Page 29 of When I Found You

Then I saw Dad. We formed a fast friendship right away, and he asked for my opinion several times over the next few days. I did what I could to help. It felt so good to spend time with him.

I tried not to stare or seek him out. After what Arthur insinuated last week, I did my best to contain my emotions around my father. Last thing I wanted was a misunderstanding, awkward as that would be. I wasn’t here to make trouble. A second chance dropped into my lap, and I am determined to enjoy all of it.

“Kate, I need you to take a letter for me,” Arthur calls from his open office.

Wrapped in nerves and anticipation, I grab my notepad and join him. When I walk into his office, I remember how his lips tasted, how hard he was for me. How he pushed me away. Taking the seat across from his, I’m keenly aware of his presence. I poise the pen over the paper.

“Ready.” I refuse to look up. If I meet his gaze right now, I may combust.

At his silence, I glance up to see if he heard me. His stare pins me to the leather chair, and I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. Then, as if nothing were amiss, he launches into dictating the letter.

I write quickly, but he slows enough for me to keep up. I wish I could type it in Word directly. My typing skills are faster than my makeshift shorthand. Another downside to the eighties, I guess.

When he finishes, I stand, ready to retreat back to my desk. The resignation in his voice stops me.

“Kate, you don’t have to run away from me.”

“I’m not running.” I fold my arms across my chest shielding my heart with the legal pad. “I have work to do, as do you.”

He scoffs but shakes it off. “Have you finished organizing the projects for the promotional packet I requested?”

“I’ll have it for you by the end of the day.” I tap my fingers on the pad. “Anything else I can do for you?”

The tick in his jaw is prominent even from ten feet away. He wants me to remain professional, and I will. Even if my whole body screams for his attention. I want his mouth on me again. I want more than I should and knowing I affect him as much as he affects me has my willpower burning to ash.

“No, that will be all.” He clears his throat. “Type this letter up for me to sign and then mail it before the end of the day.”

I nod, swallowing my disappointment, and retreat to my desk. As I begin to type the letter, Gladys waves from across the room. I stop clicking on the keys and return the gesture.

Within moments, she’s by my side. I pause midway through the letter.

“Did you hear the news?” Gladys squeals with excitement.

“What news?” I ask. Her energy seeps into me dispelling the lull left in the wake of my interaction with Arthur.

“Mr. Cohen’s wife is going to have a baby!” She dances around in a tiny circle. “Oh, I’m so excited for them.”

“That’s wonderful.” I choke out the words with a fake smile while my mind spins. Pregnant with me. My mom, pregnant with me. The whole situation is trippy as fuck.

“I found out while you were in the office with Mr. Maxwell. She told me the good news herself!” Gladys snatches a butterscotch candy from the bowl on my desk and unwraps it.

“Wait.” The room spins like a carnival ride, and I grip the chair to keep me steady. “She’s here. Now?”

Gladys pops the candy in her mouth and nods. “She’s in her husband’s office now. Brought him an afternoon snack. Isn’t she sweet? Those two are adorable together.” She sighs dramatically. “I hope I can find a love like theirs one day.”

My heart twists in my chest, pounding so loud I hear the repetitive beat pulsing in my skull. I stare at the door to Dad’s office. Two shadows move beyond the tinted glass. My parents. Behind that door. Together. I press my hand over my heart and breathe deep.

“You okay? You’re a little flushed?” Gladys eyes me with concern.

“Fine. Just heartburn. Lunch was too spicy I think.” I brush it off with little effort.

“I have some Alka Seltzer in my purse, if you need it.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks though, I appreciate it.” I smile. “I should finish this. Needs to go out today.”

Gladys nods. “Don’t work too hard. No reason to let him work you into the ground.”

Once she retreats, I focus on the letter. But my mind drifts back to the office where I know my parents are talking. On the last line, I type out Arthur’s name and leave room for a signature before reading through the letter for any errors. As I pull it from the machine, Dad’s office door opens.

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