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The Daddy Box Set

Page 44

by Claire Adams


  “What about Grandpa?” she asked.

  “He’s still gone,” I said.

  My father had gotten married to a really nice woman, Lisa, after being widowed for nine years. My mom was a great lady, and she passed away after years of battling breast cancer. We were all happy to see my father happy when Linda came into the picture. After they got married, they went on their honeymoon, a cruise tour of the world, something that would take three or four months at a minimum.

  Suffice it to say, they would be very little help in this situation, but I had to figure something out. I couldn’t pass this contract up. It was moments like these that I really hated Kayla’s mother. She ruined everything. We had a really good system going, something we had worked hard to achieve. She took care of Kayla, I ran the business, was off most weekends, and then we would do family stuff together. It was what she wanted, to be a stay-at-home mom and wife. I never pushed it on her.

  When she left, she made a scene, telling me it was my fault for stifling her and keeping her locked away in the house. I never told her what to do. She always made her own decisions. If she wanted to work, she worked. If she wanted to take a class, she took a class. In reality, it was just an excuse to make her feel better for sleeping with, and then running away with, Dale.

  “I could always go with you to work,” Kayla said.

  “And do what? Rake some leaves? No, I can’t have my 7-year-old daughter hanging out at a landscaping site.” I shook my head. “It’s illegal to have you work on my crew anyway. Otherwise, I might fill my crew with you and all your friends to keep you busy.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said, laughing. “And get dirty and blistered hands like you? I think I’ll stay with my second-grade math problems.”

  “Probably a good choice,” I said, chuckling.

  I looked down at my watch, realizing that it was almost time for Kayla to catch the bus. She had missed it three times the week before, and I didn’t have the energy to deal with the endless line of cars dropping kids off at her school. I grabbed her backpack and walked over, handing it to her.

  “Come on,” I said, putting my hand out. “The bus will be here any minute.”

  She pouted and put her backpack on, hopping down from the stool and putting her bowl in the sink. We walked out of the front door and down the driveway, where the bus would pick her up. I looked down and waved at the women standing at the ends of their driveways, trying to be friendly. Apparently, our family was the talk of the town since Christina left, and it had made it even tougher to keep Kayla from finding out the truth. These women had nothing better to do with their time than gossip and make up stories about other people’s lives. Now that I was a single dad, I was starting to loathe living in suburban America. It used to be great. We were your typical family with a big house, one kid, hopes for another one day, and considering a dog for our fenced-in yard. These days, it was more like keeping the one child I had alive, cutting the grass so I could see the fenced-in yard, and trying to remember to take the trash out on time.

  I waved and smiled at Kayla as she climbed on the bus, her legs stretching to get up the stairs, reminding me just how little she still was. Sometimes, I forgot that she was still a kid, caught up in the drama of an adult world. Damn her mother for doing this to her, for abandoning both of us because she wanted to have some fun. To make it even worse, it completely blindsided me. She hid it so well that I didn’t see it coming at all.

  I wondered if good old Dale knew she and I were still having sex up to the day before she left us. I wanted to knock his teeth down his throat for being half the problem and not the solution. He couldn’t just be content with what he had. He had to take what I had, too. He had always been that way, though: jealous when I hit the jackpot. I could tell it bothered him that Christina and I were happy, even from the moment I married her.

  I walked back inside and sat down back at the breakfast bar, going over my notes and trying to get Christina out of my mind. I needed to focus so that I could find a babysitter for Kayla, someone I could trust, maybe someone in the family. As I thought about family, a lightbulb went off in my head. I had a sister now. Well, stepsister. Two, actually. Although the older one, Bella, wasn’t really my first choice as a babysitter. I hadn’t spent more than two seconds with her, but I could tell she was a free spirit in more ways than one. Alissa, however, had told me at the wedding that we were brother and sister now, and if I ever needed anything, I could call her. This would be one of those times when I needed her.

  I flipped through my phone and stared down at her phone number, thinking about how strange it would be if I called her out of nowhere. My father and her mother had gotten married months ago, and this would be the first time I called for anything, including a “hello, how are you” type of conversation. I almost felt guilty for pushing everyone out of my life when things went down with Christina. Now, I was left with my tail between my legs, trying to decide whether to call these people or not. I put the phone down and started making the list of workers I was going to call in on the unscheduled rush job. I wanted the best ones for the money, and I would be paying them overtime on the weekend, so they needed to be efficient.

  Once my list was done, I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself the last bit in there. I mixed in sugar and light cream and sat back down at my spot. I needed to start getting these guys ready to go since I was examining the space today and would like them to start first thing in the morning in order to get it done on time. I grabbed my phone to call the first guy and remembered that I still needed to find a babysitter for Kayla. I sighed, looking down at Alissa’s number, still apprehensive about calling her. If I had stayed in touch, I could have avoided all of this with a simple text, but that wasn’t going to work. I took a deep breath and pressed Send, pulling the phone to my ear.

