Chapter 8 #2
“Things that us dirt-poor people actually find useful to get us through not only the Christmas holidays but the entire year,” I said.
Shawn looked even more surprised. He had to take another drink of coffee before saying, “You’re poor?”
Uh-oh. I’d just assumed he knew. He’d seen the way I looked that day we nearly ran into each other at the Dark Fantasies Club office. But he did seem to have a habit of blurting out obvious questions before he could stop himself.
Which was sexy as fuck.
“Yeah,” I admitted as remembrance dawned in his eyes. “I thought that was pretty much apparent by the whole taking care of my papa instead of going to college and spending every penny I earned at my crap retail job on rent and medical bills.”
“I’m sorry,” Shawn said in a rush. “I didn’t make the connection.”
“It is what it is,” I said, holding up a hand like I didn’t want to get into it any deeper. “But all of my fabulous life experience means I know what the sort of people your supper is catered toward actually need, and it isn’t a few nice Christmas presents and one good meal.”
“What is it, then?” Shawn asked, leaning toward me with interest sparking in his eyes.
“It’s jobs,” I said, leaning toward him as well. “Good jobs. Jobs that will let people do more than live paycheck to paycheck.”
“Jobs.” Shawn nodded. “Got it.”
“Ah,” I said, holding up a finger and telling him to wait a minute. “But a lot of people in my situation don’t have the skills for the best-paying jobs. See previous reference to not being able to go to college because of money and taking care of Papa.”
Shawn frowned, confused over the way I seemed to be arguing with myself. “So…job training?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said with a beaming smile. “Except there are a lot of single parents out there who have young children that they can’t just drop to go to school or training, or leave behind when they go to work all day.”
Shawn looked more confused than ever, but he also wore a look of determination, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “So…daycare?”
“Absolutely,” I said, spreading my arms wide.
Shawn took another sip of coffee, then said, “Daycare, job training, and jobs. How do you wrap those up as gifts for a charity supper event and give them to people for Christmas?”
Hell if I knew, but I did have a few ideas I’d been thinking about as my own situation started to spiral. “It’s a complicated situation,” I began. “A lot of it has to come from—”
My words died in my mouth and I sat up straighter as, of all people, my dad walked into the diner.
“Is something wrong?” Shawn asked, glancing over his shoulder to see what had made me go pale and bugged my eyes out.
As soon as Dad saw me, he broke into his slickest, gap-toothed grin. “Zo-Zo, my boy,” he said as he sauntered down the aisle toward us, arms spread like he would give me a big hug.
There was no way I was letting that deadbeat come anywhere near me. He’d probably pat me down and steal my wallet while I hugged him.
“Do you know him?” Shawn asked. I loved the defensive, alpha growl that had come into his voice and the way his rain scent seemed to grow stronger as my dad came nearer.
Dad heard the question and answered for me as he slipped into the booth by my side. “I’m his old man. Jamie O’Neill, at your service.” Dad extended a hand across the table to Shawn.
Shawn didn’t take it. I was suddenly so glad I’d mentioned my dad was a deadbeat when we were in the car earlier. “Mr. O’Neill,” he greeted him with a cold nod instead.
If Shawn’s reaction bothered my dad, he didn’t let on. He kept his smile in place as he pulled his arms back, then proceeded to drink the last of my coffee and eat the last piece of bacon off my plate.
“Where’ve you been lately, Zo-Zo?” Dad asked, taking a piece of pancake off Shawn’s plate while still chewing on my bacon.
“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled. “Papa called me ‘Zo-Zo’. You’re not allowed to use that name.”
My dad shrugged and ignored me, as usual. “I stopped by to see how my dear son was doing the other day but you weren’t home.”
Under the table, Shawn’s foot made contact with my leg. It was endearing how he was trying to look out for me, even though I’d faced this situation a million times in my past. I smiled briefly at him to let him know it was okay, then turned to my dad and said, “I’ve been busy with work.”
“I know, I know,” Dad said. “I dropped by the store yesterday and had a lovely chat with your boss, Mr. York. I tried to pick up your check. You know, to keep it safe for you. That bastard wouldn’t let me.”
I never thought I would say or even think the words “Thank God for Mr. York.”
“It’s not your money, Dad, it’s mine,” I said, feeling like a broken record. “I don’t owe you anything, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have anything to give you. I’m going to be paying off Papa’s medical bills until I’m fifty.”
Dad snorted and waved his hand like that was inconsequential. “There’s always a bit left for them that raised us, right?” he asked Shawn, like he was talking alpha to alpha. “Looks like you’ve found yourself an alpha with a bit of green in his grass, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not certain Enzo wants you here,” Shawn said, cold as steel.
Dad laughed. “Ooh. He’s one of those alphas. Rick Deluca isn’t going to be happy about that.”
