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My Ex Boyfriend’s Daddy

Page 6

by Callahan, Kelli


  * * *

  My roommates were excited when I told them I was meeting someone for drinks, but their excitement waned when they found out it was not only my ex-boyfriend’s father but my old boss. They had been pushing me to stop working so hard and start dating more. I had a few offers from guys that came in the diner, but I always declined their invitations. I had been on a handful of dates—some of the guys were nice enough—I just didn’t know what I was looking for. I knew there needed to be a spark, and I hadn’t felt that yet, so I assumed Mr. Right was still out there somewhere—or maybe he passed me by when I wasn’t looking for him.

  I’m not sure I want to have to tell someone why I’m a twenty-one-year-old virgin anyway—there’s no easy way to explain it.

  The Skylark was a pretty fancy bar with a quiet atmosphere—that was all I really knew about it. As soon as I walked through the door, I wished I had picked somewhere else. My best dress didn’t look like it belonged on anyone in the room. They were wearing designer brands that cost more than my rent—I was wearing something I found at the thrift store on one of my monthly excursions. I didn’t have time to rethink my decision because Mr. Anderson was already seated, and I saw him motioning to me.

  “Wow, you look beautiful.” He stood up as I approached. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Thank you… I honestly don’t know.” I looked around for a menu and realized it was the kind of place that didn’t have them. “Wine, maybe?”

  “Red? White?” He tilted his head inquisitively.

  “Uh, white?” My response sounded like a question instead of an answer, and I think he picked up on it because he took care of my order from there.

  “So…” Mr. Anderson reached for his whiskey. “New York City, huh?”

  “Yep.” I nodded. “A long way from Penny Grove—well, I guess it’s not that far, but it sure feels like it.”

  “Did you ever get back in school?” He took a sip of his whiskey.

  “No.” I sighed and shook my head. “I thought about getting my GED, but never got around to it. I’ve been pretty busy with work…”

  “I can certainly understand that. Work keeps me busy as well.” He looked to his left as the waitress approached with my glass of wine.

  “Thank you.” I nodded to the waitress and took a sip of my wine. “How is the firm doing? I remember you were talking about hiring some new lawyers…”

  “We’ve expanded a lot.” He laughed under his breath. “We even had to move to a new office—oh, I bet you remember Henry Phillips, right?”

  “Yeah, I remember him.” I smiled. “He was the go-getter that you couldn’t stand, right?”

  “One in the same.” He laughed a little louder. “Well, he kept going and getting, so I had to make him a partner.”

  “Wow, so it’s not Anderson & Anderson anymore?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Nope, Anderson, Phillips, & Associates now.” He shrugged. “I might have to add a few more names to the building before long.”

  “That’s awesome!” My smile got wider. “It sounds like things are going very well for you then.”

  “I can’t complain.” He took a sip of his whiskey.

  “What about outside of work?” I took a quick peek at his left hand. “Is there no Mrs. Anderson yet?”

  “God no.” He exhaled sharply. “I did that once—never again.”

  “I thought you were dating someone though.” My eyes narrowed. “Jillian? Jennifer? No, Jessica!”

  “Jessica…” He nodded in confirmation. “It didn’t work out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I grimaced.

  “What about you?” He motioned to my left hand. “No diamond?”

  “Nah, I’m a long way from that—like, not-even-dating-anyone away from it.” I laughed under my breath.

  “I’m surprised. There have to be at least a million eligible bachelors in this city.” He raised both eyebrows.

  “Maybe…” I shrugged.

  I was worried that my conversation with Mr. Anderson was going to be awkward, but it wasn’t. He talked to me like a friend instead of the girl that used to date his son—the girl that thought she was going to marry him one day. He steered as far away from that subject as possible, to the point that I found myself wondering about Jake, just because he didn’t bring him up. One glass of wine turned into two, and by the time the third one was in front of me, I just couldn’t keep the subject out of the conversation. I needed to know, even if it hurt—it wasn’t like I was going to have another opportunity to ask. I never bothered to reactivate my Facebook account, and Val wasn’t going to talk about him—she would have probably told me he caught the bubonic plague and died if I dared to say his name.

  “Okay, you’re obviously trying to spare my feelings here.” I took a sip of wine and felt my stomach twist into a knot. “But I need to know—how is Jake doing?”

  “I wasn’t going to bring him up unless you did.” Mr. Anderson looked down and sighed.

  “Yeah, but he’s your son…” I felt the knot getting tighter.

  “Well…” He grimaced. “He decided to leave school after his first year.”

  “What?” I blinked in surprise. “He had a scholarship!”

  “Trust me, I know.” He exhaled sharply. “He moved to South Carolina, and now he’s enrolled at Columbia Theological Seminary.”

  “Wait…” I shook my head in confusion. “Like—to become a preacher?”

  “Yep.” Mr. Anderson nodded. “That’s what he wants to do. I’m doing my best to be supportive…”

  “I don’t even know what to say.” I took a sip of my wine. “I mean, good for him—if that’s what he wants…”

  “I’ll always be proud of him for following his dreams.” Mr. Anderson lifted his glass of whiskey and took a quick drink. “I just wish he would talk to me more. It’s been almost a year since we’ve spoken—the last time he came back to Penny Grove, he didn’t even come to see me.”

