Daughter Dearest

Home > Other > Daughter Dearest > Page 16
Daughter Dearest Page 16

by Nikki Bopp


  Without fighting me, which is pretty amazing in itself, Eva throws her arms around Mia’s waist with a loud “Thank you!”

  “You're welcome, Miss Eva. I'm so glad you came and had dinner with me. Maybe if you hurry up and get your coat, we can try to convince your mommy to take the rest of the cake with you home.” The words have just barely left her mouth before Eva is bounding out of the room with a squeal of excitement.

  “I guess she's not so tired after all,” Mia laughs, pulling me into another hug.

  Quicker than I thought possible, Eva is back in the room, raincoat zipped up in preparation of the rain we can hear outside. A tupperware of cake is handed to me, Eva following it with her eyes like the most prized possession.

  “We’re going to have to do this again sometime,” Mia suggests, her voice full of hope.

  “Maybe you could come and have a sleepover with me!” Eva counters, her face lighting up with excitement at the prospect. She's always wanted to have a sleepover, but since she never went to daycare, she's never had the opportunity to meet other friends. Let alone experience the fun of a sleepover.

  Crouching down, Mia grips Eva’s arms in her hands with a serious expression. “Eva, I don't think a sleepover is a good idea…”

  Already seeing where she's going, I hide my smile behind the tupperware when Eva looks up to me in confusion.

  “I don't think it's a good idea….,” Mia starts again, forcing Eva’s attention back towards here. “I think it's an amazing idea!”

  Eva lets out a squeak of excitement, throwing herself into Mia’s arms. “You tricked me!”

  “I did, I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  “I forgive you,” pulling away, Eva gives her a serious expression. “No, tricking me anymore.”

  “I promise.”

  “Come on, it's getting late.” Opening the door, Mia steps out onto the stoop with us, the three of us looking up at the dark sky above. Bolts of lightning streak across the darkness, making it even more ominous.

  Wyatt steps out of the car parked at the curb, holding the door open for us so we can run directly into the warm and dry interior.

  I'm pretty sure that Eva fell asleep the second we pulled into traffic.

  Chapter 17

  The Date

  “You sure you're okay picking up Eva?” I can’t help worrying even though I know Mia won't let anything happen. Hopefully, it will ease the older she gets, but my gut says that's not likely.

  “Will you stop worrying,” rolling her eyes, Mia huffs out her frustration at my continued questions. “We will be just fine. I'm going to pick her up as soon as I leave, and we will go back to your place to watch movies and eat junk food.”

  “Ugh, I'm sorry. I know, I know.” Shoving the last bite of sandwich in my mouth, I glance around the empty breakroom for the seventh time just to ensure that no one has suddenly snuck in and is listening to our conversation. I haven't told Daniel, Patrick, or Edward about my date with Nicholas tonight. It's, of course, none of their business, but there's a small glimmer of hope that they will charge in and declare their undying love and beg me never to leave their side.

  While the thought is nice, unfortunately, it's not likely to happen.

  “I know what you're thinking about, and you need to stop it right now. With the way that they've treated you the past couple days, they deserve a little bit of torment. It makes them realize how amazing you are.”

  She's right, of course. The next day after Edward blew up at me, all three of them decided to ignore the fact that I existed. The pleasant conversation that I was used to, smiles, and jokes had disappeared overnight. Now, I could barely get them to even look at me before they simply ran away. If there was ever a better reason to go on this date, it's to go on this date simply to shove it in their faces. If they actually knew about it.

  “That would entail them knowing about the date,” the chip being lifted to my mouth pauses halfway when a guilty expression slides over Mia’s face. “What? What did you do?”

  “I didn't do anything per se. I just made sure to whisper a smidge too loud during a meeting with them and the accounting department this morning.”

  My mind simultaneously begins to freak out and pause at her words, both of them tinged with a whole lot of excitement. “What’d they do? Did they say anything?”

  Do they care? Are they jealous? The devil on my shoulder gleefully kicks the angel off my other to do a jig in her place.