I went so tense that I knocked the fork off my plate. Shawn noticed. His look of revulsion for my dad turned into a serious look that went about five steps beyond just concern for me. “Who is Rick Deluca?” he asked.
“Ricky?” Dad shrugged. “He’s an old friend of mine. We go way back. He’s taken a shine to Zo-Zo here. Says they’ve been working on a deal for a while now. A deal I might just want a piece of.”
“I believe Enzo said not to call him Zo-Zo,” Shawn defended me.
I loved that, but I would have to appreciate it later. I swallowed hard, wishing I hadn’t eaten so much. I was in danger of puking it all over the table. Dad and Rick knew each other? Dad thought he had a stake in the so-called deal Rick and I had discussed?
My dad was going to try to sell me to a human trafficker.
“Now isn’t a great time, Dad,” I said, playing things as casual as possible.
I took a drink of the orange juice Evelyn had brought with our food in an attempt to look unruffled, but it was a bad idea.
My stomach definitely didn’t like that. “Shawn and I were just finishing up brunch, and then he has somewhere else he needs to be.”
“You’re coming with me,” Shawn told me in no uncertain terms.
I knew what he was doing. He sensed danger and he was trying to protect me.
It was awesome, but I knew my dad. If he thought me and Shawn were together, and if he figured out Shawn had money, Shawn wouldn’t have another moment’s peace.
I had to make it look like we were just two ships passing in the night, because really, as much as I didn’t like it, that’s exactly what we were.
I was saved from having to make up a story or put Shawn off in front of my dad when Evelyn came marching over to our table, hands on her hips and fury in her eyes. “I thought I banned you from this place for life, Jamie,” she said, going full alpha on Dad.
“Evelyn, love,” Dad said, trying to play it cool as he peeked at Shawn but jumping up and backing away from the booth and Evelyn so fast you would have thought the place was on fire. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“This is my diner, Jamie, and I said I’d call the cops if I ever saw you in here again.”
“Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement,” Dad told her, hurrying away from our table without even looking at me or Shawn. He was too busy not getting killed by Evelyn. “There’s no need to involve the cops.”
Shawn and I watched as Evelyn chased Dad out of the diner.
She came back to apologize to us and to offer to comp our meal, which Shawn flat refused.
That would have been a good time to leave the diner, go home, and bury myself under the ratty old quilt on my bed, but I was too shaken up to suggest it.
“Need a minute?” Shawn asked as we sat there with fresh cups of coffee Evelyn had insisted on pouring for us between us.
“Yeah,” I said, still trying not to let on how scared my dad mentioning Rick Deluca had made me. “He just really pisses me off, you know?” Anger was a good mask for fear.
“Tell me how I can help you,” Shawn said, reaching across the table for my hand.
I didn’t want to be weak, not now. This wasn’t a scene, this was real life, and weak people got eaten for lunch in real life. But Shawn’s hand felt so good around mine.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “He’s always like this. I’m used to it.”
Shawn definitely didn’t like that answer. “Different topic, then,” he said. “How would you like a job?”
“What?” I sat up straight so fast I nearly sloshed coffee out of my cup.
“You have a clear vision for things that would help elevate people in life,” Shawn explained.
“That’s exactly what I want to focus on with my own charitable endeavors.
And that’s without bringing the Wythe Foundation into things.
I need someone like you to point me in the right direction.
I’ve never even eaten at a diner before now.
How am I supposed to know what people really need? ”
I didn’t know what to say. Working for a foundation that actually helped people like me would be amazing. But I had no credentials, no qualifications. And I had my dad and Rick Deluca wanting a piece of me. Shawn was a good guy. He was the good guy. I would only bring him down.
But damn, I wanted that job.
“Sorry,” Shawn said letting go of my hand.
I was terrified he was going to say it was all a joke and he wasn’t really serious, but he said, “I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you.
But I would like to talk about it.” He reached for the pen Evelyn had brought so he could sign his credit card receipt and wrote out a phone number on a napkin.
“This is my number. Why don’t you think about it for a few days, find your equilibrium again, and give me a call on Tuesday or Wednesday so we can discuss this more.
” He paused, then smiled as he offered me the napkin and said, “I’d really like to see you again, Enzo. ”
I couldn’t believe it. It was like something out of a movie. A gorgeous, sexy, powerful, rich alpha was giving me, a nobody omega who lived in a seedy apartment and worked a shit job, his phone number.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the napkin. “I’d really like to see you again, too.”
It was the truth, but it was also a pipe dream.
Alphas like Shawn were never seriously interested in omegas like me.
I folded the napkin and put it in my jeans pocket with a smile.
I didn’t know what I was going to do, though.
The DFC had nothing on this. Shawn wanting to see me again was the biggest fantasy I could have imagined.