“Can’t you teach your pet some manners, Haylee?”
She lifts a shoulder. “He’s named after you.”
“Yeah, about that. Can you please explain to me why you thought it would be a good idea to name a pig after me? I’m not sure whether to be insulted or proud.”
A pretty pink color spreads over her cheeks. “It was a weak moment.”
I watch my daughter making her Wonder Woman setup look like it came out of a cable re-run. Easing the fear that threatens to cripple my heart whenever I’m near her is going to prove much harder. I want her to love me so badly, it hurts. More than that, I want her to admire me and be proud of me as her daddy.
She bends over to kiss Gerald on his fuzzy head.
“You wanna know something?” I ask, gazing up at her with questioning eyes.
“Sure.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but laugh. “I actually find Gerald’s name amusing now that we’re speaking again. Before, well, let’s just say I didn’t take it well after finding out about my namesake.”
“Atlee told me about the Ford she met on the playground at the clinic. She said you just might make it as a superhero. After a few more reps.”
“Are you complaining about the state of my six-pack, woman. Seems you’ve never had a problem with it in the past.”
Shit. Why did I go and ruin a perfectly pleasant and flirty conversation by saying the dirty word that’s gotten us all into so much trouble? Past. We need to be focused on moving forward and worrying about what we can control – the present. Haylee’s face creases into a little frown, and I fear I’ve blown it until she speaks again.
“Never. I’ve always been one to enjoy more of a dad bod anyway.”
I reach over and tickle her at her waist where I know it’s going to drive her wild. After a peal of giggles ring out, I stop.
“Ford, stop tickling Mommy. Don’t you know any better than that?”
I raise one eyebrow at Haylee. “Hmm...I wonder where she picked up that particular phrase.”
Haylee shrugs, looking at me innocently. “Could be anyone.”
“Negative. I think I can remember hearing that one a time or two myself.”
She grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. It feels like a connection that can never be severed. I feel like coming home to my future.
“Your mom must have been really frustrated, then. Were you a naughty little boy, Ford?”
I lean over so I can whisper in her ear. I watch as the tiny hairs rise on her neck. Unable to stop myself, I give a little blow to her throbbing pulse. “Just wait until later. I’ll show you how naughty I’m capable of being.”
In the few seconds it’s taken to finish my conversation with Haylee, Atlee’s rigged a kitchen chair into her invisible jet, complete with rope, wings, and a cardboard nose. Gold bracelets dangle from her wrists, and she’s got the gold crown resting atop her curls. After a few more snorts, I locate Gerald, who’s now wearing a star-spangled tulle tutu, foraging for dropped candy underneath an end table.
“Ford, come sit in the airplane and fly with me,” she says, pointing toward the chair. I wonder if it’s going to crumble underneath my considerable bulk. It looks pretty rickety, and the formerly green seat has yellowed.
“Coming,” I say, already feeling the need to indulge her every desire. I’ve got years of making it up to her, and I can’t wait to get to know her better.
Just as I sit down, Atlee executes a perfect twirl and rolls her eyes to the heavens as if she can’t believe what she’s just seen.
“Seriously, Gerald. Pull down your tutu. Why, you can see clear to Christmas!”
Haylee and I lock eyes. “That’s one hundred percent Dixie!”
Chapter 23
Haylee
“We really miss you, Haylee.”
I look at the woman who’s been so good to me, ashamed that I’ve let her down so many times. I’m surprised she’s still speaking to me.
“Hey, Taryn. I miss you too.”
Taryn glances around the café, taking it in. I doubt she’s ever been in here. She graduated with honors from UNLV and took a start-up to stratospheric success faster than seasoned business people. I admire her. More than that, I like her, even if she is more of a sophisticated champagne and caviar kind of a gal.
“You know, Haylee,” she says, slipping down into the chair opposite mine. “The Strict Necessaire app is doing really well.”
