Even the Score

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Even the Score Page 9

by Beth Ehemann


  Her hand flew up, covering her mouth. “Oooh, sorry! I said don’t be mad at me.”

  “Already?” I chuckled. “For what?”

  “I couldn’t stand the suspense. I had to see how much you got done last night, so I peeked in your office.” Her eyes lit up as she caught the corner of her bottom lip in between her teeth.

  Her excitement was making me even more excited. “Did you like it?”

  “Oh my God,” she groaned, tossing her head back. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe you got all that done in one night. What time did you leave?”

  “You don’t want to know. I think maybe one in the morning. Here, follow me.” I nodded toward my office with my head. “I want to set all this junk down.”

  She cupped her coffee mug in her hands and trailed behind me. The door swung open, and it was as if my office grew arms and reached out to hug me as I walked through it. It was warm and cozy and adorable, and I kinda wanted to add a couch just so I could sleep over if the mood ever struck.

  “You think if I asked really nicely, Andy would let me move my desk in here with you?” Ellie asked as she looked, starry-eyed, around the room.

  “I have a feeling we’d get no work done, but it’s worth a shot.” I giggled as I set my stuff down. Grabbing two new picture frames from my bag, I propped them up on the bookshelf.

  Ellie strolled over and took a closer look at everything on my shelf, noticing the new pictures I’d just added. “Oooh, he’s cute. Who’s that? Your boyfriend?”

  “Ew, no.” I turned up my nose, shaking my head quickly. “That’s my dad.”

  Her eyes nearly fell out of her head as she plucked the frame off the shelf, pulling it toward her for a closer look. “That’s your dad?”

  I rolled my eyes and nodded. It wasn’t the first time someone had complimented my father’s good looks, and frankly, not the first time someone thought he was my boyfriend.

  “Holy crap. Is he single?”

  “Ellie! Gross!” I snatched the picture back, returning it to the shelf. “Yes, he’s single, but no, you can’t date him.”

  “Seriously, he looks like he’s our age,” she said in disbelief. “Well, my age. Twenty-seven. I have no idea how old you are. How old are you, anyway?”

  I stared at her out of the corner of my eye, wondering how anyone could talk that damn fast. “I’m twenty-eight. And he’s forty-four, but yes, he’s aged very well.”

  I walked back over to my desk, but she remained by the shelf, still gawking at his picture. “Very well, he looks like a model. Wait, did you say he was only forty-four?”

  Here it comes.

  “That’s only sixteen years older than you!” she exclaimed.

  “Bingo.” I winked at her.

  “Holy crap. Your parents were young when they had you!”

  “They were. Very young.” I nodded as I added a few more files that I’d brought from home to my drawer.

  “Wow!” She looked up and down at all the frames again. “I don’t see any pictures of your mom?”

  “You won’t, either,” I scoffed.

  Ellie shot me a quick glance. “Can I ask why?”

  “I don’t know my mother.” I shrugged, rifling through the files to make sure I was putting them in the right order. “They had me at sixteen, and by seventeen she decided she’d had enough of parenting. Took off and never looked back. I’ve been raised one hundred percent by my dad.”

  “That’s amazing.” She plopped down on the chair and crossed her arms, staring off into space. “At seventeen I think I still thought babies were delivered by the stork.”

  I laughed out loud again. Ellie was innocent and bubbly and the type of person that typically drove me bat-shit crazy, but something about her was comforting, and I was finding myself more and more drawn to her.

  Suddenly she perked up. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head and smiled to myself. “My dad used to say that I was such a terror that I was the work of ten kids, and he couldn’t handle any more.”

  “Awww, so no nieces or nephews or anything like that?”

  I sat down in my desk chair and propped my feet up on the corner of my desk. “Trust me, that’s probably a good thing. Kids scare the shit out of me.”

  Ellie jerked her head back and crinkled up her nose. “Really? Why?”

  “I’ve never really been around them, so they just freak me out. Plus I swear like a truck driver most of the time. That usually doesn’t go over well, either.” I chuckled.

