My Ex Boyfriend’s Daddy

by Callahan, Kelli

  Phoebe: So, you’re staying in the city until it goes to trial?

  Arlo: No, but I’ll need someone on my team until then. I promise it will pay more than the diner…

  Phoebe: You have no idea how much I make at the diner.

  Arlo: Name your price.

  Phoebe: Can I think about this? I’m not sure…

  Arlo: Of course. Let me know.

  I’d rather work with someone I know, so if she’s not interested, then Frank may just have to be upset with me for a little while…

  Chapter Nine

  Phoebe

  Mr. Anderson’s job offer was an interesting one. I made decent money at the diner, but it was barely enough to get by. Still, I had done my fair share of grunt work when I first moved to New York City, and I didn’t want to start over at the bottom of the food chain somewhere else once Mr. Anderson was finished with his case. I spent my evening dwelling on it, and it was still on my mind the next day when I arrived at the diner. I counted my tips after my shift was over and contemplating leaving all of that behind for something that wasn’t a sure thing—it didn’t sound like a good idea, even if I did enjoy working for Mr. Anderson when I was a teenager. I needed more stability than I had back then.

  I need to let him know so he can start looking for someone else if he really needs help.

  Phoebe: Hey, I thought about it, and while I appreciate the opportunity, I don’t think it’s a good idea.

  Arlo: That’s disappointing. How can I change your mind?

  Phoebe: I don’t think you can.

  Arlo: Can we talk about it in person? I will be back in the city in a couple of days.

  Phoebe: I thought it was a couple of weeks?

  Arlo: I’ve had to make some adjustments to my plan, which is why I need help, to begin with. Just hear me out…

  Phoebe: Okay. Can we talk about it over a couple of drinks?

  Arlo: I was thinking dinner—it’s a business expense, so we can go anywhere you want.

  Phoebe: It’s not going to be a business expense if I say no. :)

  Arlo: I’m hoping for the opposite. Are there any restaurants in New York City that you’ve been dying to try? Pick something fancy…

  Phoebe: Uh… I don’t want to waste your money. Anywhere is fine.

  Arlo: Let me do some research, and I’ll let you know.

  Phoebe: Talk to you soon.

  It seemed that Mr. Anderson wasn’t going to easily take no for an answer. He was a lawyer, so he was used to negotiating and arguing until he got what he wanted—I had a feeling that it was going to be a lot more difficult to decline his offer in person. The next morning, I woke up to find that he had sent me the name of a restaurant—Liliana’s—and said that we had reservations for seven o’clock. A quick trip to Google confirmed that it was a fairly expensive place, and one where my best dress was going to stick out like the thrift store original it was—a lot more than it did at The Skylark.

  Damn it; I need something else to wear.

  “Hey, Bianca…” I walked into the living room where my roommate was hanging out before she left for work. “Is there any chance I could borrow a dress from you?”

  “Of course.” She looked up at me and nodded. “Got a date?”

  “I’m having dinner with my old boss from Penny Grove.” I shook my head quickly. “It’s not a date.”

  “Didn’t you just have drinks with him?” She tilted her head inquisitively.

  “Yeah, but we were catching up.” I sighed. “Now he’s offering me a new job.”

  “Nice!” She smiled. “Take anything you want from my closet. Oh, hey—can I get a Juul pod from you? I don’t want to have to stop on my way to work.”

  “Mango?” I walked over to my purse.

  “Yep!” She nodded.

  After I left Penny Grove, I traded occasionally borrowing Val’s vape pen for occasionally bumming cigarettes from people at my first job. Before long, I was buying my own packs and telling myself I needed to quit every time I lit up—especially when I had to go stand outside in the freezing cold. My new roommate, Bianca, convinced me to try her Juul one night when we were drinking, and I ended up buying one the next day. I still planned on quitting—eventually—but I wasn’t there yet.

  Maybe tomorrow…

  * * *

  I got off the subway about ten minutes before I was supposed to meet Mr. Anderson, and it was a fifteen-minute walk, so I knew I was going to be late. Enzo needed me to make a few deliveries after my shift, and that put me behind schedule. I sent a quick text message to Mr. Anderson and tried to power walk in my heels, which didn’t work as well as I hoped. I rarely wore heels, and my feet were not happy with my decision, so I had to slow down after a couple of blocks. I ended up getting to the restaurant in fourteen minutes instead of fifteen, but I wasn’t sure if the extra minute was worth it, considering how much my feet hurt by the time I got there.

  “Wow, somehow, you’re even more beautiful tonight than you were when we met for drinks.” Mr. Anderson walked up to me as soon as I entered the restaurant.

  “I borrowed a dress.” I looked down and blushed. “Thank you.”

  We got seated at a table near the back of the restaurant—right in front of the window. I wondered if Liliana’s had decided to put us on display the same way that Enzo did when his well-dressed customers walked in. Mr. Anderson ordered a glass of whiskey, which seemed to be his go-to, and helped me decide on a wine. It didn’t take our waiter long to bring our drinks, and we were still trying to figure out what we wanted to eat when they arrived. Mr. Anderson asked for a few more minutes, and we went over some options before we settled on pasta-for-two. I hoped that I could save room for dessert because everything on their menu looked absolutely divine.

