Page 5 of Obsessed with my Guardian

I startle at the soft knock on the door.

“Ready?” Reed asks as if he’s read my mind.

I exhale the tension consuming me. “Ready.”

Three days ago, we shared a moment in the kitchen. Hell, he told me things about him I’d never heard before. I thought we were closer and that our relationship would move forward more meaningfully. Silly me. Since then, he’s returned to the same distant guy, talking to me about safe subjects. Avoiding any physicality or personal talk.

I get it. Maybe he regrets saying all those things to me. But fuck it, I don’t regret hearing them.

He trusted me, and he hugged me. Like a naïve fool, I cling to that night like a slimy frog to a tree trunk.

Reed is wearing a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved gray shirt. The man is hot as fuck. Butterflies stampede in my tummy, making a stand.

“Let’s go,” he says without much fanfare.

We leave, and my father’s driver, Clark, is waiting for us with the town car. I still haven’t been able to fire him. A part of me enjoys having him around. He reminds me of Dad. A bald man in his sixties, he worked for my dad for twenty years, even before I was born.

Sadness fills my chest. Not many people have been there for us since my father’s illness. He had friends, yes, who called once in a while or sent gifts. My friends are supportive, especially my bestie, Tori, but they don’t get what it’s like to lose your only parent and become an orphan and an heiress in the same breath.

“We’re meeting with your dad’s lawyer, Mrs. Trevino, to go over a few things.”

I’ve met with Linda Trevino a few times already. She was there for the reading of the will, along with a couple of other times she checked on me. Today, it feels different—like everyone has been stepping on eggshells around me because of my loss, but now that a few months have gone by, it’s high time I made big decisions.

The drive is short and uneventful.

We walk past the entrance, and all eyes are on me the minute we step inside. The security guard nods. A couple of the front desk clerks greet me, realize they haven’t offered their condolences yet, and adopt a more somber tone.

When we get in the elevator, Reed touches the small of my back and leans in, asking, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lie.

I should have come here sooner, but I took the weeks after my father’s funeral to truly mourn him. I spent way too many days sleeping in from depression, watching old videos, and avoiding phone calls. It helped that he had no other living relatives so I could wallow without interruption.

It feels different to return to this place with him gone.

I may not have CEO experience, but I worked many shifts at the front desk and know the small details, like where the extra towels are stored in the back room. When my dad was diagnosed, he promoted me to assistant manager so I could shadow Brent, the general manager of this location. Dad thought he could beat cancer, but he also wanted me to learn as much as I could, as fast as I could, so my senior year was different than the others my age. Between school, taking care of a sick father, and working, I didn’t have time for much else.

Reed offers me his hand, and I take it. He gives it a squeeze. “You got this, Eloise.”

Do I? I toss him a skeptical glance. “I may be a liar, but so are you,” I say lightly, trying to dispel the tension.

He chuckles and squeezes my hand again. A shot of awareness that has nothing to do with grief surges up my arm. “Trust my words. You’re smart, care about people, and have business in your DNA. I know this is all overwhelming, but I mean it. You got this more than most people would,” he says, looking deep into my eyes.

He releases my hand, but his motivational speech stays with me. Sure, there’s a chance he’s saying all this because he wants me to get a CEO crash course, move out of my home and have a life of his own again.

We make it to the conference room and sit.

The assistant shows up with water and coffee, and Reed talks to her while I settle myself in a chair. I don’t pick the one at the end of the long oval, granite-top table. Doesn’t feel right yet.

Mrs. Trevino walks in. She worked with my dad for many years and has always been a serene presence in our lives. When I was younger, I fantasized that they’d date or get married. I guess I always had silly ideas about people finding their people.

Now, my dad will never be able to find anyone.

A wave of sadness moves through me again, but I take a deep breath and let it out slowly to recenter myself. Now is not the time for these thoughts. That’s not what Dad would have wanted.

“I’ve talked to Reed about you stepping in as the CEO,” Mrs. Trevino starts. “As you know, your father owned Work4Fitness completely, so no one will be fighting that decision.”

I nod.

---