My shift just ended, and I’m tipping out my bartender and my busboy before I go home with whatever’s left, hoping against hope I’ll be able to pay the rent this month without asking Ford for money. Everything’s still too new between us. I’ve assured everyone around me for so long that I’m Miss Independence that I can’t ask for a handout now and still save face.
I smile at her. “That’s great news! It’s such a wonderful thing that Ford created for your store. Especially for those ladies who can’t try things on in person for whatever reason.”
“Yeah, it’s been a godsend for my designer items,” she says, reaching across the table to take my hand in hers. I want to snatch mine away because it’s rough and work-hewn. Taryn’s is polished perfection. Soft, smooth with a dark red gel manicure.
“It is wonderful,” she says, looking at me as if she can see all of the hidden spots within my soul that I keep from everyone, even other women. “But I need you, Haylee. You represent the body type that I deal with most often. I know it’s hard to believe, but most women aren’t a sample size, even here in Vegas. I’ve had multiple requests for more photos of you. They’re asking for you by name. Please come back, so you don’t have to work…here.”
I have a hard time believing that rich women are asking for me. Comparing themselves to me. I haven’t been the same since Atlee’s birth. My hips got wider, my breasts fuller. Running around after her keeps me pretty fit, but we can’t afford organic produce, so I tend to eat the same grilled cheese, PB & J, and mini corndogs Atlee does. I could probably stand to lose about fifteen pounds. But here’s this stunning woman sitting in front of me and saying that I’m in demand just the way I am, single mom and all.
It feels good. It feels great even.
“I’m in.”
She leans back in seeming surprise, her eyes widening. “You are?”
“Yes. I need to start setting a better example for Atlee. Going after my dreams and all that. But you have to make sure that I’m pulling my weight. After the modeling is done, I can help you with your marketing plan. I went to college for that, you know.” I look down at my shoes. “I’m confident I could be an asset to your business team for the store.”
“I’m so happy, Haylee!” Taryn exclaims, clapping her hands together. “I could use the help, and I could use another strong woman on my team. One who doesn’t take any shit from anyone. Not even Nixon.”
I don’t tell her that like everyone else, Nixon scares the shit out of me. With his brooding looks and his cool aloofness, he could turn a person to stone with just a stare. I’ve heard that Marcella’s softened him, but I haven’t spent enough time around him lately to gauge if that’s true. Now, with Ford knowing about Atlee, I suppose we’ll both eventually be drawn into the family fold. Which means that Marcella and Taryn will be kind of like sisters to me.
I always wanted a sister.
She stands, and I follow so I can sweep her into a hug, welcoming the safety and encouragement of her embrace. She gives a flirty wave and then she’s gone down the Promenade and back to Strict Necessaire after telling me the logistics of my next shoot. Maybe Ford will want to spend some one on one time with Atlee while I’m modeling for Taryn.
With a spring in my step, I hand my busboy his share and scan the room in search of Dixie.
“There you are, Haylee-berry pie,” she gushes. “I’ve been lookin’ all over for you. I have some exciting news!”
“Me too,” I answer. We both take a seat at our usual table, out of the sight of the diners and she loo
ks at me. “You first.”
I feel like I’ve been taking up all of her time lately with the Ford drama. Dixie’s a spectacular home cook, and she’s been taking culinary classes at the local community college twice a week. I’ve even sampled her chicken and dumplings, which are fantastic.
“Do you remember a few months back when I told you they were gonna hold a contest at the school to be a chef’s assistant for a week?”
I nod, remembering how excited she had been. “I sure do.”
My ears had perked up because Ford’s brother, Carter, had offered to be one of the celebrity chefs to take on a quasi-intern during the prize period so multiple students could win the mentoring of a world-class chef. I wonder if Dixie’s going to be cooking at the steakhouse right here.
