Page 106 of The One I Want
“Not only do I not want to talk to him, he interrupted my favorite song.” I throw the cloth down and wipe my hands up before I hit accept.
“Dad.”
“Are you ignoring me or just that forgetful these days?”
“Do you want the truth?”
I hear him let out a sigh that screams of disappointment. “Why are you like this Betsy? What can’t you—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I say as I take a seat at the kitchen island, putting the call to speakerphone. “Whatever you were going to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Oh, you’re going to hear it,” he says. “Why didn’t you return Ted’s email? He went out of his way to contact you, the least you could have done is written back.”
“Because I didn’t want the job,” I say. “I’m sorry I ghosted your friend. Now he knows what it feels like to be a single woman these days.”
“I don’t even know what that means, but I guess if it’s coming from your mouth it’s probably something sarcastic.”
“See, Dad, youdoknow me.”
He lets out another sigh. Two in two minutes? That might be my new personal best. “You should have taken the interview, Betsy. It would have been perfect for you.”
“How do you know that Dad?”
“Because,” he pauses, which is a clue that he doesn’t know the answer.
“Exactly,” I say before he can continue. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t take your buddy’s interview. I’ll email him to say I’m sorry if that will get your panties out of a bunch. But I need you to listen: I’m happy here. There is no job in the world that would make me leave, especially one I knew I only got because my dad made a phone call.”
“You’re going to regret this Betsy,” he says. “You’re living in a fantasy world right now. One day you’re going to realize you need a real job. That being a nanny and making videos with a kindergartener isn’t a way to make a living.”
“But at least I’ll be happy. Bye, Dad. Don’t call again.”
I hit the end button and let out a breath, coming down from the adrenaline rush.
“He’s right, you know.”
I jump so high I nearly fall out of the chair at the sound of Wes’s voice.
“When did you get back?”
“A few minutes ago.” He walks to the other side of the island.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know that I agree with your Dad.”
I have to blink a few times because no way he said those words. “You agree with him? About what, exactly?”
He leans down on the white counter, his hands clasped as he looks down. “I agree with him that you’d be perfect for it. And I agree that you might one day regret it.”
I just stare at him in shock. I didn’t know how we were going to get this out in the open today, but here it goes. And apparently we’re picking up where we left off last night.
“Why are you assuming I want this? What in the world makes you think that?”
The look he gives me is one he never has before, but I’ve seen it many, many times.It’s how my dad would look at me—like I’m stupid and not understanding what he thinks is obvious.
Coming from Wes it hurts a thousand times worse.
“How could you not want it? It’s the perfect job for you.”
