Page 131 of Caught from Behind

He laughs—full out and loud. It’s Riggs’s laugh but different, something that’s also solely Todd’s.

It’s beautiful.

“There’s only one way to go down the stairs.” He leans in and I accept his quick hug. “And I’ll take up the beer issue with Riggs. I think the kid might have some pull.”

I grin. “You do that, Todd-o-Rama.”

He smirks, reaches for the door handle, then nearly topples forward when the glass and wooden panel is yanked open.

“Easy, asshole,” he mutters catching it before it collides with the wall.

I open my mouth, about to warn him off from yelling at potential clients, but my words stick in my throat.

And my knees go weak…

As my father crosses the threshold and walks right into the salon.

The cape falls from my hands, lands on the floor in a wrinkled puddle of black material.

I distantly process Todd stepping outside, the door closing behind him with a quiet snick.

And then I’m alone.

“Daniela.”

I close my eyes for a long moment, long enough that the name echoes through my head over and over again.

Daniela. Daniela. Daniela. Daniel?—

“Actually,” I manage to say, bending and picking up the puddled cape, “I prefer Ella.”

He doesn’t say anything so I wad up the material and carry it to the back, hoping that if I take long enough to put it in the laundry bin, to pack up my stuff, that he’ll be gone when I come out.

Unfortunately, that’s not to be.

He’s standing awkwardly next to my chair when I step out from behind the curtain, staring at the set of drawers.

At first, I think he’s trying to look at the stuff I have pinned there—a photograph of Nova and me, a little drawing from an elementary-aged girl who loved my haircut, a sticker that says Other Dogs Drool but Pugs Rule.

But then he says, “Your last name isn’t Adler.”

And I realize he’s looking at my cosmetology license, which has to be displayed where customers can see it.

I still, tightening my hands on my purse.

He lifts his head, eyes coming to mine. “You’re a Jacobson.”

“I haven’t been a Jacobson since the day Mom died,” I say quietly. “You made sure of that.”

He rocks back like I’ve hit him. “I?—”

“Even after all these years”—my voice is still quiet—“after all this time, you don’t even know that we changed our name? That Knox doesn’t play as Knox Jacobson, but Knox Adler?”

Fury like no other balls tightly in my stomach.

Todd was certainly no gem, especially over the last few years, and I hate how he treated Riggs. But also…he’s trying to do better.

No. He’s doing better.

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