by Parker, Ali
“What? That makes no sense.”
“He loved and lost, and it cut him deep. There could be a chance he doesn’t want you to experience that same kind of pain.”
“Plausible, but not likely.”
“Fine, then back to the original question. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. He won’t talk to me. I’ve been calling him all week, and once again, he’s dodging my calls. He’s being very childish about all of this. It’s really pissing me off.”
“He’s probably been busy writing his speech,” she said nonchalantly.
“Speech? For me? I don’t need another speech from him. I’m good. He said plenty.”
She burst into laughter, tossing a few bangles into the basket hanging from her arm. “Not for you. His acceptance speech.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The achievement award he’s getting from the school,” she answered.
She might as well have slapped me. “I didn’t know he was getting an award.”
“I saw it in the newspaper, way in the back, but I saw the name and read the article.”
I shook my head with frustration. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me!”
“I’m sorry. I assumed you knew.”
“I should have known. I’m his daughter and he didn’t have the decency to tell me! Rude. So fucking rude and childish.”
She looked around. “Shh. Come on. Let’s buy this stuff and go get some dinner.”
“I can’t believe him!” I exclaimed again.
She practically dragged me to the checkout. We paid for our things and quickly left the store. I was still pissed. Instead of wasting time and driving somewhere, we opted to go to the Olive Garden in the same shopping center.
“You need a drink,” she ordered. “How about something fruity?”
“I can’t drink. If I drink, I’m only going to get madder.”
“I’m sorry I told you,” she said.
“Don’t be. I blame him. I’m so pissed at him.”
We were seated at a quiet table.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she said. “Like work. How is it going? Any more gigs you need me to cover?”
“No.”
“Any juicy details on some celebrities that are going to be getting married soon? You always get the earliest scoop.”
“No.”
She stuck her fingers in her water glass and flicked them at me.
“Hey!” I protested.
“Snap out of it. I get a couple hours with you. I am not going to put up with a sourpuss. Let’s talk about Xander again. And his hot brother.”
“How can I talk about Xander when my father has essentially disowned me?”
“Because talking about Xander is a lot more fun.”
“Do you really think my dad intends on leaving me out of his life forever?”
She shrugged. “I can’t answer that. I think you need to make him tell you.”
“This is ridiculous. He’s not talking to me because he doesn’t like the man I’m dating. It isn’t like Xander is a serial killer. He’s done nothing wrong except be successful! For twenty-five years, it has just been me and him. He might have taken care of me for the first ten years, but I have been taking care of him since. I have bent over backward to make sure he has food and clean clothes. This is how he thanks me?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, keeping her voice low. “It’s not cool.”
“No, it isn’t cool. He is acting like a child. He’s acting like I committed some horrible sin against him. I didn’t do shit!”
Her eyes darted around the dining room. “Relax. Let’s eat and then you can figure out what to do next. You don’t want to try and come up with a plan when you’re angry. It is not going to end well.”
I leaned my head back and looked up at the ceiling. I took in several deep breaths, calming my nerves. “You’re right. I need to cool down. If I talk to him now, I’ll only say something that will definitely lead to the ending of our relationship.”
“This is what I’ve been saying,” she said.
I ordered my usual ravioli. I ended up pushing it around on my plate. I had no appetite. I was angry and hurt. My father should not be the one making me feel so miserable. He was supposed to be looking out for me and he was ripping my heart out. I made it through dinner with Nelle taking pity on me and releasing me from my friend duties.
I got home and kicked off my shoes, ready to drink a bottle of wine and block out all the feelings that were bombarding me. I felt abandoned by my father. It was a little dramatic, but it was how I felt. I blamed my lack of experience with the situation. My dad and I had always been so close. We rarely fought. I was certain it was why it was hitting me so hard now.
I didn’t know how to handle the feelings. I couldn’t ignore the situation. I couldn’t wait until I calmed down. I snatched my phone and pushed the button for his number. I waited, listening to it ring and ring. When his voicemail came on, I hung up and redialed.
“Call me back,” I snapped when his voicemail picked up again.
I tossed my phone on the couch. He didn’t get awards so often that this was not a big deal. It was a big deal. I should have been his first call. This was him punishing me. He was purposely trying to hurt me, and it was working.
Chapter 37
Xander
Charlie thought I was crazy. I probably was. He told me to come up with a way to save his ships’ rudders and I had.
Well, I hoped. Maybe I did. I wasn’t sure. I was still working out the details. Right now, it was all an image in my head. I wasn’t sure how or if it was even possible to make it work out in real life.
Then again, the ship designs were once nothing more than pipe dreams. I’d made that a reality. I was sure there was a way to make the rudders stronger and more effective.
Charlie didn’t say it, but I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking what Marsh had thought. What my dad thought. I was crazy.