  “Can we go back to talk about your hot dad now?”

  “Uh . . . I’d prefer we not.”

  “Is he single?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You already asked me that.”

  “I did?” She frowned as a piece of her light blonde hair fell over her eyes. “Well, I already forgot what your answer was. Tell me again.”

  “Yes, he’s single, at least for the day. Tomorrow? Who knows.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “California.”

  “Why?”

  “They don’t have winter. He hates snow. He was also a dumb teenager who grew into a very smart man. Started his own construction company in his early twenties and made a lot of money in a short period of time, invested it wisely, and retired at forty. He still owns the company, but he hired people to run most of it while he lives on the beach and still collects a big-ass check every month.”

  Ellie’s mouth hung open as she stared at me blankly. “Oh my God. I really do want to marry him.”

  “Gross. Get out,” I said playfully.

  “Tell me more about your mom and him,” she insisted.

  “There’s not much to tell. My mother broke his heart completely. He was barely old enough to drive a car, but he knew he wanted to marry her and take care of her for the rest of her life. He’ll never put himself through that again. Damaged goods, El. He’s a total Leonardo DiCaprio who dates all these beautiful women but won’t ever settle down.”

  Before she could make any more comments about my father, my cell phone rang from inside my purse. I plucked it out and looked at the screen.

  “Speak of the devil.” I smirked at her before turning my phone on. “Hi, Dad.”

  Ellie’s eyes bugged out, and she clapped both hands on her chest as she pretended to faint, slithering out of the chair and landing with a thud on the floor.

  “Hey, kid. Is this a bad time?” my dad asked, confused by my laughing at Ellie.

  “No. Just a lunatic in my office. Not really different than any other day.” I stuck my tongue out at Ellie, who’d now pulled herself back up to the chair. She grabbed a piece of paper from my desk and began writing something. “So what’s up?”

  “Nothing.” My dad sighed. “I just thought I’d try and catch you before you went in to work, but I can see that didn’t happen.”

  “Nope. Early bird catches the worm. Isn’t that what you always taught me?” I glanced at the time on my computer. “Why the hell are you awake anyway? It’s only six o’clock in California.”

  “Because not only does the early bird catch the worm, the early morning surfer catches the good waves.”

  Ellie stopped writing and slid the paper over to me. It read, “Tell him to call me. 612-555-7478.” I twisted my face in disgust as I wadded up the paper and threw it at her, laughing again when it bounced off her forehead.

  “All right, well I can tell you’re working hard,” he teased, “and I want to get out there for a while before breakfast anyway, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Maybe give me a call tonight and fill me in on what’s going on with you?”

  “I will, Dad. Lots to tell you about. I quit my job.”

  “What?”

  “But don’t worry, I already have another one. A better one. Except for the lunatic in my office part. I’ll call you tonight and tell you everything.”

  “Sounds good, sweetheart. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

&
nbsp; Ellie held her hands up, cupping them around her mouth as she whispered loudly, “I love you, too, Mr. Douglas.”

  I put my phone away and booted Ellie from my office so I could get some work done. She hadn’t even been gone ten minutes, and there was a knock on the door again.

  “I’m not giving you his phone number, Ellie! Go away!” I called out, trying not to laugh.

  The door creaked as it opened, and Andy stuck his head in. “Hey.”

  “Oh, crap!” I sat straight up. “Sorry, I thought you were Ellie.”

  He laughed, lifting just one corner of his mouth as he leaned on the door frame with one arm and put his other hand in his pocket. “No problem. Whose number aren’t you giving Ellie?”

  “Oh. My father’s.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I waved my hand. “It’s nothing. We were just goofing around.”

  “Okay.” He chuckled. “Well, I just wanted to say good morning and check on you. Do you need anything?”

