Page 19 of Captivated By You

Lucky for Mom, she’d met Owen, and he’d adopted the three of us and was the most amazing dad a girl could wish for. Yet the mere mention of my birth father still held the power to bring a bunch of negative feelings rushing to the surface.

Before Mom could try to defend him, as she often did, my phone rang.Saved by the bell. Literally.

“Hello.”

“Miss Doherty?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Gillian Jackson. I’m calling from Kingcaid Hotels.”

I widened my eyes at Mom and mouthed, “It’s the hotel.”

“H-hello.” Mom plastered her head to mine, and I angled the phone so she could hear.

“Hi. I just received your rejection of our offer for the intern position. May I ask why?”

Just great. I could hardly tell her the real reason. I mean, Icould, but I didn’t want to. So I decided on a half-truth.

“I wasn’t sure the manager and I would get along, and while I’m in training, I feel it’s important to have a rapport with the person who’ll be my mentor.”

Go me. Spoken like a true professional. Mom gave me the thumbs-up together with a goofy grin. I tried not to laugh.

“Mr. Forster is no longer employed by the company.”

My jaw slackened. Say what now?

“Why?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, I’m afraid. It’s confidential. I wonder, though, does that change things?”

Mom nodded so vigorously I feared her head would fall off.

“Um… I’m not sure.”

I got a punch in the arm for that response. I rubbed my arm and glared at her.

“I have been authorized to increase the salary offered by five percent.”

Ohhh, interesting. I loved a bit of bartering. One of my favorite family holidays was when we’d traveled to Mexico a few years earlier. I’d had a fun time in Tijuana.

“Make it ten.”

“Deal. I’ll have the paperwork couriered over. Welcome to the team, Miss Doherty.”

She hung up, and I realized she’d played me.

Fucking hell, I could have gotten twenty.

* * *

Mom linked my arm and tugged me closer to her as we made our way through the busy Seattle streets. Two weeks had passed since I’d accepted the job offer with Kingcaid, and I still hadn’t found an apartment. As we made our way to view our fifth apartment of the day, I was losing hope of ever finding something suitable.

Thank goodness Mom wasn’t.

“I bet this is the one,” she said.

“Glad you’re still thinking positively. I’m seeing a cardboard box, an alleyway, and a blanket in my future.”

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