He thought I was getting ahead of myself. People had been building ships for hundreds of years, and here I was, young and dumb, thinking I could change what had always been done.
I got in the car, checked the time, and figured I would see if Evie was free. I doubted it, given it was a Friday night, but I was going to try anyway. There was an elderly woman selling pretty flowers on the street corner. I bought a bouquet and parked my car before heading inside the building where Evie worked.
I hoped I wasn’t being too forward.
“Hello,” I greeted the young woman wearing a headset and sitting behind a desk.
“Hi,” she said, her posture changing as a bright smile spread over her face.
“I am looking for Evie Marsh. Is she in?”
“She is. Should I have her come here?”
“Can I go to her office?”
She grinned. “Absolutely. I’ll show you the way.”
“Thank you.”
The woman knocked on a door before pushing it open. Evie was sitting at her desk that was very organized and tidy. Her eyes lit up. “Hi!” she said and jumped to her feet.
“Hi,” I said before turning to look at the pretty receptionist. She smiled and quickly excused herself.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with surprise.
I handed her the flowers. “I thought I would surprise you.”
“These are beautiful. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Do you have anything going on tonight?”
“Nope.”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
She nodded. “I would.”
“My turn to pick the place.”
“That works for me. You know, it’s very good timing you showed up today.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because my car is in the shop. I was going to have to take a taxi home.”
I grinned and stepped closer. “Does that mean you need a ride?” We both kn
ew what I was asking. A little sexual innuendo became part of our normal conversation.
“I do,” she whispered.
“I will be your chariot.”
“Let me get my purse.”
I took a second to look around her office that was sparsely decorated and very neat. A couple of minutes later, she was ready to go. Once in the car, I drove her to the grocery store. She made no move to get out of the car. She looked at me with confusion on her face. “Uh, what are we doing here?”
“Grocery shopping.”
She slowly nodded. “Okay.”
“Let’s go.”
I grabbed a cart and began pushing it up and down the aisles, picking the ingredients I needed to make her dinner.
“I think I’m confused,” she said.
“I’m making you dinner,” I told her.
“You’re going to cook me dinner?”
“Yes. I want you all to myself tonight. I don’t want to be in a public setting. I want to leer at you and be completely inappropriate with you while enjoying a nice meal. I can’t do that at a fancy restaurant, at least not without embarrassing both of us.”
She laughed softly. “You make a good point.”
With our groceries bought, I drove us to my place. I was hoping the night went well and I could convince her to sleep over again.
“Sit,” I ordered once we deposited the bags on the kitchen counter.
“I can help,” she offered.
“Nope. I’m making you dinner. I’ll pour you a glass of wine while you watch me cook.”
“You are going to spoil me.”
“I want to spoil you.”
“I think I like the sound of that. Spoil away.”
She sat on one of the barstools while I poured us two glasses of wine. “How was your week?”
“Short,” she said with a smile. “Taking Monday off made for a nice short week.”
“I agree.”
“What about you? Last I talked to you, you were working on some big idea.”
I liked that she was interested in my work. “I’m still working on it.”
“Do you want to share?”
I spread some olive oil in a pan. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sound crazy. This idea is very reminiscent of what happened to me in college.”
“How so?”
I turned to face her. I felt like I could trust her. She wasn’t going to laugh me out of my own kitchen. “When I had a wild idea in college, another Marsh was very unreceptive.”
She winced. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. It’s an old beef and I shouldn’t hold it against you.”
“Speaking of Daddy Dearest,” she started, and I flinched. This was the part where she told me we couldn’t see each other anymore.
“I can’t wait to hear this,” I said with a sigh.
“He’s being honored by his school. I guess he’s receiving some big achievement award.”
I nodded and went back to cooking the chicken. “That’s cool,” I said without any emotion. I wasn’t going to say he deserved it. I didn’t think he did. I didn’t think he was a good professor. If anything, he was squashing more dreams than he was helping come to life.
She laughed and I turned to look at her over my shoulder. “I’m sorry. You don’t care about that. Tell me your idea.”
“It isn’t that I don’t care,” I said, trying to think of a way to soothe things.
“It’s fine,” she said. “He wasn’t nice to you.”
“It isn’t that he wasn’t nice. It was more about me being young and looking for a little reassuring. I don’t blame your dad for laughing at me. I was laughed at a lot back then. He was one of many.”
“He didn’t tell me about the award,” she said, and I could hear the hurt in her voice.
“You two still haven’t made up?”
“No. He won’t talk to me. I found out about the award through my friend who saw it in the paper. I called him and he let it go to voicemail.”
I reached for her hand. “I am really sorry he’s this upset with you about me. If you want us to stop seeing each other or being friends, I will totally understand. I don’t expect you to ruin your relationship with your father for me.”
