Best Friend's Daddy (A Single Dad Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  I tensed at the mention of his name, but I shook my head and pulled on my boots. “No,” I said shortly.

  “Good,” she nodded with satisfaction. “I’m glad he finally got the message.”

  “Oh, I think he got the message loud and clear the last time,” I said. “I’ve never heard so many swear words come out of one person before.”

  “That’s because you’ve never come across anyone else like me before,” Haley said proudly. “He was a bastard. You’re better off without him.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Kami.”

  “I said yeah,” I replied defensively.

  “Didn’t sound very convincing.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I sighed. “He was a big part of my life there for awhile.”

  “Only because you hid so much of that relationship from me for so long,” Haley said accusingly. “If I’d known what an asshole he was to you, then I would have gotten rid of him a long time ago.”

  I turned away from her and grabbed my shoulder bag. “We should get going,” I said, hoping to leave this topic behind. “Otherwise we’re going to be late.”

  Haley and I had opened our little restaurant almost five years ago. It was the tiniest space imaginable and only had room for four small tables, but we’d gained popularity quickly because of how kitschy and unique our menu was. I liked to experiment with food, and Haley had built a good enough rapport with the customers. Once word spread, we’d had people lining up outside our place, hoping to get a table.

  We had named our restaurant Natalie’s after our mother, and it was located only a ten-minute walk from our apartment. It had taken us nearly a decade to be able to afford to buy out the tiny space, but it was a start we were hoping to capitalize on one day. Or at least that’s what Haley said. I for one liked the fact that our restaurant was small and intimate. I liked that it was just Haley and I running things. And, I liked that we could handle the operation on our own.

  Haley’s dreams were bigger than mine, however; they always had been. Sometimes I found myself being left behind. We turned the corner and caught sight of the line that had formed outside Natalie’s. Haley quickened her pace and walked straight for them.

  “Hi, everyone,” she greeted loudly, as she approached them. “Lovely day to spend standing in a line, huh?”

  The crowd rallied around her once they knew she was the owner. I hung back, watching a little, amused and impressed by how easily she could manage a conversation with perfect strangers. After a few minutes, I snuck inside and left Haley to the crowd. I turned on the lights and got the kitchen ready. Then, I started preparations for all the main dishes of the day.

  Fifteen minutes later, Haley walked into the kitchen. “We’ve got a good crowd out there,” she said, with a huge smile. She loved being the center of attention. “Nice people.”

  “You say that every day,” I reminded her.

  “That’s because it’s true every day,” she said, as she pulled on her eye-catching red apron.

  “Have you got orders for me?”

  “Two orders of the caramel risotto,” she said as she placed the dockets in a neat row in front of me. “Four orders of the salmon with quinoa and truffle sauce, an order of the garlic sesame shrimp chowder, and an order of the roast duck with peppermint and parsley. Also, there’s a lady out there who requested to try the bacon risotto with shrimp and scampi.”

  “That was last week’s menu,” I said.

  “I know,” Haley nodded. “I told her that once our menu changes, there’s no going back, but she insisted I ask the chef.”

  “You’ll have to repeat yourself then,” I said. “Because I don’t have the ingredients for that dish. She’ll have to pick something that’s on this week’s menu.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Haley smiled. “There’s always one.”

  “There is,” I agreed.

  I turned off my brain and got to work. Cooking was my therapy. I fell into an almost hypnotizing trance, and when I eventually snapped out of it, I usually had a bunch of unique new dishes on plates in front of me. I was particularly excited about my menu for this week. I had spent one whole night crafting it, and I was eager to have people try it.

  I worked diligently through the first two hours, without once raising my head, but I didn’t mind it at all. This was what I loved to do.

  “How are people liking the food?” I asked Haley as she passed in and out of the kitchen.

  “They love it,” she said. “As usual. The caramel risotto seems to be the highlight, though. I’ve got three more orders for you.”

  “Excellent,” I smiled.

  “Also, there are two people out there who want to speak to the chef,” Haley said.

  “What?” I said, panicking a little. “Why?”

  “Calm down,” Haley said quickly. “They just want to compliment you.”

  “Umm…tell them I’m too busy,” I said, biting my lip.

  “Aw come on, Kami,” Haley urged. “They have nothing but good things to say about your food. Surely you want to hear that?”

  “It’s enough to know they liked everything,” I said, focusing on my duck in the pan. “I don’t actually need to meet with them.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, making one last attempt to convince me.

  “A hundred percent,” I nodded.

  “Fine,” she sighed, before grabbing the finished plates of food and heading back out there.

  Two hours later and the lunch rush had subsided. The last customers had been ushered out by Haley’s companionable smile and it was safe for me to enter the dining area without fear of having to talk to anyone.

  Haley got the books out and crunched the numbers as I set down two plates with our lunch. “I decided to make you the caramel risotto today,” I said, knowing she liked to be surprised. “And, I opted for the salmon.”

  “All right,” she said, as she spooned risotto into her mouth. “Boy is that good!”

  “How good?”

  “Ten out of ten.”

