Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES
DAHLIA
It was so hard to leave Dylan in bed this morning.
What’s craziest about all of this is how natural it felt to spend the night with a man I’d just met.
We had sex five times in less than twenty-four hours.
I lost count of all the orgasms. I should be exhausted, but I feel more aware and awake than ever.
I float all the way to my condo, where I get ready before driving to work.
The sex isn’t the only thing that has me floating.
Dylan is funny and smart and so interested in everything I have to say.
I’m not used to men who want to hear me.
Look at me and lust after me, yes, I know that well.
But Dylan and I talked for hours, between and during sex, and it seems like he just wants to know more.
He also said the L-word, which I didn’t take seriously, since he was inside me when he said it. Everyone knows that doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure he was just being playful about how good everything felt. But I appreciated how he didn’t try to take it back, once we were lying face to face.
I school my expression into what I’m sure is still a blissed-out look as I walk into the office. Nicole would eat me for lunch if she caught sight of any joy on my face. She has a way of finding my buttons and pounding on them like a Whac-A-Mole.
“Your father asked that you come to his office right away,” she says.
“Okay, will do.”
She sniffs and gives me a once-over, and I’m too happy to care.
My dad goes through personal assistants with rapid-fire precision.
I suspect he dates the women and then gives them a job, but it could also be that he hires them knowing he wants to date them.
Either way, they don’t last long. Nicole is my dad’s latest, and for some reason, she thinks we’re in competition for his time.
Long before Nicole was in the picture, I’d learned that I wasn’t high on my dad’s list of priorities.
Nicole’s in this competition alone because I no longer feel the need to get my dad’s attention at all costs.
I’d much rather keep the peace. I come to work, focus on the job, and leave everything at the office, knowing it’s the closest I can get to having a relationship with my father.
It’s not the worst relationship in the world.
He’s provided for me financially my whole life—as an adult, in the form of a job.
That’s a lot more than some can say about their fathers.
His emotional deficiency notwithstanding, I’m grateful for what he is capable of giving.
I stop in my office long enough to hang my coat and put my purse away before heading to my dad’s office.
He’s on the phone, and I freeze when I hear his tone.
“I will make sure you never make another penny in this industry again. You’ve messed with the wrong man,” he says between clenched teeth.
The blood drains from my face. There are two sides to my dad: one who smiles at my daughter when we go to dinner, makes sure I’ve rotated my tires, and gives me advice about investing, and then the one who guilts me for not spending enough time with him, is cutthroat in business, and is very manipulative.
There are times I feel I don’t know him at all.
And then he’ll be so sweet that I second-guess myself for ever questioning him.
“You’re late,” he barks after he hangs up.
I glance at my watch in confusion. “It’s 7:45. I usually begin at 8. From home.”
“So you say. You know I’d like to see you in the office more often.”
“Dad, we agreed that I only come in a couple of times a week. I’m getting my work done.”
“We need to revisit this. I’ve been here since 6:30.”
“Okay.” I wait for him to finish that thought, but I guess that was it. “What did you need?”
“I want you to take your job more seriously. There are plenty of people who’d kill to have your position, and you just skate by because you’re my daughter.”
That stings, but I don’t react. “Am I doing unsatisfactory work? In last month’s review with Melvin, he said I was doing an exceptional job. Not only are we saving in the areas I recommended cutting back, but I’m doing the job of what used to be three people.”
My dad scoffs. “Melvin has always spoiled you.”
“What can I do to make you happier, Dad?” I shift on my feet, trying to maintain my posture when everything inside wants to wilt.
You are strong. You are smart. You are kind.
“For starters, you can be here instead of gallivanting across the country whenever you feel like it.”
“I’ve only taken four of my vacation days this year, Dad, and the year is almost over. I had to take Chloe to Christian’s—there was no way around that.”
“Do you know how many days I took off when I was starting this business?” He puts his fingers together in the shape of a zero. “That’s how many. You don’t get to the top of real estate or anything else in life by doing the bare minimum.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Withdraw the latest proposal to the Peters group and remove them from everything.”
“But Dad, that’s not right. They’ve done so much for—“
“They said disgusting things about us in the last meeting. I’ll make sure they lose everything. They’ll never work in this town again.”
I stare at him in shock. “You can’t possibly mean that. Take a breath. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
“You know I’m paying you more than you could get anywhere else. It could all go just like that.” He snaps.