  I was nervous, but not because I hadn’t kept in contact, or because I had to ask for a favor, but for other, way more complicated issues in my head. The fact of the matter was, Alissa was gorgeous, and every time I was around her, I could feel a lump in my throat and a heat in my stomach. I had promised myself that I would stay away from her, for my own good, and for hers.

  Chapter Two

  Alissa

  Call me weird, but the sight and smell of a freshly renovated, completely blank house was extremely invigorating to me. While others would look at it with anxiety and worry, I found that being an interior decorator brought a clarity to my mind when I looked at a blank space. It was definitely easier to get ideas moving around in my head when I had a client that started fresh, versus some of the monstrosities I had been to in the past. I could still remember my first gig on my own, fresh out of my internship.

  The guy had bought a vintage Victorian and hadn’t touched a thing. The dust was still on the floor. I loved the charm and antique look of the place, but he wanted it completely modern, from top to bottom. My love of historical buildings interfered with my creative process so badly that I had to start designing inside of a computer program to avoid my attempts at keeping the historic appeal. Luckily, that guy thought it was charming and laughed every time I tried to sneak something in, just reminding me kindly of what he wanted. This woman, someone who had bought a house as a project that her husband gave her to keep her busy, was a complete bitch, and she had changed things on me 10 times before we had even settled.

  “So, try to imagine it as we are walking,” I said, putting my hands in the air as we walked into the house. “This entryway will be opened up by taking that load-bearing wall down. The staircase will be widened, creating a curving and cascading companionway. The steps themselves will be white marble, as you requested, with a dark teal runner to avoid slipping. The bannisters will curve down and come to a claw at the bottom. The floors will match the stairs.”

  “Okay,” the woman said, nodding her head. “And the art?”

  “We will go through several artists until you have chosen your pieces, or we have decided on a commission,” I sa
id.

  “Good,” she said, nodding her head.

  “Now, if you turn to your left, you will walk through into this room that was the dining room but will be transformed into the formal sitting room. The floors will be cherry oak as you requested, and the room will have a calming, neutral tone. This door will be expanded to double doors with etched glass panes. Very regal, yet soft in tone and expression.”

  “I don’t know,” the woman said, making me flinch. “I saw this formal living room in one of my magazines, and I loved it. The floors were the same, but everything was blue and pinstriped. I would love to add a fireplace in this room.”

  “Adding a fireplace, if possible, would be quite a cost increase,” I reminded her.

  “I don’t care about cost,” she barked. “This is my masterpiece.”

  “All right, I’ll come up with a new markup for you, and we can compare to see which one you like better,” I said through a forced smile.

  “Good,” she said, turning and walking from the room.

  I pulled out my phone and read the text from Ryan, thanking me for saving his ass for the 700th time over the last few days. It definitely was a shock to hear from him, especially after over a month of officially being stepbrother and stepsister. Still, I was more than happy to go over and watch Kayla. She always seemed like such a sweet girl. In reality, I had assumed that Ryan didn’t like me very much.

  He had always come off as cold and distant, almost nervous sometimes when I would try to strike up a conversation with him. I wanted to get to know him, but I decided to let it go, feeling that it was odd to press the issue, especially since we weren’t little kids. Our parents getting married now really meant nothing as far as our lives were concerned, except for the random get-together for the holidays, but even that was iffy these days. My mother had finally remarried, something I never thought would happen. Her new husband was a widower, and my mother might as well have been a widow. My father left when I was too young to really remember, and his presence in my life had been spotty ever since. I was just happy to see my mother happy again.

  My feelings toward Ryan were actually kind of complicated at first, and it was probably why I didn’t reach out right away to talk to him. When I met him, my first thought was instantly how handsome he was. His dark hair and light eyes were striking, and he kept himself in amazing shape. He was definitely a heartthrob, though his personality didn’t really show that. I assumed he would be cocky, but he wasn’t, at least when he talked to everyone else. He seemed like a very devoted family man, happy to see his father getting remarried, and loving his daughter to pieces.

  I had to keep reminding myself that my family gathering wasn’t a place to pick up men. I almost felt bad for thinking my stepbrother was hot, especially since I had no idea how acceptable that was or not. In reality, we weren’t related in any way at all, and we were both grown adults, but the idea of dating my stepbrother just sounded trashy and weird, so I took a big step backward and didn’t try to break through that wall he put up against me.

  Either way, I was watching little Kayla while he worked on some big project with his company. I understood the stress he was going through; our jobs were relatively similar. While I designed the inside of the houses, he designed the outside: something that was important to an interior designer. You should always have a perfectly landscaped yard since it was the first impression of a house when you pulled up. Everything after that was more for the comfort and style of the homeowner.

  “Can you go over the kitchen design one more time?”