“No,” she adamantly said. “He is not going to get to ruin this, whatever this is.”
“This is us having a good time,” I said, not sure what else to say about the situation.
“Right. Exactly. It’s nothing for him to get his panties in a bunch about.”
“Are you going to go?” I asked her.
“No! Why would I? He didn’t even tell me about it.”
“Evie,” I admonished. “You will regret not going. This thing that’s happening between you two is only temporary.”
“I’m not so sure about that anymore. We have never not talked to each other. This is serious.”
I turned around once again to look her directly in the eye. “If I am getting in the way, please tell me.”
She stared right back at me. “It isn’t you. This is him.”
“Okay.” I went back to my cooking. “For what it’s worth, I do respect your dad as a person. What he did raising you is pretty impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious. He might be a dick to me, but you said he was great with you. I respect that. I respect a man that can raise a kid all on his own.”
“Part of me wonders if he’s embarrassed. His behavior was pretty atrocious. He doesn’t know how to walk it back and is choosing to ignore the situation.”
“That sounds very plausible,” I agreed. “He’s a proud man. He would never want to admit he was in the wrong, especially when it came to me.”
“Very true.”
“You should go,” I told her again. “I think you will regret it if you don’t. This thing between you guys isn’t permanent. Once you guys have made up, you don’t want to regret missing such a special moment in his life.”
She was quiet. Too quiet. I looked over my shoulder to make sure she was still there. “Want to come along with me?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure that would go over as well as a lead balloon.”
“What exactly are you doing over there?” she asked.
“I’m cooking our dinner.”
I heard her feet hit the floor. I glanced behind me to see what she was doing. She was coming toward me. Her wine glass was in her hand. “Are we here alone?” she asked.
“Of course, we are.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked as she walked toward me.
I nodded. “I definitely am.”
She trailed a finger over my bicep and then traced my collarbone. “I’m so hungry,” she whispered.
“I’m cooking as fast as I can.”
She slowly shook her head. “I don’t think you are. I’m ravenous.”
Her words were spoken with such heat and desire, I knew she wasn’t talking about my fried chicken breasts. I reached for the knob on the stove and turned off the heat. “I’m rather ravenous myself.”
She put her wine glass on the kitchen counter before her fingers went to the buttons on my shirt. I braced my shoulders, preparing for the usual tug that accompanied her undressing me. There was no rip. I looked down and watched as she slowly undid one button after another.
“Evie,” I growled her name.
“Shh, I’m starving but I think I want to savor my meal.”
I dropped my hands to my sides and let her have her way. The shirt was pushed open and then down my shoulders. The white tee I was wearing was slowly lifted up my torso. I lifted my arms, and when she reached as high as she could go, I took over and pulled it off, dropping the shirt onto the floor.
She licked her lips. “You are so right. This private dinner is so much better than a fancy restaurant.”
I smirked. “I agree.”
I reached for the buttons on her blouse and gave her the same slow, purposeful treatment until her
blouse was in a heap with my own. She was wearing a pretty blue-satin bra. It cupped her breasts, lifting the milky globes high while squeezing them together. The cleavage was delectable.
“Pants,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper.
I lifted my arms, ready for her to do the honors. She eagerly obliged. The pants were pushed down until they fell around my ankles. I kicked off my shoes and kicked the pants to the side. Her own slacks soon joined mine. A simple blue thong that was the same satin as the bra greeted me. The woman was beautiful. Every inch of her smooth skin begged to be touched and kissed.
The kitchen was all wrong. While I would have loved to lay her out on my kitchen counter and feast upon her, I was looking for something a little more traditional. I wanted her in my bed. I wanted to ride her and watch her hair fan out around her as I pushed myself inside her over and over.
“I’m thinking we could have our meal upstairs.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I think I would like that. My knees are still recovering from the floor.”
I grabbed her hand and led her upstairs to my bedroom. There was something to be said for being totally boring. A bed had its benefits. I was about to take advantage of each and every one of them.
Chapter 38
Evie
He was standing next to the bed, looking down at me like I was on the menu. My skin felt flushed under his gaze. I could practically feel his hands on me. I closed my eyes as a wave of passion washed over me, making me squirm on his bed.
“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” he asked in a gruff voice.
I moaned, my lips parting as I reached up to cup my breast through my bra. “I am. I need you.”
His eyes focused on my hand. I gave him a show, squeezing and plumping my breast. I brought my other hand up to help.
“God damn, Evie. Do you know how sexy you are?”
“I want you inside me,” I told him with raw honesty.
“Not yet. You look too good.”
He dropped to his knees and pulled me to the edge of the bed. My legs hung over, my feet dangling over the floor. He reached for my panties and started to pull them down my body.
