Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
My heart sank as I sat next to Mom and flipped through the stack of bills in front of her.
“How much do we need for the mortgage?”
“I’m behind three payments. If I don’t pay in full, they might foreclose. I was thinking of going to the bank with this proposal.”
She slid another sheet of paper toward me.
It detailed a payment plan to bring the mortgage current.
A second sheet showed how she was juggling all the bills to ensure we’d have water and electricity.
We were on the verge of losing everything, but the sheet did show there was hope.
It would take three months of zero spending to achieve, though, which explained the lack of food in the house.
My phone, which I’d carried with me, started to ring.
“Sperm donor?” Mom asked, looking at it.
“I told him not to show up here anymore,” I said.
“That’s your father?”
“I don’t have a father. Just the donor who helped make me.”
She glanced at the phone as it went to voicemail.
“You can talk to him, you know. It won’t upset me.”
“It should. He destroyed the life you built together, and look at what he left you with.” I flipped through the bills again.
“Those aren’t his fault,” she said. “I’ve just had some rotten luck with jobs lately. It’s the economy.”
“Seriously? Mom, if he hadn’t taken everything from you when he left, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“He didn’t take everything. I kept three percent of the shares.” She looked away because we both knew she’d gradually sold those shares back to him, each time she lost a job and had to supplement the bills—like now.
“Why do you keep defending him? You don’t actually still love him, do you?”
Mom looked at me, her expression both sad and compassionate. “Do you know why I think you should talk to your father? He has the connections I don’t. He can help you in the future when I might not have the means.”
“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on a thousand end tables than ever go to that man, looking for any kind of help.”
She cracked a smile, as I’d hoped.
“That seems a bit extreme.”
“It’s not. Pinky toes are superfluous. I’d survive without one. I might not survive dealing with him, though.”
“I missed you so much, Sophie.”
“Same. Now let’s recalculate this using my salary from Steele and Lunar.”
She opened her mouth to shut that down, but I held up a hand.
“We both need this house. I can’t afford to live in the city on my own with the student loans I have. Let me contribute, just until these are caught up.” I tapped the bill pile. “You can owe me if you want. I’m zero interest and won’t shut off your power if you’re late on a bill.”
The look she gave me was full of regret and gratitude. “I don’t know what I did in life to deserve such a great kid.”
“You put up with the sperm donor. You’re owed.”
She laughed and got up to hug me. Her arms had barely wrapped around me when my phone started to ring again. We both looked at it.
“Just answer it,” Mom said. “Now I’m curious what he wants.”
My aversion to the man who helped make me ran deep. But my gaze slid to the pile of bills with determination. Mom wasn’t wrong about Dad. He could help. Whether he would or not likely depended on how it benefited him. And I wouldn’t know that until I found out what he was after.
Use him like he used her, Soph.
I picked up before it went to voicemail.
“I said not to call,” I said instead of a hello.
“I hate texting. It’s too impersonal.”
“We haven’t had any contact in eight years. I think we’re at impersonal.”
“That’s why I called. I want to make up for that, Sophia. Let’s have lunch tomorrow as a family.”
I wanted to tell him to bend over and bite his own dick, but I managed to refrain. Only barely. He seemed to take my silence as agreement.
“Come to Seventeen Twenty-One at twelve-thirty. I have a room reserved for us. We can talk more then.”
He hung up before I could even decide if I wanted to go.
I looked at the phone, then at my mom.
“What did he say?”
“He claims he wants to make up for eight years of neglect. I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow at a place downtown for lunch.”
I didn’t say the restaurant because Mom would know the one, and how expensive and out of reach it was for us to eat at. A restaurant I remembered eating at when I was younger, just after their company went public.
“Are you going?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know. I have some time to think about it. Let’s focus on this first.” I tapped the bills for emphasis.
Rather than spending my morning shopping, I spent it with Mom.
We debated the safest way to catch up on all the bills without skipping necessities like food.
She reluctantly accepted my deposit bag for an immediate mortgage payment.
It wasn’t a full payment, but we both agreed it would look better to put something toward the balance right away rather than waiting until we had the full amount, especially since the timeline was tight.
