Page 22 of Daddy's Best Friend

I slid the door shut behind me and stepped into the chilly room. “I was checking on Ella. I heard you race off. What the hell happened?”

Turning the tables on him was the only way I knew to keep him from asking too many questions. I hadn’t even known he was home; he must have slipped in quietly while I was otherwise occupied. I was just thankful he hadn’t walked in on us. We hadn’t even shut the door to the guest house.

“Nothing. We horsed around a bit, and she got pissed at me. So, I took a drive, went to buy an energy drink. She’s a real piece of work, you know?” He shook his head and picked up the colorful can that sat in front of him and sipped from in.

“How so?” Irritated, I headed for the cupboard and got out a glass so I could get some water. I filled my cup with ice and water from the fridge as he continued.

“She is such a party brat every weekend, getting shitfaced, and she can’t even give me a little action. Like, sure there aren’t pictures of her being sexual on the internet the way they portray her drinking, but I know she has to be out there fucking guys. Like, what woman gets wasted like that, dressed like that, and doesn’t hook up now and then? And what’s wrong with me? We know each other.”

It sounded to me like Trevor was feeling insulted and rejected, and as a father, I wanted to console him, but as Ella’s protector I laid down the law.

“Let me make this very clear to you, Trevor. You stay the hell away from Ella Vance. Do you hear me?” I glared at him and pointed my free hand at his chest.

“What the fuck is it any concern of yours?” His hateful question threw guilty daggers at my heart.

“I made a promise to her father, that’s what. Now stay away from her.” I turned and left the kitchen, taking my water with me. If only it were a large glass of whiskey to temper the raging shame I felt. What the hell would Todd think?

17

ELLA

After checking the formulae at least three times, I had to walk away. The numbers I had in accounts receivable did not match the numbers that had been tracked by the software. I had made a crucial mistake and I was flustered trying to figure out what mistake and where it was. I paced the office, watching the cars on the street below.

I had been doing this job for 10 weeks now, and I had the hang of everything. I had even done this particular job a few times—actuating accounts and running reports. I hadn’t even struggled the first few times I had done this, so I didn’t know why it was causing me so many problems this time. All I knew was I was frustrated.

Alan knew how to do this, and as much as it pained me to let him think I was incapable of doing this job, I needed help. I learned from my father at a very early age that asking for help when something as difficult was much better than trying to go it alone and failing.

So I headed out of my office toward his. The walk of shame took its toll on me, hammering me with shame, but I didn’t letit slow me down. My black pumps clicked on the tile floor. As I approached Alan’s office, Heather looked up at me from behind her cat’s-eyeglasses. She watched me stroll up to his door and said nothing until I knocked and put my hand on the doorknob.

“He’s down the hall with the board. Won’t be back for at least another hour.” Her dry tone relayed her annoyance with my visit. She never had appreciated me, even when I was the hero for divulging tidbits of personal information about him. When someone let it leak that he brought me to work every day now, Heather had gone from mildly irritated to downright hostile at times.

“Fuck.” I leaned against the door, pressing my forehead to the cool wood. Alan would expect the report before I left work today, and my plan had been to go to Mom and Dad’s house for dinner with them. Dad had pretty much demanded I come talk to him about why I was living with Alan. I’d made the decision to collect the rest of my things from my bedroom there, because I really didn’t see myself ever leaving Alan’s place.

This work frustration only added to my already super-charged emotions. For days I had been irrationally moody. When Alan suggested I cut back on caffeine to lower my stress level—this morning while we drove to work—I snapped at him. I felt stuck and in over my head, and that confident part of me that had wanted Alan to hire me full time had vanished. I wasn’t ready for this.

“Can I help you?” Heather didn’t move to come my direction, and I had almost forgotten she was sitting there staring at me. I took a breath to collect myself and shrugged my shoulders. Terry was gone on maternity leave; Rene still had at least a week before she came back, and my brain wouldn’t cooperate to think straight. I looked at Heather.

“You know anything about spreadsheets?” With my forehead still pressed against the door, I waited for her to respond.

Heather stood and walked my way. She had a triumphant look in her eye that screamed “I’m going to fix this.” I didn’t know whether to feel encouraged by her confidence or irritated that she knew more than me.

“I know a little. Show me the problem.”

As she walked up to me, I gestured and led her back down the hall to my office. I didn’t even bother sitting behind the desk. I pointed at the chair and scowled. “It’s impossible. You’ll see on the tab there that the numbers for the report should total up to this.” I pointed to the totals from the deposit ledger. “But what we have is this mess.” I reached for the mouse and clicked over the spreadsheet, drawing up the report I was working on that had all the mistakes.

Heather slumped into the seat. Her fingers traced down the computer screen, then she clicked around with the mouse a little. I couldn’t watch her. At this point the report just needed to be finished, but all I could do was bite my nail and then swear at myself for ruining my manicure. My eyes nervously scanned the screen, watching every single thing she did.

When she turned to me and frowned, I burst out crying. I didn’t know why my anxiety was so high. I didn’t even know if it was anxiety or what it was. I just knew I couldn’t let Alan down and the report was going to be late at the very least. My shoulders shook; I covered my face with my hands and tried to hide, but Heather was there. There was no hiding from her.

I heard the chair squeak and then felt her hands on my shoulders. “Hey, you’re new to all of this still. You’ll figure it out, and if you don’t Alan will help. Did you think of calling Rene?”

I shook my head. Rene was the enemy. She was the reason why Alan wouldn’t hire me full time. If I went to her for help, it only showed I wasn’t capable, and I didn’t want him to think of me like that.

“Okay, well maybe we should call her. It might even make her feel like she’s still part of the team. She’s set to come back in like 10 days, so it will help her get acquainted with what has happened while she’s been out.” Heather’s hands felt more like talons than comfort. What the hell was wrong with me?

I uncovered my face and wiped the tears from my eyes. “I feel stupid. I know how to do this better than anyone. Why can’t I get it right?”

Heather clicked her tongue and pulled me in for a hug. It was awkward and stiff, the way it feels when your mother’s aunt whom you’ve never met hugs you like you’re her favorite. Heather patted my back and cooed like I was a baby.

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