Page 11 of Beneficial Misfortune

The rest of the day flies by, and before I know it, it’s just Addison and me left.

“Hey, Addy, your daddy’s in a meeting today and can’t make it,” I tell her after everyone else has gone. Her face falls a bit, but she recovers quickly.

“Is Dessy coming?” she asks with a smile, and I shake my head, feeling bad that she’s stuck with me.

“No, your daddy’s sent a car, and I’m going to take you to his office to meet him,” I say, watching as her smile grows impossibly wider.

“Yay! Daddy’s office is so big, and Emily always has a sucker for me!” she cheers, bouncing around before quickly going to grab her backpack from the hook.

On the walk through the school, she tells me all about the office: how it has a fountain that she likes to throw pennies in to make a wish, how many people there are, and how many floors it has.

I can’t help but hope she’s overexaggerating. She’s only five, after all. It wouldn’t be that crazy for her to make it sound larger than life. But Nathaniel did say it was the largest business in New York, not to mention I’ve seen his suits and his limo a few times now.

Shit, what have I gotten myself into?

Speaking of his limo.

We walk out, and there it is, sitting out front in all of its black, shining glory. I’d seen them get into the car a few times at pickup, and the driver was always there, ready to open the door for them. But watching them take it and knowing I’m about to are two very different things.

Now, Addy and I are going to take it all the way across the city.

The driver is an older man who opens the door for us as we walk down the stairs. Something about him seems vaguelyfamiliar, but I can’t figure out from where, and I don’t want to keep staring at him like a weirdo.

“Thank you,” I say as we reach the door, and Addison hugs him before climbing in, clearly used to this and him.

He nods and gives me a polite smile as I make to follow Addison, stopping short when I hear my name being called behind me.

Crap. Of course, it’s Trevor.

Ever since the day he put his foot in his mouth with Nathaniel, he’s been more scarce. Not gone completely, but definitely not around so much, either popping up early in the morning or after Addison is already gone for the day.

I guess my luck had to run out eventually.

I turn to see Trevor jogging down the stairs toward me, eyeing the limo as if he’d never seen one before.

“Where are you off to?” he asks, and it seems like a reasonable question one might ask out of curiosity, but something about his tone says it’s more than that.

“Um, I’m taking Addison to Nathaniel,” I tell him, despite not really wanting to. But even with his off-putting tone, it’s not a secret. The note came from the office, so it’s not as if he couldn’t find out if he really wanted to.

“Why?” He snaps, his brows pinching as he looks at the driver in disgust before turning back to me.

I know he’s an ass, but so far, he’s been mostly nice to me, maybe too nice, in hopes of getting me to go out with him. His tone had thrown me when it was directed at me, but seeing the way he looks at this man who’s simply doing his job pisses me off.

“Excuse me, Ms, but Mr. Lawson will be waiting,” the driver says before I can say anything that might be considered unprofessional to a colleague.

The smile on his face is professional—the same one he’s had since he met us at the door—but something about his eyes tells me he knows what he’s doing.

“Yes, you're right,” I tell him before turning to get in the car without another word to Trevor.

The driver closes the door before walking back around to the front, getting in, and pulling away. I watch out the large back, dark tinted windows as Trevor stands there watching us go, unable to stop my chuckle at seeing his face turn red.

I’ll probably regret it later, but I can’t deny it felt good.

The glass divider that separates the driver from the back is down, and I slide down the seat toward it as Addison watches the city and people pass by.

“Thank you,” I say, keeping my voice down so as not to draw Addison’s attention.

His eyes flick to meet mine in the rearview for a moment, and he smiles. This smile is more genuine, not the same practiced professional one he had when he was holding the door.

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