“Well, I got selected to assist that incredible chef over at Sakana, Pepper St. Clair! Isn’t that the bee’s knees? I don’t have much experience with anything that swims other than ugly ole catfish, but I’m a very eager student.”
I don’t have the heart to burst her bubble and tell her about Dante, especially considering how hard she’s worked for this opportunity. This is her dream, and she needs to live it with no holds barred. Besides, she’s got an asshole radar better than anyone I’ve ever seen. Nothing gets by Dixie. If that dickhead even speaks to her, she’ll give him the old what for. Hurricane Dixie Pendergrass might be the only thing that could sweep Dante Giovanetti off his loafer-clad feet, catch him off balance and dump him on his ass.
I pop up and run around so I can wrap my arms around her. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in years,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. “I can’t wait to hear more about it. I met Pepper a few months back, and she’s so nice. And talented. And beautiful. I think you two are going to get along famously.”
“Well, I sure do hope so,” Dixie says, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her usually confident voice. “I’m a hair worried she’s a little too citified for me.”
“She’s very warm and passionate about her restaurant,” I counter. “And that’s good. Right?”
“I just wonder if she’ll scoff at a middle-aged waitress who doesn’t have a pot to piss in,” she says, taking both my hands in hers and tugging me down even further. “No experience outside of her own kitchen.”
She plants a kiss on my cheek, and I revel in the warmth of our friendship. If it wasn’t for Dixie, I don’t know how I would have made it all these years without Ford.
“She won’t,” I promise. “I can almost guarantee it. She’s just not that kind of a woman. And this competition was for amateurs and home cooks.” I can tell by my one interaction with her and the way she understood Dante’s machinations that she’s not going to sell Dixie down out down a river of Hollandaise sauce without a spatula.
“I’m really excited to meet her and learn how to make her famous horse dish.”
I smile and nod, moving back to my chair. “I had it one night. It’s scrumptious as well as a visual masterpiece.”
Dixie fans her pinkened cheeks with a napkin. “So, you said you had some news, too?”
“Yeah, you’re not going to believe it. Taryn just left, and she said her customers have been asking for more photos of me in the Strict Necessaire app. She practically begged me to come back and model again. After that’s done, I can help her with her marketing efforts. Oh, Dixie! I’m so excited. I feel like I have a chance at a new life. Atlee’s got a chance to have a relationship with her father and everything’s working out just the way it always should have in the beginning.”
“You deserve it, darlin’. No one works harder than you or makes more sacrifices. Now, all that’s left is to enjoy every moment. Step right into the life you were meant to have.”
I sigh and fiddle with the paper on the straw in front of me. I haven’t even taken a sip of my coffee. “I still worry about Ford’s money and power. What if I do something wrong, he gets pissed, and he starts trying to hold my daughter over my head or use her as leverage in our relationship? You should have seen him at his office that day, Dixie. He scared me with his intensity. I’ve never seen Ford like that before.”
Dixie clucks her tongue and shakes her auburn curls. “Haylee, it’s an extenuating circumstance, don’t you think? You didn’t tell him he had a daughter for over seven years. He had a right to be as angry as an old wet hen.”
“I guess so,” I say, hedging. But I still have that tiny sliver of doubt deep within my soul that says that if I make one wrong move, Ford will take Atlee from me and use his money and power to keep me away from her. I couldn’t survive even one day without her.
“There’s only one thing left to do in that case,” she says, eyes twinkling. “You’re going to have to get married.”
I gape at her, my mouth sagging open in surprise. “Get married? Are you kidding me? We haven’t even officially gotten back together.”
She laughs and slams a palm down on the table so hard the silverware shifts position and clang together. “That’s a new brand of crazy, girlfriend. You’re off like a herd of turtles.”
I blink at her, trying to process her lovable weirdness. “What?”
“Slow as molasses in January, so slow you’ll only cross the finish line in a pine box, so slow you came in third in a two-man race–”
I throw up my hands in mock affront just so she’ll stop. “Enough! I get the picture. You think I’m moving too slow. But you don’t understand, there’s so much water under the bridge that we have to wade through. We can’t just pick up where we left off.”