  The last couple of days had been such a whirlwind, from getting a job offer at a bar to quitting Leighton to starting at Shaw Management. Everything felt like it was moving in hyperspeed. Now that I was finally sitting and had a chance to take a deep breath for the first time, I noticed how attractive Andy really was, especially in a suit. He wasn’t the type of guy that you saw across a crowded room and couldn’t take your eyes off of; he was sneak-attack hot. You were all prepared to write him off as a wholesome, boring dad who drove his kids to soccer on the weekends, then he showed up in your office on a Tuesday morning wearing a sharp-ass, navy-blue suit that made your mouth go dry instantly.

  Jesus, Dani. He asked you something. Answer him!

  “Nope, so far so good. It’s still early, though.” I chuckled, feeling nervous in his presence all of a sudden.

  “Okay. If you need me, you know where to look.” With that he smiled and shut my door as I stared at my computer screen, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal.

  CHAPTER 13

  Andy

  Danicka had been working at the office less than a week, but I was already feeling a little less pressure. She’d jumped right in, solidifying her client list after the big switch and spent the day before watching college tapes. Not only did she whip through them as fast as I could have, her notes about each athlete were spot-on and matched exactly what I’d thought about them myself. I knew, because they were tapes I’d already watched once. I felt bad not telling her, but I also needed to test her a bit and see how in sync we were with our assessments.

  She passed with flying colors, and to celebrate, I was going into work late. I didn’t have time to take a whole day off yet, but I could certainly go in a few hours late. I’d had Ellie move two conference calls from the morning to the afternoon and switch one meeting to next week, and just like that, I had a free morning. After the kids had gone to bed the night before, I’d told Gloria about my idea to surprise the kids, and like a true team player, she’d said she was in.

  The next morning, as I enjoyed a few extra minutes relaxing in between the cool sheets of my bed, the smell of bacon wafted all the way up the stairs, under the crack in my bedroom door, and straight into my nose. Instantly I knew that Gloria had followed through. I sat up in bed and stretched my arms up high, excited to have some extra time with Logan and Becca. Like an eager kid on Christmas morning, I rushed from my room into Becca’s. What was a late morning for me was still an early morning for my summer sleepyheads. I turned the knob to Becca’s door, cringing as it creaked open. The sun had started to peek through the pink curtains on her window, but she was still sound asleep with Cheer Bear tucked up under her arm. I knelt down next to her bed and brushed a few of the crazy blonde hairs from her face as I leaned in close, nuzzling her cheek with my nose. Even at six years old, she still smelled like a baby to me.

  As I planted light kisses on her cheek, she groaned and swatted at me with her hand.

  “Baby girl, time to get up,” I whispered, giving her plump cheek more kisses.

  “I’m tired,” she whined, rolling away from me.

  I put my hand on top of her head, gently massaging her tiny ear with my thumb. “Honey, I’m not going into work for a few hours. I have a surprise for you.”

  Just as I expected, when I said the s-word, she sat up slowly, brushing the rest of her wild blonde hair from her face. “Surprise?”

  “Yep.” I nodded. “It’s nothing too major, but I think you’ll like it. Why don’t you go potty while I wake Logan?”

  She nodded and hopped off her bed as I made my way down the hall to Logan’s bedroom, tiptoeing in quietly. Oddly enough, Logan’s room was my favorite room in the whole house. He was a baseball freak, and I did all I could to nurture his obsession. Last year he’d told me he wanted to redo his room and make it baseball themed. Not only did I agree, I went a little overboard. And by a little, I mean a lot. I hired a local artist to paint his walls to look exactly like Target Field, home of his favorite baseball team . . . the Minnesota Twins. We’d replaced what would have been the Jumbotron in left field with a brand-new TV on the wall, and his bed was where the batter’s box was. A wooden home plate–shaped display case hung on the wall, housing signed baseballs from different Twins players over the years. Logan’s room was basically my dream bedroom as a kid.

  I pulled up a stool next to him and sat down. His face was tan from all those hours playing baseball, and his hair was getting blonder and blonder. I reached out and brushed his cheek with the backs of my fingers, and his eyes flinched.

