like to make an appointment, please hit one to be directed to my business line. If you’re calling with regards to a personal matter or something regarding the boys, please leave a message after the beep, and I will return your call as soon as I can. Thank you and have a great day.

  God, he could listen to that message and that sexy, gravelly voice of hers all day long.

  He waited for the beep.

  Beep.

  “Eva, it’s Scott. I’m at Prime and just finished up my work meeting. I’m sorry it ran late. The guy wouldn’t stop talking about himself. Anyway, I thought I saw you heading down the sidewalk, but maybe that wasn’t you. I hope everything is okay. Call me back. If you’re still at home, I can come get you. We can grab drinks after the signing, or if we’re too late for the signing, just go grab drinks and a bite. Please call me back and let me know you’re okay. I can’t wait to see you.”

  He hung up and let out a slow breath. That was a long message, and he fought back the feelings that he was coming on too strong and tried to convince himself that he was just showing her that he was interested. That he cared about her. Because he did. He was a nice guy, and even though Eva hadn’t gone into explicit details about her ex, he knew that after what that guy had put her through, she deserved a nice guy to treat her like the goddess that she was.

  Mason and Hazel were both standing behind the bar watching him, but then their eyes flicked up at the same time and followed something—or more likely someone—behind him.

  A hard thwack landed on his shoulder. “Thanks for the drinks, buddy,” Todd said, the scent of his musky cologne encircling Scott and overpowering his senses. It was probably embedding itself in his jacket too. He’d be smelling Todd for days now. “We’ll chat later in the week, okay?”

  Scott smacked on a big, fake smile. “You got it, Todd. Looking forward to working with you.”

  Todd’s smile was big and grew even bigger when his hawk-like stare shifted to Hazel behind the bar. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The predator always remaine
d quiet when stalking its prey. His smile was now toothy and sinister.

  Hazel swallowed then smiled grimly. “See you next time.”

  The wooden doors banged shut a moment later, and all three of them watched as Todd sauntered down the sidewalk toward his waiting car and driver.

  Hazel shuddered. “God, he’s gross.”

  “Again, I’m not thrilled to be working with him. Food in my kid’s belly and a roof over his head are what drive me to put up with tools like that.”

  “How is Freddie?” Mason asked.

  “Doing great, thanks. So happy that Kellen and Lucas moved in next door. Our neighborhood needs some young blood in it. I think the boys will have a blast together this summer.”

  Mason nodded. “Good, good.”

  Scott checked his phone again. Still no call or text.

  He was beginning to worry that something was wrong. Like maybe her cab driver had lost control behind the wheel, had a seizure or something and both he and Eva were upside down in a ditch on the I-5 while emergency vehicles blocked off traffic and the fire department prepared the jaws of life.

  Or her phone died and she’s just running late, you morbid freak.

  “I’m going to run back to her place to see if everything is okay,” he said, not really paying attention to Mason or Hazel behind the bar anymore. He was seriously starting to worry about Eva. He’d always had a bit of an overactive imagination, which was probably why he loved fantasy novels so much. They were gasoline for the bonfire of his creative thoughts.

  “Let me know how it all goes,” Mason called behind him as he pushed the doors open and stepped out into the still warm April air. Spring was a funny season, particularly in the Pacific Northwest. One minute you could be washing your car in your driveaway in a T-shirt, working on your tan, then the next day you’re digging your gloves and knit cap back out of the crawl space because a cold front had just blown in.

  He reached his truck in no time and hit the fob, taking one last glance at his phone before he started the engine. They were most likely going to miss the book signing, and as much as that seriously sucked, he was more concerned about Eva and that she was all right.