  “Sure,” I said, flipping through my notebook. “You wanted a comfortable space with lots of natural light, which we have from the large windows in here. To make the space seem bigger than it already is, I suggested light tones, large-tiled floors, granite countertops with flecks of gold to magnify the lights, and stainless steel appliances to reflect the space and make it look even larger. The cabinets are specially etched and stained in a light yellow.”

  I watched her walking around the kitchen, looking at every tiny space that there was. I knew she wanted a bigger kitchen, but unless she wanted to get rid of the dining room, there was just no way that could happen, minus major construction. As she thought about things, my mind drifted back to Ryan and Kayla. I felt like this was a good time to really get to know him and reach out to him in a way that I felt he needed. I’d only ever had my older sister, and having a brother was a pretty big deal. It was obvious, too, that he really could use my help these days, especially with our parents being gone on their extended honeymoon. Kayla needed someone he could trust to watch her while he worked.

  “Could you maybe work up the numbers with the contractor if we were to extend the kitchen out, taking down this planter and just creating a bit more space?”

  “Of course,” I said, writing a note in my book. I really didn’t know why the woman didn’t build a house from scratch.

  “So, from here, there are two doors,” I said. “This one will stay swinging and solid, in order to shield your guests from the kitchen. The glass-paneled door at the entry to the kitchen will stay the same. Through the swinging door, we will find your dining room, which is accessible from the informal living room and the kitchen. You will, of course, be able to enter the living room from the hall where the double doors are, and it will stay the same.”

  “Right,” she said, walking into the empty dining area. “And we are going with formal and extravagant in here, correct?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Mahogany table, deep chestnut floors, a large ornate area rug, china cabinets that are modern but rich, and a large, tiered candle chandelier.”

  “I’ve been rethinking the candles,” she said, shaking her head. “It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Let’s get back with that designer and look at her other designs.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, trying not to sigh.

  For some reason, this was the woman I had pictured being married to Ryan, only younger. She had left Ryan and their daughter for his best friend. From what my mother told me, it was very difficult for everyone, and Ryan was still trying to get the hang of being a single father. This alone was a good enough reason to reach out to him and try to be there for him any way I could. I had only ever met Christina once, and it was when our parents had first gotten serious in their relationship. They had us all over for a meet and greet, and Christina stayed quiet, seemingly judging every move any of us made. I could definitely tell she thought she was better than my sister and me, and she made it very clear that Ryan was her husband, almost as if she were threatened by us.

  I didn’t know the woman at all really, but I couldn’t help but think badly of her. I didn’t understand how you could leave your doting husband and beautiful little girl like that. I had only spent a short amount of time with Kayla, but I could tell she was a smart and amazing child. Mothers were supposed to be there for their children, helping them grow and making sacrifices for them. I couldn’t say whether she and Ryan had problems or not, or if he was even a good husband to her, but I did know that she made an extremely selfish decision by abandoning her little girl.

  I shook the thoughts from my head, looking down at my watch, realizing I was running out of time. I had to be at Ryan’s house when Kayla got off the bus. I followed my client into the living room, the last room on the books for the day. She hemmed and hawed over lighting, carpet or wood floors, the patio door being larger than originally planned, and whether she wanted the rose color I had tried to talk her out of in the first place. This woman was absolutely impossible, but I needed this gig. It was a huge project and paid a lot of money, especially with all the changes she was constantly making. I made a percentage of the project cost, plus an hourly rate for all the planning work. She didn’t care about money, so I tried to appease her at every step, still keeping in mind that eventually, she would start to get antsy when she didn’t see much progress. I took in a deep breath, deciding it was time to try a different tactic.
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br />   “Mrs. Willows,” I said, walking over and taking her hands. “I know this is a very important project for you, and you are nervous about the outcome. Rightfully so. However, I have your best interests at heart, and I think that if you would allow me to complete your dining room with your concerns in mind, you will see that you can trust me with this project as a whole. Wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t have to stress about this so much?”

  “It would be,” she said, sighing. “I’ll agree to that. Do the dining room in our combined image, and we will go from there. Hopefully, I can just hand it all over and feel confident in your choices after that.”

  “Wonderful,” I said, watching her walk out of the room.

  I felt like I was always picking up everyone’s pieces, especially my crazy clients’.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan

  Working outside in Phoenix, Arizona could definitely test your ability to push through the blazing heat indexes that we tended to see, but fortunately, it was mid-March, and the temps were in a perfect 70-degree range. We had another emergency landscaping job, finishing up the yards for a few houses in a sub-community not far from my house. They were simple, but I made sure to be on site since these contracts were the bread and butter of my company, and I didn’t want to lose any of the contracts with these companies. My guys were trustworthy, but they weren’t professionals. They were the hands behind the visions, so I had to make sure I could answer all the questions they might have.

  “Thanks, Jose,” I said, patting my worker on the back. “That looks great. Just get the trim in there, and we can finish up with the mulching.”

 

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