  “Alright, so let’s talk about this job…” Mr. Anderson reached for his whiskey.

  “I suppose we have to.” I nodded. “Otherwise this isn’t a business dinner, right?”

  “Exactly.” He sipped his whiskey. “What’s it going to take for you to come work for me?”

  “Mr. Anderson…” I shook my head and sighed.

  “You know I hate being called that.” He narrowed his eyes. “Whether you end up working for me or not…”

  “Right.” I reached for my wine. “Well I don’t think it would appropriate for me to call you Daddy anymore…”

  “What’s wrong with Arlo?” He tilted his head. “My grandfather was quite fond of his name—that’s why my dad gave it to me.”

  “Fine—Arlo.” I took a sip of my wine. “It still sounds weird when I say it.”

  “Hopefully you’ll get used to it. If not, you can always just go with hey you.” He put his drink down and laughed.

  “That might work.” I shrugged.

  “I’ll make a deal with you. If you come to work for me, you can call me whatever you want—even Mr. Anderson.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “Aren’t there plenty of qualified people in New York City?” I tilted my head inquisitively. “You know, people that actually graduated from high school.”

  “I’m sure there are.” He nodded. “But I know I can trust you. This is a big case, and it’s getting attention from the media. I’d prefer to avoid bringing in someone from outside the firm if I can help it.”

  “I don’t work for your firm.” I shook my head quickly.

  “You used to—same thing.” He reached for his whiskey. “I’m offering you a chance to work in an office building. You won’t be on your feet all day, and you’re going to make more money.”

  “Yes, but it’s temporary.” I let out a long sigh. “What will I do in six months when you’re all done with this case and go back to Penny Grove?”

  “Find something else?” He shrugged. “Is it really that hard to find a job as a waitress?”

  “No, but I’ve been at the diner long enough to have seniority. I get the best tables—which means the tips are nice.” I reached for my wine. “I know that may sound silly on t
hat side of the table, but it could be the difference between working one job or two.”

  “Okay, then how about this…” Arlo folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll give you a one year contract, which means you’ll know exactly when you need to start looking for something else—and while you’re working for me, you can finally get your GED so you will have a few more options.”

  A one year contract? That—does sound nice. I really do need to get my GED.

  “That’s tempting…” I sipped my wine and sighed.

  Arlo didn’t stop reeling me in once I was willing to nibble on his offer. It was very hard to say no to him. I still owed him so much—for being so nice to me after thing fell apart with Jake, and for loaning me money that I wasn’t in any position to repay him. He didn’t bring up either of those things when we were negotiating, but they stayed in the back of my mind. By the time our food arrived, I was leaning towards accepting his offer. When he finally told me how much he was willing to pay, I had to stop my jaw from falling open in shock. It was almost double what I made at the diner—which meant I could make good on my promise to pay him back by the time the contract was done.

  “Okay.” I nodded. “You win—I’ll come work for you.”

  “Excellent.” He smiled and reached for his whiskey. “I assume you’ll want to put in your notice at the diner before you quit?”

  “Yeah, definitely.” I took a sip of my wine. “Enzo has been too good to me—I can’t quit without giving him time to find a replacement.”

  “That’s respectable.” He nodded.

  We didn’t drink as much as we did the last time we were out. It definitely felt like a business dinner instead of two old friends catch up. That atmosphere was familiar because he was my boss before I ever started dating Jake. We finished our meal, and I decided to skip dessert, no matter how good it looked because the pasta was a lot more filling than I expected. Arlo said that he would have the contract drawn up so that I could sign it when I started and gave me the address for Hart Consulting, which was where he was working while he was in the city.

  I should probably research the case a little bit when I get home. He said the company has been in the news, but I haven’t really been watching much of that lately.

  “Alright, I’ll see you in two weeks.” Arlo looked over at me after we walked out of the restaurant.

  “I look forward to it.” I gave him a nod and a smile. “Thank you for twisting my arm—it really is a good opportunity.”

  “I need your help a lot more than you need this job, so I’m the one that is grateful.” He chuckled under his breath. “I believe that’s your ride.”

  “What? No, I took the subway…” I shook my head quickly.

  “I know.” He nodded. “That’s why I requested an Uber for you before we got up from the table.”

  “The subway isn’t that bad you know…” I sighed and looked over at the Uber as it came to a stop in front of me. “But thank you—again.”

  “Goodnight, Phoebe.” He waved to me.

  “Goodnight—Arlo.” I smiled and walked to the car.

  I don’t think I’m ever going to be completely comfortable with calling him that.

  Chapter Ten

  Phoebe

  Enzo wasn’t happy when I turned in my notice, but he was grateful that I was willing to keep working for two more weeks so that he could find a replacement. Those two weeks went by in a blur, and my last day was bittersweet. I didn’t know if I would ever put on an apron again, but Enzo told me that I was welcome to return if my new job didn’t work out. I didn’t think that would be the case, but it was nice to have something to fall back on. The only real challenge was making sure that I could stretch my finances until I got my first check from my new job. Enzo cashed out our tips at the end of the week, and Arlo used to pay me monthly—I assumed that would be the same since I was going to be under contract to his firm.