  “Damn…” I shook my head and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and I saw the pain on his face, but it appeared that he was doing his best to hide it.

  I really need to call my mom—it’s been a while.

  I tried to lighten the mood with a couple of self-deprecating jokes, since that always seemed to make people laugh—one thing about having people laugh at me for the wrong reasons, I came to appreciate humor that I generated on purpose. My current situation gave me plenty of material to work with, so I just let a few of them fly. I was beginning to wonder if the wine made me think I was funnier than I was, but I finally saw him crack a smile. He seemed to catch onto what I was trying to do and matched my waitress jokes with a couple of lawyer jokes—by the time our glasses were empty, we were both laughing, and the atmosphere felt so much lighter than it did when I asked about Jake.

  “It’s been a while since I really laughed.” He leaned back in his chair. “Do we dare go for another drink, or should we call it a night?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “You’re the one with all the responsibility. If you show up to work tomorrow with a hangover, someone might go to jail—the worst thing that could happen to me is a few missed tips.”

  “I’m just researching case law and looking at evidence tomorrow.” He motioned to our waitress. “I can handle another one.”

  “Okay.” I smiled.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I got that buzzed—I was definitely feeling it by the time we finished our last drink. It was a good thing I relied on public transportation because there was no way in hell that I would have been able to drive. I was all set to walk to the subway when we stepped outside, but Mr. Anderson didn’t think it was safe that time of night—he obviously had no idea how often I took the subway at that time of night, but I decided not to argue when he offered to pay for an Uber. We were both too drunk to make our points with any sort of clarity.

  “Still u
sing that thing, huh?” Mr. Anderson raised an eyebrow when I pulled my Juul out of my purse.

  “This one is a little different than the vape pen I used to borrow from Val in high school.” I lifted it to my lips and took a quick puff. “Ever tried it? I bet it’s better than a cigar.”

  “No, and I gave those up a while back.” He chuckled under his breath and motioned when a car approached. “I think this is your ride.”

  “Thank you for tonight.” I looked up at him. “I had a lot of fun.”

  “Me too.” He nodded. “I’m probably going to be in town pretty regularly for the next couple of months—at least until I get things sorted out for my case. Want to get together again?”

  “Sure.” I smiled. “I would like that.”

  “Okay, let me get your number…” He motioned to my phone.

  We exchanged numbers, and then I got into my Uber. I made a silly face on the window as it pulled away and got one more laugh out of him. I was definitely intoxicated. There was no doubt about that. I found myself thinking about him—with a smile on my face—the entire way back to my apartment. I couldn’t remember the last time I had that much fun with anyone, and I would have never expected to laugh so much after talking about Jake. The wound on my heart didn’t feel like it was reopened. The scar was still intact. Our lives had gone in very different directions, and what we had was simply over. I accepted that the day I left Penny Grove, but I don’t think I ever really came to terms with it.

  It feels like I got a strange sense of closure tonight. Maybe that’s what I’ve needed for a very long time…

  Chapter Eight

  Arlo

  I enjoyed my evening with Phoebe. I didn’t know if I would—I mainly asked her to get together for a drink because I felt obligated to do so after running into her again for the first time since she left Penny Grove. I always wondered what happened to her. In the back of my mind, I hoped she found happiness and moved on, but I had no way to confirm it. It was nice to see that she was doing okay, even if she was obviously struggling to stay afloat in a city that required a lot more income to live comfortably than what she could have possibly made at that diner.

  She deserves so much more. She had her life all planned out back then—until things fell apart with Jake.

  I always thought my son was a fool for breaking up with Phoebe, and what I couldn’t share with her, was that I didn’t hide those feelings from him. It was part of the reason we were no longer on speaking terms. There was more to it than that, but he never forgave me for taking her side, as he put it. I knew what real love looked like, and I saw in her eyes the day she came looking for him. The years had extinguished it, and that didn’t really surprise me—he threw away someone that could have made him very happy, but that was his mistake to make.

  Over a stupid fucking game? The fantasies of a teenage girl? He has no idea what he lost…

  Phoebe wasn’t a teenage girl anymore. She had blossomed into a very beautiful young woman—if I was ten years younger, I would have been tempted to share more than a drink with her. I was extremely surprised to find out that she was still single. Someone needed to fix that because she deserved all the happiness in the world, and I knew there was a guy out there who could give it to her. One more drink and I might not have cared about the age difference—two more, and I probably wouldn’t have cared that she used to date my son. It was a good thing we stopped when we did because she wasn’t the only person in New York City that was going to be sleeping in an empty bed.

  Mine has been ice-cold for way too long…

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning with a bit of a hangover, but I managed to drag my ass out of bed. A few hours later, I was set up in a conference room at Hart Consulting—trying to make sense of the case I was working on. The company was owned by Demi Hart, and our families had been friends for a very long time. Her father was originally from Penny Grove, and mine used to handle all of their legal work before Hart Consulting relocated to New York City. The lawyers that worked at my firm thought we were stretching ourselves too thin when I agreed to let Hart Consulting put us on retainer, but I thought it was going to be an easy way to collect some passive income—I never expected Demi Hart to get arrested for embezzlement.