Once we had a plan in place that would meet the mortgage deadline, Mom started calling the utilities to explain the situation and request extensions, while I got ready for work. Although I’d mentioned borrowing from Uncle Jay, she’d quickly rejected the idea.
“Soph, I don’t like that I even have to depend on you like this. I refuse to involve Jay.”
I understood her stance. Her dependence on Dad burned her too badly ever to want to lean on someone like that again.
She accepted my help because I had a vested interest in living here, and she knew I’d walk over hot coals for her, no questions asked.
Uncle Jay would do the same, but he was the sibling of the man who hurt her the most. It would be too much of a kick to her pride to go to him.
But I had no problems borrowing from him. So, I headed to the club early.
He was in his office, speaking with a vendor, when I arrived. I went out to the bar, turned on the light, and set up some glasses for a few promotional shots while I waited for him. He joined me not long after.
“You’re here early,” he said. “Bored at home?”
“No, I’m here to sweet-talk you into an advance on my paycheck.”
He waved to the till. “Take what you need.”
“Just my paycheck a few days early.”
He tilted his head, studying me. “Why? What’s going on?”
I debated how much to tell him, then shook my head, knowing that Mom wouldn’t want him to know anything.
“I’m just a girl with some spending needs.”
He chuckled, told me what tonight’s signature drink would be, then let me mix it so he could cut my check right away. The social posts were up when he handed it over.
“You’re the best,” I said.
“You are. I added a bonus for the promotional stuff you’re doing, too. Don’t give me that look. It’s appropriately small. I know how you feel about handouts.”
My frown changed to a grin. “There’s a fine line between handouts and using someone, and I like walking it.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you accept anything from anyone,” he said. “You even refused the cheap, beat-up car I wanted to give you for your sixteenth birthday.”
“Because I wanted to live. And what do you mean, I don’t accept anything? I collect every tip given to me, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, I noticed that twenty last night. Isn’t he the guy you gave my number to?”
“He is.”
“Is he one of the unshakables? Need me to talk to him?”
“No talk is needed yet. He’s not an unshakable.” I thought about Konni and felt a thrill of anticipation. “He’s tempting, which means he's dangerous, but not a danger. You know what I mean?”
Uncle Jay burst out laughing. “You wear a halo and carry a pitch-fork, Sophie-girl. I pity the man who falls hard for you.”
I smacked his arm. “Get to work and stop harassing your employees.”
Still chuckling, he walked away from me, and I took care of stocking the coolers behind the bar.
Saturday nights were typically the busiest for Lunar Pulse, but not until closer to nine. A few customers always trickled in at opening, but nothing that required two people behind the bar.
So when a group of six walked in the second we opened, followed by Konni, I was a little surprised.
My uncle saw him, chuckled, and said, “You take him. I’ll handle the group.”
Walking to the end of the bar, I waited for Konni to take his usual seat.
“You’re early today,” I said.
“Coming here for a drink has become the highlight of my day.”
“That could be a hint of alcoholism talking,” I said.
“Better make it a mocktail tonight, then.”
I started making him something sweet and felt him watching me.
“Something on your mind?” I asked as I traded the drink for cash.
“Yeah. Were you serious last night? About the daddy issues.”
I felt my face heat, and it wasn’t all embarrassment.
“Are you offering to spank me, Konni?”
He looked down at his drink for a long moment. When his gaze met mine, I saw raw desire there.
“If I knew you were serious about it and not just toying with me, I’d say yes without hesitation. But I wasn’t talking about the spanking part. I meant, is your home life okay?”
The concern behind that question robbed me of all my bravado and made me realize Konni actually cared. Guilt hit me hard even as my danger alarm sounded.
Emotions, such as caring, were deeper waters than I wanted to swim in the dating pool.
“My home life is fine. I promise. I don’t live with my dad. In fact, I’ve successfully avoided him for eight years. He’s a people-user, and I don’t want to be his next victim.”
I thought of the lunch invitation.
“What was that look for?” Konni asked.
“You sure you want to know?”
“Absolutely. Hearing about someone else’s troubles lightens my own. You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”
“Okay. My estranged father showed up at my house yesterday—the first time I’ve seen him or heard from him in eight years—and said he wants to have a family lunch tomorrow, not with me and my mom, his ex-wife, but with his new family and me.