Page 28 of Wrong Number

I honestly didn’t even know my dad.

When my father tried to weasel his way back into my life two years ago, I wanted nothing to do with him. Yet I felt that hearing him out was the right thing to do.

Luckily, I had the sense to meet him at a coffee shop instead of my apartment. He had shown up at one in the afternoon smelling like cheap bourbon, with a weird shifty look in his bloodshot eyes.

At first, it seemed relatively innocent, as he asked me all about my workplace, and how I was doing. But it soon became clear that he was simply looking for more construction work. I wasn’t his daughter, I was a potential job source. A lead.

It was positively disgusting, and I hadn’t met with him again. But since I had inadvertently mentioned the optometrist where I worked, he would call the office from time to time, asking if we, or anyone else in the medical plaza, might need renovations.

I always got him off the line in seconds before anyone overheard our conversations. It was a horrible, nasty little thing I just had to deal with. Then he’d ignore me for six months or so.

The last few times he’d called, he was slurring slightly, and the volume of his voice came and went as if the phone was waving around near his mouth. Day drinking on vacation is a blast, but it was tragic hearing him loaded at eleven in the morning.

It was pathetic. I was embarrassed for him. But after hearing that he was doing underhanded things to other people’s companies, I was truly disgusted.

Taking my tea back out to my desk, I rushed over to hold the door for Mrs. Rose, then sat with her for the five minutes before her appointment, looking at photos of her three-year-old granddaughter holding a new kitten.

“Wow, that is absolutely adorable,” I smiled.

“See, dear, this is why I need to get my eyes checked,” she said. “I don’t want to miss a single minute of her cuteness when we visit.”

She patted my knee as we laughed, and I almost didn’t hear my phone beeping at my desk.

“It’s okay, honey, you can go get that if you need to,” she said. I hesitated, and she gave my shoulder a little shove. “I can tell from your expression it’s a boy. I’m fine. Go get him.”

Reaching over the counter, I grabbed my phone. “Tana, sweetheart, I’ve missed you,” Tyler said before I could even get it to my ear properly.

“Hello,” I said. “Yes, absolutely.”

“You have a client standing right beside you, don’t you?” he chuckled.

“Yes, that’s an excellent observation,” I said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick. I’m really sorry I haven’t called. It’s been a crazy couple of days. But if you like, I could drive you home tonight. Will you be done at five-thirty?”

“Yes, that would be perfect.”

“Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart,” he said.

“You too.”

I ended the call and turned back to see Mrs. Rose barely holding back a smirk. “So? Do you have a date?”

I forced myself to hold back my crazy grin, but I’m sure I just looked like my lips were twitching. I heard the examination room door open and glanced to see Tony nodding and giving me a wave.

“The doctor will see you now,” I said.

She stood up slowly, shooting me a wink on the way by. “Good for you, Tana,” she said with a grin.

The rest of the day flew by, and as we locked up the clinic and turned toward the parking lot, I saw a giant white truck across the road. It was the kind that most people rented when they moved, nearly as big as a transport.

Dr. Brannigan said good night and headed to his car, just as Tyler jumped out of the truck and came running toward me. “I’m technically not allowed to park there, so let me help you in,” he said.

I knew that he was a helpful gentleman, so I was certain that his hands all over my hips, butt, and thighs as he half lifted me up into the seat was completely for my own safety.

He ran around and hopped in, then began driving with the confident air of someone who had been driving giant vehicles like this for years.

“Nice wheels,” I laughed.

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