24. Stan
Chapter twenty-four
Stan
“Are you sure you aren’t upset?” Ruth asks.
“I am not upset. I’m just worried.” My hands tighten on the wheel.
We’re parked in front of her school. The principal called me later that evening and said he’d give Ruth a fair warning instead of detention. Still, we told Ruth learning from home was an option if she didn’t feel comfortable going back to class.
Instead, Ruth decided to come to school.
“Worried?” Ruth repeats. “But I caused you and Sam problems yesterday,”
“Ruth, you aren’t a problem. Not to me. And definitely not to Sam.”
She’s sitting in the passenger seat, so I reach out to touch her hair but stop halfway, unsure if I’m allowed to.
Ruth smiles and brings her head closer. I tussle her hair, and my heart warms.
“I still feel like a burden,” she says.
“You’re my kid. You’re allowed to be my burden.” I laugh and let go of her hair. “You’re very important to me.”
“What about Sam?” she asks innocently.
“Sam is also important to me,” I answer honestly. “But don’t tell her that or no allowance for a day. Can’t let it get to her head. ”
“I won’t,” she chuckles. “I'm glad you’re here, Dad.”
She called me Dad. She called me Dad!
I want to shout it from the rooftops, scream it to every person I meet. But I know that wouldn’t do anything but embarrass Ruth and make people stare at me.
“I’m glad, too,” I say with a grin. “Now, run along.”
She embraces me, shocking me for a moment, but I hug her and pat her back. Sometimes I forget how small my daughter is.
As she opens the car door, she turns to me. “Don’t let it get to your head. Those hugs won’t be an everyday thing.”
“I could live with that,” I say casually with a shrug, and she grins before closing the door. Leaving me in the car.
I watch her disappear into the school before I drive off.
***
Back at the office, I notice a motorcycle parked in the lot. It doesn’t look like Lucas’s, so I assume it’s one of Lesley’s men.
As I open the doors, I realize I was right. I don’t know who this guy is, but judging from the paint-splattered overalls, I assume he’s the painter we hired to repaint the walls.
But that’s not all he’s painting. Because right now, he’s succeeding in painting my heart green with jealousy.
I watch him crack some joke, making Sam burst into laughter. Then he flexes his muscles, and she looks amused.
Not on my watch and territory, you don’t.
“Ahem,” I clear my throat, making my presence known. I size the painter up as I approach them. Thankfully, I don’t have to make myself look taller since I have a few inches on the younger man.
“Stan, you’re here. This is Louis the painter,” Sam introduces him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” the man says, stretching his hand. I accept the handshake and give him a firm one, suppressing the urge to crush his hand.
Instead, I pull him closer, blocking his view of Sam. “Lesley gave you the rundown. Or do I need to remind you? ”
The man looks like he’s about to pee his pants. “Lesley already told me.”
“Good, now get to work. Please .”
He nods and disappears.
Sam sighs. “Stan, if you’re jealous, you could just take off your clothes and flex those muscles.”
I think for a moment. “You’re right. I will.”
She stands there, hands on her hips. “Well, are you going to flex for me or what?”
I smirk, choosing to keep the shirt on, but I do flex for her. “That’s all you’re going to get. I don’t show my muscles for free.”
It’s good to know that my jealousy was for nothing. I know Sam isn’t really interested in the guy I scared off. He was nothing more than a young guy interested in Sam and attempting to make his move.
But he’s biting off more than he could chew. This guy couldn’t handle Sam. Fuck, I can barely handle Sam most of the time.
“I guess I’ll have to make do with that,” Sam said glumly, making her disappointment known to me.
“I should get back to work… unless you want me to flex some more for you.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
Sam rolls her eyes. “As if I want you to flex for me again, Movie Boy.”
“Says the woman who sounded legitimately disappointed when I refused to flex just now.”
Sam snorts. “You were hearing things.”
I smirk. “Was I now? I think my hearing is still pretty sharp.”
“Please. You’re losing it, old man.”
“Oh, so now I’m old?”
As much as I want to stand there and continue bantering with her, I have to get back to work. I shoot her a glance and grin.
“We both need to get back to work, Sam.”
She sighed. “Fine, fine. The only reason I’m entertaining the idea is because you pay so well.”
“I always take care of my employees,” I say truthfully.
It’s the afternoon. I have to step out of the office to meet with Selena and discuss the final script.
She’s also told me the actors she felt would best suit the story. We agree on 90% of them. We still have to consult with the assistant director, who’ll be arriving at Rose Haven soon. Most of the shooting would be done here, so I need to get a permit from the mayor’s office for certain areas.
It’s a good deal to make the movie here. Could bring some good tourism to the town if it goes well.
If.
I swallow hard and walk into the office. The smell of new paint is in the air, though I know it’s not toxic. Must be a new formula or something.
My only problem is the painter, who has now stripped to a tank top and is checking out Sam. She doesn’t seem to notice, as she’s focused on her laptop.
I make my way to my desk and shoot her an email.
Dear Samantha,
The painter is checking you out again.
With sincere worry,
Stan Holt
She looks up at me, then shakes her head with a smile.
Dear Stan,
How was the discussion with Selena? Have you decided on a date for final discussions? I think those matters are more important than a guy gawking at my cleavage.
Don’t you think?
Samantha Knight, Office Seductress
Stan Holt Productions
I look up at her. She bites on her pen and licks it a little. I stifle a groan. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Office seductress, indeed.
Louis the painter looks away and mutters something. My blood boils .
Dear Office Seductress,
I’m the only one meant to check you out. And be seduced by you.
This is in violation of my rights as your first victim.
Stan Holt, Victim of the Office Seductress
An unladylike snort escapes Sam’s lips, drawing my attention and the painter’s.
“Sorry about that,” she says, turning to Louis. “I don’t like being looked at that way, especially as we're both trying to work. It’s uncomfortable.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, ma’am,” Louis’s voice cracks a little, but he looks away.
Then she turns to me and mouths, “Better?”
“Better , ” I mouth back.
She grins and gets back to work. I stare at her as she focuses, and I can’t help but picture this same woman on my desk just the other day. Lace panties in full view, throbbing pussy on my fingers, and her hand covering her face as she cried out my name.
Fuck.
Dear Sam,
I want to touch myself while thinking of you.
Stan
I look at the email and consider deleting it. As I reach for the delete button, the painter sneezes, making me jerk in surprise and click the mouse. To my horror, I hear the email notification ding at Sam’s desk. My heart sinks.
Sam looks up at me, and I don’t know if she’s turning with anger or embarrassment. Or, dare I hope, arousal?
Her phone rings, granting me a moment of relief.
“Hey, Ruthie,” Sam answers. “Oh no. In class? You poor thing.” Sam gets to her feet and starts putting stuff into her handbag. “I won’t tell him, but he’ll figure it out. Just stay right there and don’t move. I'll be there.”
Ruth.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She stares at me for a moment. “You have a long week ahead of you. And when I get back, you’ll explain that email. House keys.” She stretches her hand to me.
I give her the keys, and she blows me a kiss before she leaves.