Page 3 of Falling for My Best Friend's Dad
“I know,” I say, glancing at the pictures on Tina’s cellphone.
“We’re going again in December, to the Caribbean,” Tina informs me. “Want to come along?”
I pause to think of a good reason to decline, even though they know my concern.
“The restaurant won’t close down without you for a week,” John says, and his wife nods in agreement.
“Thank you,” I say. “Let me think about it.”
It’s just a polite refusal. There’s no way I can walk away from the business for a week, not even a day. It’s not because I don’t trust my employees. It’s just I can’t imagine leaving it that long.
But maybe it’s time for me to explore life while I can. I had the plan to travel once Ivy came home from college, but her engagement to Gavin threw me off balance.
“How’s Ivy? Has she found a job?” John asks.
I pause to think how to answer his question. “She’s helping my friend Gavin’s vineyard,” I say. “And they’re getting married soon.”
“Congratulations!” the couple comment.
“Thank you.”
I still have trouble believing it’s happening. Just a few months ago, I thought my baby daughter was finally back home for good and would stay with me for a while. I was hoping she wouldn’t leave me again anytime soon, but damn. She was snatched away just like that, in a blink of an eye, and by my best friend!
I’m happy for both of them, but at the same time, I feel lonelier than ever.
When the door to the parking opens, my eyes light up. Kayla. She looks good! She isn’t wearing her usual white shirt and black skirt, but a yellow sundress that clings to her curves and brightens her hazel eyes. It reminds me she had a party before work. I told her she could start later today, but the stubborn girl wouldn’t listen.
The girl has been a constant in my life for the past six years. She’s here every single day. Over the years when Ivy was away in Oregon, Kayla was more or less a substitute for her. Seeing Kayla is almost like seeing my daughter, almost, because although they’re best friends, the two girls are very different.
Kayla is more mature, confident, and calm. I’ve never seen her lose her temper, or “freak out” in Ivy’s words. She never needs my help to handle difficult customers. Hell, she does it better than me.
My eyes follow her as she wafts into the storeroom, and my body feels warm. I want to wrap up my conversation with the John and Tina and go to speak to Kayla. I want to ask her how the party was. But just then the door opens and Penny walks in.
I continue my conversation with John and Tina, knowing Penny would do what she could to keep me at her table if I were free.
Not to be rude, but Penny can be demanding. She is my accountant, and she used to be friends with Olivia. Although I regard our relationship as pure business, Penny has other ideas and never bothers to hide them. She’s been showing up at the restaurant way too often lately, soliciting dates with me. Although I am flattered by her attention, considering how picky she is, I’m not interested in her. She’s never been married although dated a lot. In Olivia’s words, Penny’s too smart for her own good. No guy meets her standard or withstands her scrutiny. I don’t know how to refuse her other than saying I’m busy and I dread going through that ordeal again.
From the corner of my eye, I see Kayla attempting to serve Penny and leaving her with the menu.
I try to come up with another topic that will keep John and Tina here longer but Tina glances at her watch and suggests to her husband it’s time they go home. John pulls out his credit card and I take it to the cash register at the bar counter.
“How was the party?” I ask Kayla, who’s reaching for a bottle of Zinfandel.
“It was good,” she answers. “Got to enjoy my grandma’s cooking again.”
More than once, she’s told me her grandma was a great cook. “You didn’t bring me anything?” I tease her.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, I didn’t know you were interested in Argentinian food.”
“I’m interested in any good food, no matter the nationality.”
“I wish I’d known,” she says with regret. “I could’ve brought you something.”
I laugh. “I’m joking, Kayla. But you should’ve stayed there longer. Your grandma must be mad at me.”
She giggles as she pours the wine into the glass. “She isn’t. She has eleven grandchildren. She barely notices one of them missing.”
“Oh, I doubt it,” I say. “Not when the one missing is the prettiest and brightest.”