  “They didn't say anything,” shrugging her shoulders, Mia forks a heaping bite of her salad into her mouth, Ranch dripping from the limp leaves. “They didn't look happy, though.”

  “Good. It serves them right for being assholes to me, especially Edward.”

  Mia makes a non-committal response, washing her salad down with a swig of lemonade. “By the way, what are you wearing tonight?”

  “I was just gonna wear this,” I lean back so she can see the black button-up tucked into my black slacks. The matching blazer is hanging over my chair only because I'm incapable of not getting my clothes dirty when eating, so at least it will be clean to hide any mess I make on my shirt.

  “Are you going on a date or to a funeral?” Mia asks with a deadpan look, her eyes taking in the black on black outfit. Of course, she can't see the killer red heels I'm wearing that compliment my red necklace and earrings. My hair is down and flowing around my shoulders in a way that will never happen again. My hair never cooperates, so it's a miracle for it to be today.

  “Maybe I am. The death of my celibacy.”

  “Ugh,” Mia waves her hands between us, gagging at the mention of sex with Nicholas, which only makes me burst into a round of laughter. While it's not something I had planned, I'm certainly not going to reject it. According to the quiz I took on Facebook, I need to start meeting new people and experiencing new things. Since sex with Jonathan was a chore at best, I can safely say that good sex with a new person can be considered a new thing.

  A ping on my phone draws my attention to the message displayed on the screen. My hilarity quickly fades as I read over the instructions from Edward.

  “Damnit,” I mutter under my breath, looking at my watch and wincing at the time. Standing, I toss the remains of my lunch in the trash before gathering the rest of my things.

  “What's wrong?” Mia asks, watching me with a confused expression.

  “Edwards sending me on a wild goose chase all over town. If I don't leave now, I won't be back in time for tonight.”

  “Okay, go on. I'll make sure to pick up Eva and let you know if there are any issues.”

  “Thanks,” kissing her cheek, I run out of the breakroom like the hounds of hell are chasing me.

  Four hours of errands later, I'm finally back at the office. The proofs Edward requested are hot off the press, his dry cleaning is hung on the back of his office door, and the financial reports have been combed through multiple times. Of course, it probably wasn't necessary for me to take his dog to the groomer or wash his damn car, but given the tension between us already, I figure it's easier just to do as requested rather than ask questions. It's just as I'm shutting down my computer for the day that Daniel’s door opens, Edward and Patrick, in a heated discussion that I, for once, don't care to listen to.

  The nervousness that's been hanging over me all day has disappeared to be replaced with excitement over the night ahead. It's been nearly a decade since I went on a date. I may have been married, but that didn't mean he cared about me. Let alone took me out on a date. The second I was legally his, Jonathan gave up all pretense of caring. So, the idea of a date is almost more than I can handle.

  Will he open the car door for me? Will he want to hold hands? Kiss? Disgust at my own thoughts forces me to halt them where they are. I'm not an untried teenager going on my first date.

  Checking my watch, I hurry to clear my desk of all the clutter sitting atop. The thing I despise most is disorganization, and if I leave work with it messy, it'll bother me the whol
e weekend.

  “You're awfully excited to get out of here,” Edward notes in a suspicious tone. Patrick and Daniel are standing behind him, both of their eyes focused on me and the smile I can’t help from spreading across my face. Without answering right away, I gather my purse and things together, sliding my sunglasses onto my face with a wink.

  “Of course I am, it's Friday!” Giving them a wave over my shoulder, I skip to the elevator with a sense of triumph. They know where I'm going, they know who I'm going out with, and I can see the annoyance on each of their faces. Shows them for being jerks.

  The ride down the elevator feels like a million years, but that could be because I'm forced to stop at every damn floor to let everyone and their mother on. Glancing at my watch again, I wince at the time. I'm already five minutes late and only halfway down the building. Hopefully, Nicholas isn't a stickler for being on time.

