Page 54 of Daddy's Princess

He tips his hat and gives her a knowing smile. “Good night.”

It dawns on me a second later. “Why do you have Lois’ number?”

My mom opens her mouth to respond, then snaps it shut and blushes again. “He’s just a friend.”

Lois has worked here for years. I remember seeing him as a boy and him sneaking me treats. He’s a good man. My dad has been gone for three years. My mom deserves to be happy, and if I was reading the heated look Lois gave her, there is definitely some happy to be had there.

“It’s okay, mom. Lois is a good man.”

Her breath comes out in a rush. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t want you to find out like that… it’s just… since your father…”

I grab her up in a hug. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand. I’d tell you dad would want you to be happy, but I’m too much his son, and I would be a jealous bastard if—”

She smirks up at me. “IfSugarwere to find another man?”

“How did you know?”

She pats my arm and rolls her eyes. “A mother always knows, darling.”

20

Sugar

My sketchbook isn’tat Oliver’s. I look everywhere and can’t find it, the only other place it can be is at the office. I debate on calling Oliver to have him look for me, but I don’t want to bug him again. He’s done a great job of hiding it, but I know he’s stressed about Wildwood. His mom was extremely upset after seeing the storyboards last week, and even though Jeff and Barry assured him they could fix it, he’s not convinced.

I’m not convinced.

Hell, Barry isn’t convinced. In fact, I heard a rumor that he turned in his resignation today. Not that I’m surprised. Like I told Oliver, Titan-Rose was just a means to an end for him, not his dream career. That thought brings me back to my sketchbook. The whole reason I realized it was missing is because I was going to show it to Oliver at dinner tonight.

Not that I think they are good enough, but the sketches I roughed out for Wildwood could at least give one of the other illustrators a jumpstart on picking up where Barry left off—which is literally on the drawing board since none of the illustrations were approved. It doesn’t take me long to decide to head over to the office to look for my sketchbook. Locating it could help relieve some of Oliver’s stress.

The lobby is practically abandoned. Only Lois, who works building security, and—Wait, is that? Oh my, it’s Oliver’s mom. And she is totally flirting with Lois. I wonder if Oliver knows… I sneak past them so as not to interrupt their flirting. Just before the elevator doors close, Lois pulls Eloise in for a toe-curling level kiss.

Go, Eloise!

A few minutes later, I let out a frustrated sigh. I’ve checked my desk, the break room, and both the conference rooms I’ve worked in, and my sketchbook isn’t anywhere. Where could it be? My heart feels heavy in my chest and the thought of it being lost. To most people, it wouldn’t be a huge deal, it’s just paper… for me, my sketchbook is like a journal. I pour my heart and soul into each pencil stroke. I feel like I’m missing an integral part of myself.

Dejected and needing a hug, I head toward Oliver’s office. My steps falter when I hear feminine laughter coming from the direction of his office. Maybe Janis stayed to help? Except in the month I’ve been here, I haven’t seen the woman crack a smile once. The laughter comes again, followed by the low rumble of Oliver’s voice. My feet carry me in the direction of his voice without my permission.

It takes me a moment to realize what it is I’m seeing. Britney is leaning over Oliver’s desk. Practically laying against him while she points to something on the desktop. She smiles and touches his arm. He says something that I can’t hear, and her smile widens, that hand running up his bicep.

And then… She. Kisses. Him. And heletsher.

I don’t stop to question why. I don’t run in and slap her and stab him in the eye with a pen. Though, the vengeful part of me wants that very much. The only thought in my mind is that I have to get the hell out of here. So that’s exactly what I do. When the elevator doors don’t immediately open after I hit the button, I make a dash for the stairwell.

I don’t want to risk Britney or Oliver seeing me. I don’t want Oliver to know that I know. It makes so much sense why Britney was so catty over my relationship with him. Because she is in one too.

Instead of taking the train, I grab a cab. All the way home, I ask myself on repeat how I could be so damn stupid. I’m an idiot. The whole time Oliver was pursuing me. Trying to convince me to give him a chance, I never once questioned if there was another woman. Why would I?

By some miracle, I make it all the way home before the tears start. Once they do start, they don’t stop. I’m heartbroken. I’ve never been gladder that Candace often travels for work than I am right now. I just want to be alone with my sketchbook. A choking sob is wrenched from my chest when I realize I don’t have my sketchbook.

Some rational part of my brain knows that I could just go grab one of the half-dozen brand-new still-in-the-package sketchbooks that are on my shelf, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want a new sketchbook. I wantmysketchbook. Losing it is like losing my dearest friend. One that I desperately need right now.

Fully clothed, I crawl into the middle of my bed and cry myself to sleep.

* * *

I’mbleary-eyed when my alarm goes off. My face feels puffy, and my eyes burn like I cried in my sleep all night. The wet spot under my cheek tells me that it might not be too far from the truth. My head is pounding, and my stomach feels sour. If I didn’t know better, I would think I’m hungover.

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