  I need to make sure I go to bed early tonight. I’m not used to getting up at the crack of dawn…

  My brain wasn’t ready to shut down on command, even if I did want to go to bed early. I tossed and turned for a couple of hours before I finally fell asleep. It also wasn’t a very restful sleep—probably because I was still a little nervous about my new job. I was plagued with dreams that I hadn’t had in years—nightmares, really—about Penny Grove High School, Jake, and the stupid game I played at Monica’s slumber party. I woke up a little worse for wear, but I drowned the bad dream with a hot shower and got fueled up on coffee before I left for work. I got to Hart Consulting and was taken to the conference room, where it appeared that Arlo was already hard at work on the case.

  “Good morning!” I waved to him as I walked in.

  “Hey, welcome to work.” He smiled. “There’s coffee and donuts over there if you want some…”

  “Wow, do they do this for you every day?” I poured a cup of coffee and picked up a glazed donut.

  “Nah, sometimes it’s bagels.” He shrugged. “Ready to get started?”

  “I think I have to sign my contract first.” I raised an eyebrow as I sat down.

  “Of course.” He reached for a folder. “Sign your life away—for the next year.”

  I signed my name at the bottom of the contract and officially became his employee for the second time in my life—but it didn’t feel like a step back by any means. I knew a little bit about the case after doing some research, but there was a lot that Arlo had to catch me up on. I had boxes upon boxes of files to go through. The case was in the discovery process, which meant that everything was up for review by both sides. The prosecutor was doing the exact same thing we were doing, and we needed to make sure that we had an answer for anything he could ask Demi Hart during her deposition. I quickly realized it was going to be an arduous task.

  “I really feel like I’m in over my head here…” I stared at the documents in front of me and shook my head. “I don’t understand a lot of this stuff.”

  “That’s actually why I think you’re perfect for this job.” Arlo put down his pen. “You have to remember—when this goes in front of a jury, the prosecutor has to present a case that a normal person with no legal experience can understand. That can be the most challenging part of the case.”

  “Yeah, but I look at this…” I put a piece of paper with a lot of transactions down in front of him, “and these numbers don’t really mean anything to me.”

  “Don’t focus on the numbers.” Arlo shook his head. “Look at the emails that go with each file and the communication that went on between Demi Hart and her clients. The crux of this case is that she was skimming money off the top, which should have gone to the firm.”

  “I did read that when I was researching the case…” I nodded. “Okay, I’ll look at those.”

  Hopefully, I can earn my paycheck

  * * *

  Arlo and I spent a week working almost ten-hour days going through all of the files that he thought was relevant to the case. I felt better about the job he hired me to do once I found a few things that seemed to be beneficial—unfortunately, I also got the impression that Demi Hart was guilty of the crime she was being accused of committing. There were plenty of emails that mentioned favors, personal contributions, and bonuses that were never accounted for. I wasn’t sure how Arlo was going to build a defense for her because I would have been ready to render a guilty verdict if I was on the jury—and I hadn’t even heard any arguments from the prosecutor.

  “Any plans for the weekend?” Arlo looked up at me after we got packed up to leave.

  “Sleeping…” I laughed. “I thought this job would be easier than standing on my feet all day, but it’s mentally draining.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “It definitely can be.”

  “What about you?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively. “Are you heading home for the weekend?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. My cases got reassigned, and I can handle everything else from here, so I’m just going to go sp
end my expense dollars on room service.” He shrugged. “Unless you want to get a drink—we both probably need one.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” I contemplated his offer. “I wouldn’t mind a Patron margarita…”

  What if he wants to go somewhere fancy? I really don’t want to go home and change…

  “You have to eat, too—right? We could grab some dinner.” He must have sensed my hesitation because he immediately made his offer more enticing.

  “Have you ever been to Missouri Six?” I tilted my head inquisitively.

  “No, I don’t think so…” He shook his head quickly.

  “It’s sort of like McIntyre Grill from back home.” I shrugged. “Good food, decent prices, and they don’t water down the drinks.”

  Plus I’ll be fine in a pencil skirt and a blouse instead of going home to change—if anything, I’ll be overdressed.

  “It’s hard to water down a glass of whiskey, but a casual restaurant wouldn’t be bad.” Arlo nodded and started to stand. “I’m starting to get tired of listening to piano music every time I eat anyway.”

  I convinced Arlo to ride the subway with me to the terminal near the restaurant since it wasn’t a far walk from there. I hoped that would convince him that while the New York City subway wasn’t the best way to travel, it was mostly safe, so he could stop sending me home in an Uber every time we hung out. Unfortunately, we had a homeless guy on the subway with us that kept staring at me, so Arlo’s opinion didn’t change at all. We made it to the restaurant, ordered our drinks, and found a table near the bar. The atmosphere was nice, and it was something I could afford when I treated myself—I hoped he would let me start paying for my meals since we were co-workers again.

  “This is exactly what I needed…” I took a generous drink of my margarita and smiled.

  “The whiskey’s good.” He laughed to himself. “But like I said, it’s hard to fuck that up.”