  Nicholas is standing beside the receptionist desk when the elevator finally reaches the ground floor. Pushing more than is probably needed, I nearly melt to a puddle when he flashes me a sparkling smile. “There you are, I thought you got lost.”

  “No, no. Everyone just decided that they should leave at the exact same time.”

  “How dare they!” Nicholas jokes leading the way out of the building. While most of the posse from the elevator is heading towards the pub down the street, a couple of people branch off on their way home, I assume. For the first time in the last couple of days, it's not raining, so I don't mind when we walk a couple of blocks over to what looks like a cute little Italian restaurant. The place only has a couple of customers, so we’re seated quickly at a small table in the corner. Looking around, I take in the red and white decor that is almost too much together with the darkened atmosphere. The table is draped in a scarlet tablecloth, a white candle glowing in the middle with wine glasses waiting at the ready.

  “Thanks for coming tonight,” Nicholas smiles at me, the words sounding truly sincere.

  “Well, after your little ‘gift,’ I thought it was only appropriate,” the words are out before I can stop them, but thankfully he either doesn't notice them, or he doesn't care that I said this was basically a pity date.

  Scoffing at my words, he rolls his eyes dramatically. “That? It wasn't a big deal. You would need it eventually anyway.”

  Confusion swirls through me at his words. Is he saying that I smell bad? How would he know that I would need a new bottle of perfume? I've used it maybe a half dozen times at most.

  “I don't-,” I begin, wanting to know what exactly his words are supposed to mean, but they’re halted by a waitress appearing at our table. Short with curly red hair, she gives us a once over and dismisses us with a haughty sniff.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  Without sparing me a glance, Nicholas orders a bottle of red wine that I've never heard of before, but that could be because I’m not a huge fan of red wine. It tastes like fermented ass to me, but I don't want to cause a fuss over something as simple as wine.

  “I heard you were in a car accident last week,” Nicholas begins pulling me from my thoughts. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yeah, I'm doing fine. It was more of a bump on the head than anything else. What you were saying before-,” once again, my question is cut off by the return of the waitress. Showing the label to Nicholas, she pops the cork after receiving a nod of agreement. In a move I've seen countless times, she pours a splash of wine into his glass, waiting for another nod before pouring us both a glassful. When she leaves without even acknowledging me, I can feel the anger beginning to simmer inside of me.

  What if I didn't like it? What if I wanted a white wine? Why is it Nicholas’ decision what we drink? I'm a goddamn adult, and I want to be seen as one rather than some woman that follows along behind a man without question.

  Calm down, I tell myself with a deep breath. It's just wine.

  Nicholas takes a loud sip from his glass, running the liquid between his teeth in a sound that grates on my nerves like nails to a chalkboard.

  “Aren't you going to try it?” He asks, seeing that I haven't even reached for my glass. “It's a great year.”

  Biting my tongue, I pick up the glass, taking the smallest sip possible and trying not to spit it out when the bitter flavor hits my tongue. I like sweet white wines for a reason. They taste a hell of a lot better than the spoiled grape taste that sits in my mouth. Forcing a smile on my face, I startle when Nicholas reaches forward suddenly to take my hand in his. The move pulls me forward, a jolt of pain shooting into my shoulder at the abrupt action.

  “You're so beautiful. You should wear your hair down more. It looks a lot better.”

  “Uhh thanks…,” I'm not sure what else to say to such a backhanded compliment. “I don't wear it down a lot because it's so much work.”

  “I'm thrilled that you decided to come out tonight. I've been thinking about it all week.” His words are punctuated by his eyes, dropping to the gape in my shirt and the cleavage showing. It's not hard to figure out where his thoughts have been.

  “Me too,” I reply half-heartedly, really wishing that the waitress would come back so we could order our food. Just as I start to look around for the wayward server, Nicholas pulls his hands away to stand up with a lazy smile.

  “I'm going to go to the restroom,” he tells me in a low voice, not moving until I give him a smile of my own. Rather than going to the bathroom, he comes around the table, his body looming over mine. In any other situation, I might be a bit freaked out by his forwardness, but I know he wouldn’t do anything in the restaurant. Even Jonathan knew better than that.