  “Buddy.” I leaned in, whispering softly.

  His eyes fluttered open, and he frowned at me, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He sat up quickly, almost in a panic.

  “Relax, relax.” I put my hand on his shoulder to slow him down. “It’s just Dad.”

  He squinted from the bright light of the window, scanned his room quickly, then turned back to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m going into work a little late today and thought I’d surprise you guys. Go to the bathroom and head downstairs.”

  I stood up and moved toward the door.

  “Should I change?” he asked, still confused as he looked down at his blue-and-red plaid pajama bottoms.

  “Nope. Leave that on. You’re fine.”

  Logan went straight across the hall to the bathroom, and I headed down the hall. Becca was sitting at the top of the staircase, hugging her knees while her chin rested on the top of them, half asleep.

  “Could you please not fall asleep at the top of the stairs? I really don’t want you rolling down them this morning.” I laughed as I walked down a couple of steps and sat in front of her. “Hop on.”

  She knew exactly what I meant, as she climbed onto my back, locking her hands under my chin.

  I carried her down the steps and into the kitchen, setting her down on the island.

  “No booties on my countertops,” Gloria scolded me as she lifted Becca off the counter and set her down on the stool, kissing her forehead.

  “Thanks for this morning, Gloria. I really appreciate it,” I said as sincerely as I could.

  She pursed her lips together, eyeing me skeptically as she tucked a container of grapes into a basket. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me for this one, Mr. Shaw.”

  “First of all, I’ve been telling you for eight years now, call me Andy. Second, anything you want. Name it.” I winked at her as Logan came into the kitchen.

  He looked from the stove to the counter to the table and back to me. “What’s the surprise?”

  My eyes slid to Gloria. “Are we all set?”

  “We are”—she nodded as she handed me the basket—“Mr. Shaw.”

  I rolled my eyes as I bent down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” I turned back toward the kids, hoping they were as excited as I was. Becca’s head was leaning against the chair back as she yawned, and Logan’s head rested in his arms on the island. “You guys look like zombies! Come on, follow me.”
I walked over to the sliding glass door that led to the backyard.

  “Out there? In our pajamas?” Logan asked incredulously.

  “What are you, the pajama police? Come on!” I teased as I waved my arm on my way out into the yard. Becca slowly climbed down from the chair, and they followed me out to the yard.

  I walked across the large wooden deck, down the steps, and across the grass.

  “Where are we going?” Logan called out.

  “The grass is still wet,” Becca whined.

  “Come on, you big babies!” I made my way over to the huge tree in the back corner of our yard. When Blaire and I split, I was originally going to keep the ridiculously oversized castle-style house she’d had us build years ago, but it was cold and impersonal, just like her, so it seemed fitting that I let her have it. Instead, I bought the perfect house for us a couple of towns over, in a quieter, more family-friendly suburb, but still close enough for me to not spend three hours in the car driving to and from work each day. The must-haves for me were a fantastic first floor in-law arrangement for Gloria and a huge backyard for me and the kids.

  Blaire hated the outdoors, so we’d never spent any time outside in the other house. The day I closed on this house, Logan, Becca, and I pitched a tent in the backyard and camped out. The next week, I hired a carpenter and we built a tree house. The perfect tree house . . . with real wooden slats nailed to the trunk as a ladder, a sturdy platform, a couple of windows, and a roof to keep it all dry. The rest of the decorating was up to their imaginations.

  I stopped at the base of the tree and turned to face them. “Ta-da!”

  “This is it?” Logan raised his eyebrows and glanced up at the tree, trailing his eyes back down to me.

  “Yep, this is it,” I said proudly. “Come on up.” Swinging the handle of the basket over one arm, I turned around and started climbing the rungs up the tree. As I got to the top, I turned and looked down at Logan and Becca, who were both standing with their hands on their hips, staring up at me like I was crazy.

  “Are you gonna stand down there all day, or are you gonna come up here and help me eat Gloria’s famous cinnamon rolls?” I called down to them.

 

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