Page 42 of Razor
“Al Reynolds is no longer with the company. After HR received your email documentation of harassment and mismanagement, they contacted me. That was the final straw in a long line of negative reports about your former boss. They are reviewing all the pay deductions noted, and those monies will be returned to you with additional funds for interest.”
“That’s very generous, sir,” she said, a tremor in her voice as she tried to digest his words. Thomas Hendrick had fired his own son-in-law?
“In talking to everyone you’ve worked with over the years, I’ve learned you are the reason for any profits coming from that office. I’d like to offer you the position that is now open as the head of the department along with a sizeable raise to match the increased responsibilities I gather you are already handling.”
“I…. I don’t know what to say, Mr. Hendrick.”
“Say you’ll take the new position. I’d like you to take two weeks off to rest your injuries. Paid, of course.”
“I’ve already used some of my vacation days this year, sir,” Honey admitted.
“This is not coming out of your leave, Ms. Rhoades. Can we make an appointment to meet?” he asked, naming the Monday two weeks away.
“I think I’d like that,” Honey agreed.
A few minutes later, she stared at the quiet phone in her hands. What just happened? She glanced over at Beatrice and picked up the stuffie that had slid onto the seat next to her. “Did you hear that?”
The bee’s dark eyes stared back at her. Honey guessed Beatrice was as stumped by the recent turn of events as she was. “Let’s call Daddy.”
A couple of hours later, Razor drove a spare motorcycle from Lucien’s fleet into the compound, nodding to Menace as he passed. He’d left his beloved bike at the Devil Daddies’ shop for some revamping. Changing his bike from a one-man ride to a vehicle that could transport Honey as well had become a priority. In a few days, he’d have it back.
Pulling into his driveway, Razor parked the fast-but-slightly-battered bike in the garage. Home sweet home. Razor laughed as he stripped off his helmet. Funny how this cabin now felt like home instead of only a place to sleep. Grinning, he unstrapped the cake he had grabbed from Inferno’s kitchen for their celebration.
He opened the kitchen door, expecting to see Honey settled on the couch where he had left her. To his surprise, the room was empty. Razor set the cake on the coffee table and followed the faint sound of off-key singing coming from down the hallway.
Quietly turning the knob on the closed bathroom door, Razor had an inkling his Little girl had gotten herself into big trouble. Careful to keep his expression solemn, he took in the scene before him as she scrambled to sweep bubbles to her chest. “How did you settle into the tub, Little girl?”
“Carefully?”
“Not a good answer,” he said, lowering himself to his knees next to the tub. “I would have helped you take a bath if you’d wanted one.”
“Razor….”
“Daddy,” he interrupted.
“Daddy, I have to do things myself. What if I can’t climb in here in the future? I want to enjoy everything I can.”
He stared at her beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Honey. Daddies make mistakes too. I hope I can always count on you cluing me in when I screw up.”
She raised the soft sponge he’d set earlier on the edge of the tub and offered it to him. “Maybe you could help me now? I never can get my back.”
Razor nodded and accepted it. “I would love to, Little girl.” Dipping it into the water, he stroked the wet cloth over her skin.
“That’s so good, Daddy.”
“I’m glad. Did you hurt yourself sliding into the tub?”
“No. I wheeled in here, sat on the side, and swung my legs over one at a time. The warm water soothes my ankle.”
“That was a smart way to do it. Did you think about hauling yourself out of the bathtub?” he asked.
Her expression changed, revealing the thoughts racing through her mind. She hadn’t planned that far ahead. “You could help me out?”
“Of course, I will.”
Razor finished her back and stroked the washcloth over her shoulder. He lifted her hand out of the water and washed her arm and hand. Honey moaned at the delightful feel of his fingers massaging hers. He seemed to sense exactly where her tension coiled.
“That’s amazing, Daddy. I’d pay money for a hand treatment like this.”