And there…that’s where he has me under his thumb.
Because he’s right. I’m making more working for him than I would as an accountant anywhere else in Minnesota.
Maybe I could make more elsewhere, but I want to live close to my mom, and this is my home.
I make enough to afford a nice condo and to save each month for Chloe’s future.
I’m not frivolous with my income, but I’m comfortable, and that keeps me peaceful.
I’m aware that I could lose it in an instant, if Dad chose to make good on his occasional threats.
I’m never quite sure how far he’d go. So I stay, and I suck it up.
“Yes, Dad. Thank you. I’m grateful for my job.”
My phone rings, and it’s the ring I have set for Christian while Chloe’s with him.
I pull it out of my pocket, ignoring my dad’s huff. “It’s Christian,” I say. “Something must be wrong for him to be calling this early.”
“If you’d just stayed with him, you wouldn’t be in this mess—” my dad says as I leave his office.
“Hello? Is everything—”
“Mama,” Chloe cries. “Mama, I want you.”
“Baby girl, take a breath. What’s wrong?” I rush to my office and close the door, my heart pattering against my rib cage.
She sobs. “I. Want. You. Come back, pease, Mama.”
She talks so clearly, except for her L’s. I’m in no rush to hear her fix it.
My tears are instant just hearing hers. “I’ll be there. Okay, baby? Mama has to get on an airplane, but I’ll be there. Do you—”
“Do not come,” Christian says. “I told her she could call you, hoping it would calm her down, but it just made it worse. She’s fine.”
“She doesn’t sound fine, Christian. I told her I’d come, and I’m not going back on my word. I’ll get the first flight out that I can.”
Chloe continues to wail in the background.
“How long has she been like this?” I ask, knowing that if he let her call, it hasn’t been good.
He hesitates. “She’s cried off and on since you left.”
“I’m coming. It was too much to expect her to just automatically adjust.”
“You can’t keep me from my daughter.”
“I’m not. She’s there right now, isn’t she? But we can work our way up to longer stretches. I’ll bring her back.”
“We have plans tonight, so don’t come until tomorrow…evening, at the earliest. And I want her back for New Year’s Eve. My parents will be in town. They want to get to know her too.”
That’s a first.
Christian’s mom, Helena, is one of those women who isn’t ready to be a grandma because that would make her old; therefore, she’s refused to accept that she is one.
I’m so happy I’ll see Chloe tomorrow night—and that Christian didn’t ask for Christmas—that I don’t mind taking her back for New Year’s Eve.
“Okay, I can do that. Two nights, and I’ll stay in town.”
He sighs. “Whatever, Dahlia. You know she has to get used to this. You coming as soon as she calls is not going to help.”
Chloe’s crying hasn’t stopped.
“I’m coming to get her, Christian. I’ll text when I get in later, and please let me know the earliest I can pick her up. If she’s still crying like this, I’m getting her tonight.”
I hang up, my hands shaking as I type the airline’s website. Thank God for frequent flyer miles. I find a flight that leaves in four hours. That’s doable.
And then I put my coat on, grab my purse, and go to my dad’s office. This won’t be fun, but it’s gotta be done.
I knock twice, and when he says to come in, I open the door and step in. He blinks when he sees me standing there.
“I need to go get Chloe. I’ll take my work with me and be back in three days.”
“Unbelievable,” he says. “What did we just talk about this morning?”
“I can’t ignore my daughter, Dad. What would you have me do instead? I’ll give Melvin a call. He’ll be able to cover everything.”
“Chloe is fine.” He waves his hand dismissively. “You chose to leave Christian, so you have to deal with the consequences. He can take care of her for a few days. If you’re ever going to move up in the company, you’ll need to make some sacrifices.”
“I’m not willing to sacrifice my daughter, and you shouldn’t expect me to. She’s your granddaughter. I wish just once you’d show that you care about her.”
We stare at each other for a few long seconds before I turn on my heels and walk away.
I’ve barely been home for two seconds when I get a text from Dylan.
Dylan
I haven’t stopped smiling. I hope you’re not too exhausted. Dinner later to make up for keeping you up all night?
I smile in spite of myself.
I have to go to California in a few hours. Chloe called crying so hard, and Christian said she’s been like that since I left.