  “They didn’t tell me you were here…” The conference room door opened, and Demi walked in.

  “Well—for one, you shouldn’t be here.” I looked up at her in confusion. “You got arrested for stealing money from the company!”

  “But it’s my company.” She tilted her head with a stare of confusion that reflected even more bewilderment than mine.

  “Yes, but until these charges are cleared, you need to stay as far away from here as possible.” I put down the document I was reviewing. “Seriously. You’ve already lost most of your clients—the ones that are still doing business with you need to believe someone else is handling the company until this shit is cleared up.”

  “Is that the legal advice I’m paying you for?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “I would hope that some of the corporate attorneys that work for you would have already given it to you…” I exhaled sharply. “Or did you choose to ignore them?”

  “I wasn’t sure if they knew what they were talking about.” She huffed and sighed. “Fine, I’ll go to Cabot Beach for a few days—I could use a vacation anyway.”

  “This is going to take more than a few days.” I narrowed my eyes. “But they didn’t say you couldn’t leave the state. Maybe that’s for the best.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that Demi Hart was guilty—but what I couldn’t figure out was if her guilt was due to malicious intent or just carelessness. Sometimes I would flat out ask my clients, but I didn’t want to insult her—not when she was a family friend. My plan was to try and paint a picture that showed her embezzlement was simply an oversight instead of premeditated. It was the best shot she had at avoiding prison. I didn’t know if her firm would survive to have another fiscal year that wasn’t in the red, but that wasn’t my job—I just needed to make sure the orange jumpsuit she had to wear to her bail hearing was the last one she put on.

  This is a lot more complicated than I realized. I need to talk to Henry…

  I reviewed a few more files and made some notes; then I walked to the window so that I could call Henry. Just my luck—he was in a deposition and wouldn’t be able to call me back for a couple of hours. I had a lot of those ahead of me as well before the case ever saw trial. I had hoped I would be able to make a few trips to the city and handle things but take care of the bulk of the work from my office in Penny Grove. It was looking like that wasn’t going to be as feasible as I hoped. I kept going over the documents in front of me until my phone lit up, and I saw that I had a text message from Henry.

  Henry: Hey, we just took a break. Sorry I couldn’t take your call earlier. How are things going in New York?

  Arlo: This is going to take a lot longer than I thought, and I need a couple of extra resources…

  Henry: Good thing we charge an hourly rate on top of that retainer fee. What do you mean by extra resources?

  Arlo: I need another attorney to take the second chair and probably a paralegal. I’m going to see if Frank can come help me.

  Henry: Frank will not be happy with you if he has to leave his girlfriend. You know we’re tapped right? We’ve got a lot of cases on the docket…

  Arlo: Yeah, I know.

  Henry: Can you handle it without a second chair for a month or two? That would be easier…

  Arlo: Maybe, but if I do that, someone is going to have to handle some of my cases in Penny Grove.

  Henry: I should be able to work something out. We’ll talk when you get back.

  Arlo: Okay.

  I spent the rest of the day doing what I could at Hart Consulting. That mainly consisted of organizing things for my next visit and mentally running through my options. I needed more resources and that meant bodies—if it wasn’t going to be poss
ible to bring another attorney on board, then I needed to work smarter instead of harder. I could have just pulled rank as senior partner and demanded to have someone join the team, but I knew Henry was right—we had a lot going on and a lot of cases that needed their attention. I could drag Frank to the city, but he wasn’t going to like being away from his girlfriend. He would do it—but he would complain a lot.

  Fuck, maybe I should just try to hire someone from outside the firm. I hate doing that, but it might be my only option. Unless…

  It was a crazy thought, but there was someone in New York City that I knew—someone who had experience working at the firm. Phoebe wasn’t an attorney or a paralegal, but she knew how to organize documents, and she was smart enough for me to guide through the rest of it. An extra set of hands would go a long way because I already had a stack of files I needed to organize, and I simply didn’t have the time to do that while I was trying to build the base. It wasn’t the best option in the world, but I knew I could trust Phoebe.

  I bet she could use the money. I’m going to text her.

  Arlo: Hey, got a minute?

  Phoebe: I’m just leaving work. What’s up? I didn’t think I would hear from you so soon!

  Arlo: Yeah, I’m about to head back to Penny Grove, but I will need some help when I get back. Any chance you would be interested in a new job?

  Phoebe: I don’t know… I’ve been working at the diner for a while, and my boss has always treated me well, I would hate to leave him in a bind. What kind of job is it?

  Arlo: Working for me. I need some help with this case, and you’ve got experience.

  Phoebe: All I did was scan documents and organize them…

  Arlo: That’s exactly what I need.

  Phoebe: It would just be temporary, right? I don’t know if I can even think about leaving my job for something that isn’t permanent.

  Arlo: A case like this could take months—it might be a couple of years before we ever go to trial.

 

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