  “You're welcome to join me if you'd like,” Nicholas murmurs, bending over to speak the words directly into my ear. And then he's gone. Weaving through the tables to the back of the building, I watch him go with a growing sense of dread.

  This was a bad idea.

  The Nicholas that I've come to know at work is not here. Instead, a stranger is in his place, wearing the same face and expensive suits. This Nicholas is dangerous.

  My cell phone is in the front pocket of my purse and easily within reach. Shooting off a quick text to Mia, I wait for a response, but it doesn't come.

  She must be picking up Eva right now. Checking my watch, I nod to myself in resignation. I'm going to have to stick this out until she checks her message, or I can slip away without upsetting Nicholas. Unfortunately, Wyatt was driving them both home, so I'll have to either catch a cab or walk home.

  At that very moment, a rumble of thunder rolls overhead.

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself, dropping my cell phone onto the table with a hopeless feeling. Walking in the rain, in the approaching dark, is not my idea of fun. Gripping the wine glass in front of me, I toss back the contents, forcing myself to ignore the horrible taste in favor of the buzz I know I'll get from it. The passive-aggressive comments from the head of HR, and sexual advances are one thing when sober, but drunk, they're nearly unmanageable.

  The bottle of wine glugs noisily when I refill my glass. I don't care how expensive it may be, it's only here for one reason in my book, and perhaps his too given his comments. When the table vibrates with a message, I eagerly grab for my phone, expecting to see a response to my S.O.S. text to Mia, but there's nothing.

  Another buzz against the top of the table draws my attention to the cell phone sitting on the other side of the table. Now I'm not one for snooping, but seeing the name on the message blows that out of the water.

  Making sure that Nicholas isn't coming back yet, I reach for the phone, holding it gingerly as though it’s about to break. Clicking on the message from ‘Sierra,’ relief runs through me when the phone unlocks without a password. The relief shifts to horror and disgust the moment my eyes settle on the picture of Mia’s wife dressed in nothing but a bra and panties. The message attached to the image sends my heart racing, and not in a good way. ‘Come over, and I'll give you a repeat of this morning.’

  Shock
holds me immobile, the phone balanced precariously on the tips of my fingers. Sierra is cheating on Mia, and with the HR director. This is so beyond worse than what I would have expected. At most, I could see her having a fling with someone and never seeing them again, but it’s evident by the message that this isn't some fling. They were together this morning, and obviously not as friends. This would also explain her ‘visiting’ Mia at work. She very well wouldn't be able to enter PRI and not see her wife without her finding out.

  Movement out of the corner of my eyes makes my heart jump at being caught. They should be caught, they should be destroyed for what they've been doing to my best friend, but for some reason, I'm terrified of being caught looking through Nicholas’ phone. Quickly replacing it where it was before, I take a large swallow of my wine, screwing my face up in disgust at the flavor.

  “Sorry I took so long…,” Nicholas sighs, dropping into his seat, an unmistakable look of disappointment on his face. We both look down at his phone when it buzzes, another message from Sierra I'm sure, but rather than look at it, he slides the device off the table and into his pocket. “What were we talking about?”

  “We weren't,” the words come out sharp and loud, drawing the attention of the waitress who is cleaning a table a few rows away from us.

  “Okay...Are you alright?” Brow scrunched in confusion, Nicholas leans forward to speak to me over the table, his voice low enough that the other patrons can't hear.

  Am I alright? Would anyone be alright learning that their best friend’s wife of ten years has been cheating on her? With the guy that you're currently on a date with? It may be a disastrous date, but it doesn't take away from the wrongness of it all. The more that I think about it, the more pissed I become until my chest feels like it's about to burst with the fury roiling within me.

  Taking another gulp of my wine, I slam the glass down onto the table hard enough for the liquid to slosh onto the tablecloth. It's a good thing they're red, I think to myself as the words spill from my mouth before I can stop them.

 

‹ Prev