She chuckles and winks. “Who says that? Stop watching that damn Dr. Phil. He’s a bald-headed know-it-all with chicklets in his mouth where his teeth should be. This is the real world, not daytime television! If there’s rough waters to wade through, just take your damn shoes off and get your feet wet.”
Chapter 24
Ford
“Damn it!”
“Should I come in or is there a chance I’ll get a stapler thrown at my head?”
Reagan’s question brings me back from the challenge I’m having with my app for Asperser’s kids. I’m modeling it after the one I did for cerebral palsy, but the disorders are so different, I’m running into multiple snafus. I want to be able to present it to Haylee and ask her and Atlee to move in with me, but it doesn’t seem like my plan’s going to come together how I imagined it in my family fantasy.
“Nah,” I say, beckoning him forward with my hand. “It’s just this new app driving me crazy. I’ll get it. It’s just going to take a few more hours to iron out these bugs I’m finding.”
“What’s it for?” he asks, sitting down across from me and peering at the code I’m re-writing. “Looks like a foreign language to me.”
“Technically, it is. Kind of like your legal jargon is to most thinking people. Marcella was instrumental in designing the last one. Maybe I should call Atlee’s therapist and pick his brain. I’m trying to design the main menu, and a few of the tabs are no brainers but others I’m not sure about.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It is complicated.”
My brother grins. “More painful than writing a brief that outlines Dante’s transgressions in a legal sense? Do you know how many Nevada state statues that dude’s violated over the past year?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.
I chuckle. “Maybe you win.”
“I really don’t care about the winning part. Only if everyone has a laugh along the journey. I’m doing open mic night at the comedy club Friday. You and Haylee should come. I promise not to heckle you…more than three times.”
“Heckle me?”
“Every comedian has a set of jokes about their family. It’s a rite of passage. Besides, I’m loaded for bear with material. I’ve got one brother who uses a stick to walk, another with one firmly up his own ass, another which uses one to make Shish Kabobs, I’m using mine to poke a sleeping dragon…and there’s you.”
I roll my eyes and wait for the punchline. “What
about mine?”
“What?” he asks, all innocence and sparkling eyes. “There are only four sticks. Yours fell into the wood chipper like in Fargo.”
I start whining like a toddler missing nap time. “I want my own stick!”
“Hey, Ford,” Reagan says, standing and stretching his lean body toward the ceiling. “You might be a redneck if you take your dog out for a walk and you both piss on the same stick. Then you pick it up in your mouth and take it home as a souvenir.”
“Okay, maybe I could do without that particular stick,” I say, chuckling. Reagan always has a way of lightening even my blackest mood. I’ve missed him. Hell, I’ve missed everybody, even Nixon. I’m so glad I’m back here in Vegas starting my second chance.
Reagan looks back over his shoulder one time. “Why did the cat hiss at your stick?”
I can’t believe I’m falling for it. “Why?”
“Because its bark was worse than its bite.”
I shut my eyes against the stupidity of it but can’t stop a random laugh from escaping which just makes him puff out his chest like he’s morphed into a refugee from Eddie Murphy’s Delirious video. I half expect him to produce a dead bird from the inner pocket of his suit and say he’s gonna put it on me.
“Hey, Haylee. How’s life?”
They pass in the hallway, and I hear a bit of small talk going on before she enters my office and takes all the pain and frustration away with one smile and a cloud of that lemony scent that belongs only to her. It’s going to linger all afternoon, which means I’m going to have a hard-on until I can get out of here for the day.
“Hi,” she says, her voice breathy and raspy. It sounds like she’s been thinking about naughty things, and I hope they’re fantasies starring me.
“Hi, yourself. To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit?”
Kickback (Caldwell Brothers Book 3) Page 15
