I followed the tail lights of Harlyn’s car ‘til we got to the far side of town, and she pulled into the driveway of a duplex. I slowly drove by, and she stuck her hand out the window, waving.
“Take me home, Grain. I’m tired. You can drive by the chick’s house fifty times tomorrow.” Frankie smothered a yawn with the back of her hand. “You have her number. Call her.”
I headed back to the other side of Leeds Square to the house Frankie, Jay, and I shared.
My phone dinged when I shifted into park.
“He’s all yours,” Frankie muttered. “I’m not dealing with his drunk ass anymore tonight.” She got out of the car, leaving her door wide open, and walked into the house.
Jay snored noisily in the backseat, and I pulled my phone out to see Harlyn had messaged me.
Thank you. Have a good night.
“I’ll have three more puppies,” Jay slurred from the backseat.
Lord, help me. I needed to get his drunken ass out of my car before his ten shots caught up with him and he emptied the contents of his stomach on my leather seats.
You’re welcome. Sweet dreams, pretty girl.
Jay moaned from the backseat, and I closed my eyes.
This was going to be a long night.
*
Chapter 4
Harlyn
“Why didn’t you call me when you got in last night?”
I looked around the various boxes in the kitchen, trying to decide which one was keeping my coffee pot from me.
“Harlyn, are you listening to me?”
I rolled my eyes and decided to go with the box closest to me. I sandwiched the phone between my ear and shoulder. “Yes, Dad. I hear you. I didn’t call because, by the time I got into the duplex, all I wanted to do was fall into bed.”
“Why did you get in so late?”
I crouched down next to the box and folded back the flaps. “Because my junky car battery decided to stop working. She died on the side of the road about ten miles from Leeds Square.”
“Why the hell didn't you call me?” he demanded. Demanding things was one of my dad’s fortes.
“Because it was late, and a couple of people stopped to help me. There wasn’t any point in calling you after they stopped.”
“Dammit, Harlyn. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”
Serial killer. “Yeah, I thought about that, Dad, but I was fine.” The box I opened had all my silverware and three pots in it.
“Next time, call me, okay?”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the box behind the one I had just opened. “Aye, aye, captain.”
“You think I’m kidding, Harlyn, but I’m not. I don’t care what time of day it is, you call me if you need help.”
“All right, all right.” I opened the second box, and the glorious coffee maker was nestled in a sea of crumpled paper.
“You coming in today?”
I hoisted the coffee maker out of the box. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on it. I wanted to get my place set up.”
“Good, good. There isn’t much for you to do right now. Marion still has three weeks before she goes on maternity leave, so you’ll have plenty of time to get the gist of everything with the crew and paperwork.”
“With the crew?” I asked. “I thought I just took care of payroll and paying bills.” I set the coffee maker on the counter and plugged it in. Now I just needed to find the canister of coffee.
“You are doing that, but you’re kind of going to be dealing with everything in the office.”
Just like my dad not to tell me all of the details. “What exactly is everything?”
“The team has only been around for a couple of years, and we’re still growing. So, you’ll need to help coordinate travel, and other things.”
I sighed and looked at the sea of boxes in my kitchen. “I need coffee and to unpack my stuff. I can’t think about the job you bamboozled me into right now.”
“There isn’t anything I know you can’t do, Harlyn. Before you know it, it won’t even feel like work.”
“You could sell a Bible to God,” I mumbled. The man had a way with words; he could talk you into doing anything.
“Be at the office Monday. That’ll give you Friday and the weekend to get settled before you have to get into the swing of things at the office. Besides, I’ll be gone for two weeks.”
I closed my eyes. Of course he was going to be gone for two weeks. The man was never around when I needed him. I didn’t know why I thought this was going to be different than any other time he had let me down. “So I won’t see you for a while.”
“Planned on making sure everything was going good here, and then I was gonna come over for dinner.”
That was a surprise. “Tonight?”
“That okay with you?”
I glanced at my kitchen table buried under tens of boxes. I was really going to have to make a dent in unpacking everything. “Sounds good to me.”
“I’ll be over around six.”
He disconnected the call, and I tossed my phone on the counter.
My dad actually making an effort to spend time with me was something I wasn’t used to. For as long as I could remember, he always chose his work over spending time with me or my mom. That was the main reason he wasn’t married to my mom anymore. Absence didn’t always make the heart grow fonder. For my mom, it made her hate him and move on to a man who actually wanted to see her more than once a month.
My phone dinged. I was surprised to see it was Remy and not my dad canceling dinner tonight.
Morning.
I leaned against the counter, forgetting I needed to find the coffee. Hello, stranger.
I’m not really a stranger. I’ve been under your hood.
Oh, Lord. So you have…
That sounded way more perverted than it did in my head.
If that wasn’t the truth. I’ll ignore it this time.
I waited a full minute before he texted again. How’s your day going?
Trying to unpack and find the coffee. What about you?
Working and then we leave town early in the morning tomorrow for a couple of weeks.
Jesus. Everyone seemed to have jobs that took them out of town. Cool. I had no idea what else to say. I was awkward at best on a good day. Otherwise, I was just a straight-up goober.
You good with me texting you while I’m gone. Maybe even call you?
I had given him my phone number. I figured that was me giving him permission to call or text me. Sure.
Okay. I gotta run, but I just wanted to see how your day was going.
It had suddenly gotten better since he had texted me. It’s going good now.
Talk to you later, babe.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Who got butterflies at the age of twenty-seven? Apparently you, Harlyn.
I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. A few text messages didn’t mean much. I wasn’t going to even start thinking about what it could mean that he wanted to call me. Find coffee, unpack your boxes, and have dinner with your dad. Those were the things I needed to focus on.
Not Remy, and definitely not his gorgeous green eyes.
*
Chapter 5