The phone rings, and it’s Dylan. “Are you okay?” he asks immediately.
“Not really. My dad is being difficult about me missing work, and Christian doesn’t want me to come, but I can’t just leave her out there like that when she’s so upset.”
“What can I do to help?”
I’m so taken aback by his question, I stutter when I respond. “Y-you don’t need to do anything, but it means a lot that you asked. I just need to pack and book a room in a hurry.”
“Let me fly back with you, and you can stay at my place.”
“Oh. You really don’t have to do that.” I pause from pulling underwear out of my drawer.
“I’d feel better about the whole thing. I’m sure you’d be fine, but remember what happened the last time you were upset and flew? I’d really like to go with you. I’ll stay out of the way or be there for you as much as you want.”
“But what about going to see your family?”
“Only one of my brothers knew I was coming, and I’ll call him as soon as we hang up. I’ll tell him I need to check on things at the shop, which is true. The rest of my family aren’t expecting me for another few days…”
“I’m…speechless. Thank you, Dylan.” I let out a shaky breath, and my voice cracks when I say, “That does sound nice, actually. I think I could use a friend. It’s been a shitty hour.”
“Consider it done. What time is your flight?”
I give him my flight details and tell him I’ll pick him up.
It’ll be easier if I just park at the airport since it’s only a couple of days, and I’ll have Chloe’s car seat.
We hang up so he can book his flight. As I swap out the dirty clothes in my suitcase for clean ones, it sets in what he’s doing for me.
I almost call him back to tell him I can’t let him do this, but by the time I’ve reached this decision, he’s probably already booked his flight.
So I leave it. I don’t think even my closest friends would do this for me.
I had more “friends” before I had Chloe, but my surprise pregnancy with a guy a decade older than me quickly culled the friend list. To their credit, some have loosely stuck around, but our lives are so different now.
We don’t have anything in common anymore.
Since I was already mostly packed, I’m back at Dylan’s house earlier than I expected to be. He opens the door shirtless and grins when he sees me, tugging my hand until I’m inside.
“It’s good to see you,” he says.
“Bet you didn’t think it’d be so soon.”
“I couldn’t have dared hope, but I’m so happy about it.” He holds up his hand. “Not the circumstances, but the outcome.”
I smile back at him. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Are you kidding? I’m excited to have you at my house. I can’t wait for you to meet Bill…and I really can’t wait to meet Chloe…if you’ll let me, that is…” He makes a face.
“I’m okay with you meeting her.” I surprise myself by saying that, but once it’s out, I feel good about it. My head tilts. “Who is Bill?”
“Oh my God. Have I really not brought up Bill before now? He’s become my BFF.” He laughs and picks up his phone, holding it up for me to see.
It’s a picture of an adorable dog.
“Oh my goodness!”
“He found his way to me, and I don’t know how I survived without him. He’s a mini dachshund.”
“He’s so cute. I’ve never seen one like that. His eyes are so pretty!”
“I hadn’t seen one like him before either. He’s a brown and tan merle,” he says proudly.
“Named Bill.” I laugh. “Not what I’d expect, but then everything about you is unexpected.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He leans over and kisses my cheek and lifts his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll finish up and we can be on our way. Grab a drink or whatever you need.”
I nod. “I think I’ll grab some water.”
He squeezes my waist and goes upstairs. I wander toward his kitchen and take a different hallway that I haven’t been down. This house is huge—I don’t even know how many rooms there are.
I come across a library that stops me in my tracks.
I can’t resist going inside. Three of the walls have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and then on the fourth is a picture wall.
I stop and stare at the pictures, smiling as I pick out Dylan from all his siblings.
His family is beautiful, and I go down the row of pictures, coming to a stop when I see a picture of his whole family.
I frown when I see his parents. There’s something familiar about them.
“You found my favorite room.”
I jump when I hear Dylan’s voice and I turn, clutching my hand to my throat.
“It’s beautiful. Dylan…your parents…they look so familiar. And I realized…this is crazy. I don’t even know your last name.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re right. Did we really not ever say our last names? I could’ve sworn I said, but yeah, I have no idea what your last name is. I guess we’ve been preoccupied with other things.” His eyes crinkle with his smile.
“Granger. Dahlia Granger.”
His mouth drops. “Whitman. Dylan Whitman.”
“Oh, shit,” we say at the same time.