Page 32 of Her Bossy Daddy

“I love you more.” Liam winked as he unlocked the door and strode out.

I counted to twelve and left the quiet safety of the bathroom. Perhaps this meeting would spark some ideas, but I’d wished it were with anyone but Milly.

* * *

Lacey

I rushed to Liam’s house with a purpose. Gossip swarmed around work when Milly and I had gotten back from lunch, but no real information had been provided. Something awful went down. Liam had gotten suspended. I’d left work hours earlier than usual, but there hadn’t been a manager around to stop me. I needed answers, and Liam was the only one who could provide them. I spied him sitting on his porch swing with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I dashed up the front steps, two at a time.

“Why were you suspended? The whole office is buzzing. What happened this afternoon?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He inhaled deeply on the cigarette in his hand and then used it to light another. “I told you as much via text. Stop with the questions for now.”

“I need to know.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “People are brutal. Rumors are flying.”

“I bet.”

“Liam, I need to know.”

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” He raised a beer bottle and took a swig. Who smoked and drank at four o’clock on a Wednesday? “Sit down if you want, but I’m not talking about it.”

“I won’t sit down.” I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to think of how to get to the bottom of all this. “Milly is walking around like she’s just won a beauty pageant or talent show or like she’s about to get a fucking promotion. Everyone else is eyeing me.”

“Why are others eyeing you, love?”

“I don’t know! Milly and I work closely with you. When I find out who is responsible for this, I will have their head.”

“I got accused of sexual harassment, Lacey, and you’re the only woman at work I’ve ever touched.”

“Wait, are you saying you think I had something to do with your being accused of something so awful? I would never do anything to hurt you!” Anger boiled through me, then got replaced by a bout of nausea. There had been a vile undertone in his voice that I’d never heard from him before. It could be the drinking, but his words weren’t slurred. I shook my head and tears blinded my vision. I needed to get far away from him.

“No, Lacey. Listen to me. I’m not saying that at all.”

“Fuck you, Liam!” I stormed away from him, but I misjudged the steps and my stupid clumsy feet tripped me. I scraped up my hands and knees, and my chin bounced off the pavement too. I pushed through the pain but my physical cuts and bruises hurt as much as the mental ones. Brushing off my embarrassment, I got to my feet as if nothing happened. Liam was hot on my tail, but I was done.

“Stop, Lacey.”

“No, Liam. You stop! Just leave me alone.” I hobbled toward the driver’s side door and got into the car. He grabbed for the handle, but I started the engine and then threw the car into reverse. I didn’t want to listen to anything he had to say. Raging, I accidentally knocked my Ford Focus gear shift into drive. The car lurched forward, and there was nearly zero reaction time. Aside from my bumper kissing the bumper of his Lexus, no other visible damage was done. I shifted the car slowly into reverse and then cut the engine. Liam said he didn’t want to talk about work, and I kept pushing. I didn’t respect his boundaries, and that wasn’t okay either. The door opened, but I dared not look at him.

“Let’s check you out, love.”

“Did you see what just happened?”

“Yeah. You almost got into an accident.”

“Uh, your car?” I gawked like he sprouted two more heads, and forced myself to find his eyes.

“A car can be replaced, love; you can’t.”

“You really hurt me when you made it sound like I was the one behind this bullshit at work.” My brain reminded me how he’d barely flinched at the potential damage to his expensive car. “I’m pissed at you.”

“Yeah. Well, you jumped to a conclusion I wasn’t making. I need time to wrap my head around some things, but I’d never put the blame on you for any of this.”

Great. Now I feel even worse. He picked me up without further fanfare, and then he carried me into the house. My mind was going at a hundred miles an hour. How can he still be this calm? He walked into the living room and set me down on the couch. I wore the same dress from lunch, sans pantyhose, which probably saved a pair of work pants, but my knees burned from scraping across the pavement.

Liam pulled the coffee table toward the couch and placed my legs on it. “Your knee is bleeding pretty hard.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. My stupid feet hate my face.”

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