Page 17 of Don't Call Me Daddy
His jaw is sharp and peppered in the faintest day-old stubble, like he was too tired to shave when he got up for work this morning, and his wavy brown hair is styled to perfection. He’s got his white button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing thick, corded forearms that are almost too indecent to be waving around without any warning. The faintest dusting of chest hair peeks out where he’s loosened his tie and the top button of his dress shirt, and my fingers itch to touch it.
I consider myself to be a fairly confident woman, but I’ve never felt more out of my league than standing next to this extremelygrownman.
He’s got to be at least ten years older than me, and judging by his fancy car and tailored clothing, he’s clearly got his life together—unlike me.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. What did I come over here for again?
Oh yeah, the birthday-party gig …
“So … I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re in need of a performer for a birthday party?” My voice pitches up an octave making it come out more like a question.
Why does this guy make me so nervous? Probably the suit or the scowl, or maybe it’s the glare he’s shooting in my direction with his one good eye.
“You’re a magician?” He quirks a brow, then takes another bite of his noodles.
“Well, no. More like an opportunist,” I say with my best charming smile. “I’m in need of work, and I have a large enough skill set to do just about anything decently enough.”
He shakes his head and almost smiles. “Why am I not surprised by that?” He goes back to eating his lunch, then pauses. “Sorry, but I don’t think you’re what my brother has in mind. Maybe check out the job boards posted around town, or better yet, keep driving east until you hit some bigger cities.”
I nervously twirl my sister’s ring around my finger, my eyes falling in defeat.
Silence spans between us, and when I look up, I expect to find him wearing a look of sympathy or even concern. Instead, his face is flushed bright red and sweaty.
He coughs several times into the crook of his elbow.
“Uh … are you okay? Do you need some water or something?”
He waves me away and holds up his water bottle, but continues coughing. When he pulls away, I notice the bright red stain of blood on his pressed white dress shirt.
My eyes go wide. “Are you sure? Because it doesn’t look like it,” I say as I point out the blood.
He jerks back in surprise and goes into another coughing fit, groaning and holding his stomach. The noodles drop to the ground, and I look around in panic, but there’s no one here but me.
“Call … 9 … 1 … 1 …” he croaks out.
Oh shit. Okay. I can do this.
I look around to assess my surroundings and see my car parallel parked just a few feet away.
“Come on. My car’s right here. I can get you to the hospital faster than an ambulance anyway.”
I tug him up, but he pulls away and shakes his head.
“No way. I’ve seen the way you drive. Just call an ambulance.” He shrugs me off, then groans again as he doubles over, a streak of blood at the corner of his mouth.
“Stop being such a baby and come on. I promise I’ll drive safely, but you’re wasting time here.” I pull him up again, and this time, he relents.
I lead us to my car, and it’s only when I’m opening his door that I remember all the shit I’ve got stowed in here. This guy’s got to be at least six-three, maybe even six-four.
I shove the passenger seat back as far as possible, tossing piles of books and a box of my bathroom things loosely in the back seat, carefully unbuckling Fern’s ashes and moving them to the box.
“Sorry about the mess.” I help him into the seat, bending his legs before tucking them inside.
It’s almost comical the way his knees stick up like he’s completely folded in half. If this wasn’t a medical emergency,I’m sure we’d both laugh at the absurdity of how crammed he looks right now—well, maybe not him, but I sure would.
I run around to my side and slam the door behind me, throwing the car in drive. My tires squeal as I peel out, the smell of burned rubber filling the air. So much for my new tires.
We fly down the narrow city street. Luckily, the hospital is close enough to see from here, and thanks to Dan’s tour this morning, I’ve gotten well enough acquainted with the town.