  I smiled, mostly because Haley never gave me anything but a ten out of ten. “How’d we do today?” I asked.

  “Amazing,” she smiled. “Better than yesterday, actually. The dinner rush is going to be crazy.”

  “I’m prepared.”

  “I know you are,” she nodded. “You always are. Which makes me think…we could expand a little.”

  “Haley—”

  “I know how you feel about it, Kami, but progress is the only way forward,” Haley argued. “Why should we stay this small when we have so much room to grow?”

  “Growing comes with its share of problems,” I reminded her. “Everything is under our control now. If we get bigger, then it’s going to be harder to manage everything.”

  “Of course it will be if it’s going to be just the two of us,” Haley said. “I’m talking about getting a bigger place, hiring some staff…a few waiters, maybe even a sous chef?”

  I looked at her appalled. “You know I don’t like to cook with other people.”

  Haley sighed. “Just think about it, okay?”

  I bit my tongue and refrained from responding too quickly. I hated the idea of change and hated the idea of expanding the restaurant. But most of all, I hated the idea that life and all its many challenges were just too much for someone like me.

  Chapter Three

  JJ

  I decided to come in a little early that morning. I was so early, in fact, that Marla hadn’t come in yet. It didn’t matter; I had a copy of today’s agenda and a clear plan of how my next few weeks at the clinic were going to go. I liked to be methodical about my practice, mostly because it eliminated the risk of any surprises.

  I walked around the third story where my office was and checked out the consultation rooms and the lunchroom where the coffeemaker was kept. I brewed myself a nice strong cup of coffee, grabbed a newspaper from the stack in one corner, and headed towards my office. I always liked early morni
ngs. There was a certain calm quiet about them. It was when I did my best thinking.

  I sat at my desk, opened the newspaper, and started reading. I lost myself in the current events of the day, until my door opened and Marla stuck her head inside.

  “You’re already here, doctor?” she said, seeming a little flustered by my presence.

  “Good morning, Marla,” I smiled.

  “Good morning,” she smiled back.

  “Is Doctor Wall here yet?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” she shook her head. “But it’s still early.”

  A couple of minutes later, Danny walked through the door. He hadn’t yet put on his doctor’s whites yet and he looked much younger without them.

  “Marla told me you came in early,” he said, skipping the pleasantries.

  “I did,” I nodded, turning the page of my newspaper.

  “And you’re…reading a newspaper?” Danny said, as though the observation shocked him.

  “I am,” I nodded.

  “That is so old fashioned,” Danny said, as he took a seat in front of me.

  “It’s how I get my news.”

  “You know you could also get your news scrolling through your phone or getting on the Internet,” he pointed out. “It’s actually a much more efficient way of getting the news.”

  “Reading the newspaper has become a lost art,” I sighed, shaking my head. “Trust me, there’s nothing like feeling the paper between your fingers as you turn through the pages.”

  “Are you being serious?”

  I smiled. “My father used to read the newspaper a lot,” I tried to explain. “It was a habit of his that just sort of…rubbed off on me, I suppose. That and I genuinely like flipping through a newspaper in the mornings.”

  “You know, you don’t seem that old,” Danny said. “But when you talk…”

  “I know,” I said, cutting him off. “I’ve heard that my whole life. Now, we need to go over the agenda for today.”

  “All right,” he nodded. “What do we have?”

  “Only two appointments this morning,” I told him. “A Botox injection and a nose job. I intend to have you administer the Botox injection.”

  “Awesome,” Danny nodded. “Easy as pie.”

  “I’ve looked over the patient file,” I said. “The patient’s name is Patricia Kimmel. She’s fifty-three years old, and this is her fifth round of injections.”

  “Okay.”

  “I expect you to know all your patients’ names before you walk into the room with them,” I told him. “It’s important, especially given what we do, that the patient is comfortable and that they trust us.”

  “Understood,” he nodded. “Maybe after our appointments, we can grab lunch at the new Urban Village spread. It’s only a short drive from here.”

  “That sounds nice, but unfortunately, I have a personal errand I need to get done today. I’ll be away for lunch. But maybe tomorrow?”

  I detected a small bend of curiosity in Danny, but he refrained from asking. Instead, he rose to his feet to put on his white coat. “I always feel so grown up in this,” he said.

  I smiled. “I remember I used to feel the same way.”

  “And, it’s a magnet for attracting hot girls.” He gave a suggestive smile.

  He was definitely a lot like Sam, I thought to myself, and after making that connection, it was impossible for me not to like him.

  “Women must be all over you,” Danny asked. “You’re young-ish, you’re good looking, and you’re a doctor.”

  “What do you mean I’m young-ish?”

  Danny laughed. “I only kid.”

  “Sure,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. I liked that he was easy to get along with and wasn’t stiff and overly professional. It would make mentoring him that much easier if our rapport was built on friendship, rather than a stuffy, student-professor-type of relationship.

  We headed over to our first appointment, and I supervised Danny as he introduced himself and administered the Botox injection to Patricia Kimmel. He handled himself well and didn’t appear as inexperienced as he was. Fifteen minutes after we said goodbye to Patricia, our next appointment walked in. Her name was Louisa Carter, and she was a thirty-five-year-old woman who had struggled to make peace with her natural nose.

  “I can’t stand it,” she said fiercely. “And trust me, I’ve tried to get used to the nose. But I’m just so self-conscious about it. Honestly, I feel as though I’ll be far more confident if I just get it done.”

  I nodded. “Of course, Ms. Carter,” I said. “We’ll have to go over a few preliminary samples so that I can get an idea of what you want.”

  “I want a sharp nose,” she said immediately. “I want something sleek, simple and straight.”

  “We can certainly try to achieve that for you,” I nodded. “But we also need to see what will work with your natural features.”

  “I’m open to suggestions,” she conceded reluctantly.

  Danny and I spent the next two hours going through different nose types that might suit Louisa’s oblong face and tilted eyes. She was not an unattractive woman; it’s just that she had heavy features that were made heavier by the size and width of her nose.

  “I have to admit,” she said as we wound up the appointment. “I’m nervous.”

  “Of course, you’re nervous,” I said, placing a bracing hand on her shoulder. “This is a huge change to make, and it’s on your face. But you don’t have to worry about a thing. I’m a good doctor, and you can trust that I will do my absolute best for you.”

  Louisa smiled immediately and I could see the relief flood through her face. “Good,” she nodded. “Because I don’t want to end up like Frankenstein.”

  “Understood,” I nodded.

  After she left, Danny turned to me thoughtfully. “Do you ever question what we do?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, taken off guard by the question.

  “I mean… Do you ever feel bad about…changing women’s appearances?”

  “Oh,” I said, finding the question much too uncomfortable for my taste. I fell silent for a moment, but I knew Danny was waiting on my answer.

  “It’s a complicated issue,” I said slowly. “But this is the way that I feel about it. People in general, but women in particular, tend to be extremely vulnerable when it comes to their looks. It’s society’s fault really, women are so often held to unrealistic standards of beauty. But the honest truth is, if there is some way in which a woman can feel better about herself, then I’m happy to make that happen.”

  “Even if it means completely changing her face?” Danny asked. “Even if it means completely changing who she is?”

  “I’m not changing who she is,” I said, trying to keep my tone from becoming overly defensive. “I’m just changing what she looks like.”

  “Some would argue that it’s the same thing.”

  “Who would argue?”

  “My little sister for one,” he shrugged. “She feels that plastic surgery is unnecessary, and that I’m buying into superficiality by opting to become a plastic surgeon. She’s seventeen.”

  I smiled. “Sounds like a strong young woman in the making.”

  “Oh, for sure,” Danny nodded. “I’m eleven years older and I still feel like the immature sibling.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Grace,” Danny replied.

  “Well, I understand where Grace is coming from,” I nodded. “The fact is that I do think women should keep the faces and bodies they were given. But if keeping what they were born with makes them so unhappy that it infringes upon their lives and relationships, then I’m okay with changing whatever they want changed.”

  Danny nodded. “That’s a good way of putting it. I’ll have to remember that the next time I go back home.”

  “I have to head off now,” I said, as I removed my doctor’s coat.

  “Oh, right,” Danny nodded. “Your personal errand.”

  “I should
n’t be more than an hour or two,” I said. “If you get back here before I do, you can read through our next patient file and familiarize yourself with the details.”

  “Okay,” Danny nodded, as I headed for the door.

  His question had left a bad taste in my mouth, and I thought about the moral nuances of my job. I had always strived to make a person’s life better through my work. The cases that were most important to me were the ones that involved reconstructing a person’s face after any major traumatic incident. But the truth was I got far less of those cases and far more that involved boob jobs, nips, tucks, fillers, and botox injections.

  I pushed the doubt out of my head as I focused on the task at hand. I needed a clear head for that, and I was already starting to feel the nerves. I pulled out the piece of paper that Peter had handed me just before I left Colorado.

  “Here’s her address,” he had told me. “I believe this is where she lives. But I can’t be sure.”

  I stared at the piece of paper until I had memorized the address, then I turned on my GPS and followed the instructions. Seventeen minutes later, I pulled up in front of a suburban street lined with small houses. It wasn’t the most impressive neighborhood I had ever come across, but it wasn’t the worst, either.

  I checked the numbers on the mailboxes outside each house. Number five turned out to be a small, one-story house with yellow shutters and old-fashioned curtains in the windows. The walls’ white paint job had worn off a little, but apart from that, it was clear that the house had been maintained well. The garden in particular was beautiful, lined with little magnolias, petunias, and vibrant green shrubbery.

  I parked opposite the house and sat nervously in my car, wondering what my next move was going to be. I reminded myself that Peter’s information could be wrong and I might be sitting in front of the wrong house. Just at that moment, the front door opened and a woman stepped out.

  She was lean and graceful, like she could have been a ballerina. She had aged, of course, but it seemed that age suited her. She was still a beautiful woman. Her dark-brown hair hung loose around her head, and she had a quiet confidence that I couldn’t recognize.