Chapter Sixteen
“Come on. Say yes to something scary.” - Hattie
ELIZABETH
Derek’s car is nice, way nicer than I gave it credit for. On the outside, it’s just some old, beat-up thing that was three times the age of Rora, but the interior of the car is clean as a whistle, every crevice is clean, the dashboard doesn’t hold a speck of dust, and there was no trash to be seen.
It’s better kept than mine is, honestly, and it makes me want to go home and clean my car.
“You okay?” he asks, shifting to third as we merge onto a highway. Oh yeah, and it’s a manual. One thing I didn’t know about myself was that watching a man’s forearm muscles and veins flex as they shift gears is something I found to be damn sexy.
Or maybe it’s because Derek is the one doing it.
That’s probably more likely.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m great!” I say a little too loudly for the space we’re in and sigh. “How was the shop this week?”
Derek shrugs and sways his head back and forth. “It actually had a little traction. I had some of the other shop owners stop in a few times to get some things. That hasn’t happened in a while.”
“Well, that’s great.” I say, keeping something to myself. I may or may not have wandered the street of those shops this week, mentioning that if they ever have any hardware needs, they should go to Fowler. I didn’t think, at the time, anything would really come of it. But I guess I was wrong.
“It was, actually. Gives me some hope that I might be able to keep this up.”
“I really hope you can, Derek. You deserve to keep your dad’s shop. Plus, it’s a great foundation for something more.”
I reach into my purse and grab my phone, flipping it over to check it for messages. Nothing.
“Rora okay?” Derek asks, noticing my phone out.
“Oh, she’s fine. I know she is. And I likely won’t hear a peep from my folks this weekend while they have her,” I reply, letting my head fall back. “It’s just, I’m overprotective, I guess. I hate when she’s away and I’m not right there to take care of her.” I shake my head. “I know, I sound nuts.”
“No, not at all.” Derek bites his lip and takes an off-ramp. I never asked where we’re going, but I figure with him driving I don’t have to worry about it all that much. “My mom left when I was Rora’s age.”
I blink in surprise, turning my gaze at him. “She left?”
He nods, turning the wheel of the car when the light turns green. “Yup. Didn’t want to deal with my dad or me anymore and took off. I never saw her again.”
“Derek,” I say, resting my hand gently on his forearm. “I had no idea. I assumed…”
I don’t even want to finish my sentence because now, it feels rude.
“You assumed she died?” he asks, nodding when I confirm. “Yeah, most people do. But no, she was a selfish woman who left a good man and a perfect child.” He flashes a dimple at me, and I grin back. “And went off to live out her fantasies.”
I scoff and sit back in my seat. My head starts to shake of its own accord, and I think of what that must feel like as the child. Of course, Rora’s biological father did the same thing. He just did it before he was ever involved in her life.
How can parents do that? How can the human species be so selfish, but not only that, how could you leave your child behind?
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I answer, my chest vibrating with anger for sweet four-year-old Derek, who didn’t understand why his mother didn’t want him.
“I’m pissed. How dare she?” I scoff again, growling under my breath.
“Man. If she was here right now, I’d wring her neck myself.
She does not know what she missed out on. And your poor dad! Ugh.”
Derek reaches over, placing his hand over mine when we’re stopped at a light.
“Hey, it’s all right. I’m better off the way I am.
Always was.” I turn and see him give me a soft look, one that’s already been through the anger I was feeling on his behalf.
“My dad raising me on his own was the best life I could have asked for. I didn’t need a mom there who didn’t want to be there, that would have made both of our lives harder. ”
For a moment, I take a deep breath and miss the warmth of his hand when he has to drive again. He pulls into a parking garage, and I sit in silence for a moment, gathering myself while he parks.
When he does, he hops out and comes to open my door. I take his hand and stand up in front of him, calmer now.
“I didn’t mean to get all worked up,” I say, grumbling under my breath.
Derek studies me for a moment, and missing is the teasing glint that typically lies within the depths of his eyes. Right now, he’s taking our conversation, and my reaction to it, seriously. “Can I ask why you did?”
I bite the inside of my lip, mad that I let myself feel anger tonight when it should be all about fun. I want to have fun. I’ve been hinting for weeks to this man in front of me that I want to date him, and here we are, on the perfect setup for one, and I’m stepping in it.
“Rora’s dad—biological sperm donor,” I correct.
“He took off the moment I got pregnant with her.” Derek’s gaze seems to darken at that bit of news.
“As soon as I told him I was pregnant, all the fun we had in our relationship was a distant memory. Suddenly, I was a very serious girlfriend and mother of his child, and that was too much for him.” I shrug, unsure why I still let it bother me. “He left and never looked back.”
Derek’s jaw muscles clench, and I find myself mesmerized by them for a moment. “Good.”
I lift a brow in surprise. “Good?”
“Yup.” He nods, grabbing onto my hands and lacing our fingers together. The feeling of connection grounds me as he says, “He doesn’t deserve either one of you, and if he was still around, I wouldn’t be here right now. Selfishly,” he says, adding a smirk to his words, “I’m glad the bastard is gone.”
I let myself smile slightly. “Yeah?”
He grins wide. “Yeah.”
We stand there for a moment, grinning like fools at each other until I hear a ping come from my purse. I pull it out, Derek looking over my shoulder at the picture of my daughter putting makeup on my dad, and we laugh at the image together.
“Okay,” Derek says, clapping his hands together. “Now that we’ve got the nitty-gritty out of the way, we know Rora is having a great time and is perfectly content and safe—what do you say we go have some fun together?”
I slip my phone into my purse and zip it closed. Reaching out, he grabs my hand, and I say. “Absolutely, let’s do it.”
Derek’s friends are an absolute riot. I’ve never had so much fun in my entire life.
April is someone who is hard to keep up with as far as drinking goes. She is the life of the party, and her husband, who seems much calmer than his counterpart, barely takes his eyes off of her for a moment.
That is something I notice strongly with this group, that each couple is completely obsessed with each other. The men barely talked unless they felt compelled and let us girls take over the conversation all through dinner, which was at a fancy, dimly lit sushi place that I now love.
I was shocked that all these men wanted sushi, but as we walked down the street to our next destination—a club I am way too old to be in—I figured out why they were okay with sushi when they stopped to get slices of pizza out a window of one of the music venues downtown.
“Ah, I see.” I nod and laugh when Viviana, April, Jane, and Molly—the only single girl besides me in the group—step away for the boys to get their pizza. “Sushi makes sense now.”
“We take care of each other,” Viviana says, and Jane rests her head on her shoulder, seeming seconds away from sleeping.
“That’s so nice.”
“Hey!” April snaps her fingers and looks at me. I watch her with wide, humorous eyes. “What do you do?”
I frown. “What do I do?”
“Yeah, for work.”
I nod my head. “Oh. I work in marketing.”
Viviana pops up then, “You do?” She says this at max volume, grabbing the attention of the men in our group.
I shoot Derek a wide grin that he reciprocates. “Yes.”
I laugh at her, and she says excitedly, “So do I! I have my own firm now, though, because working for other people is the pits.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“Do you love it?” Jane, the sweet, quiet one of the group, asks me. Her head is now fully supported on her own since Viviana keeps moving too much.
“Nope,” I answer, figuring I may as well be honest with them. There’s no reason to keep that bit of information to myself.
“Aw, really?” April asks, pouting.
“Yeah. It’s not my passion.”
“What would you say your passion is?” Jane, the CEO of the biggest energy company in the world, asks me, and because of that position, I hesitate to answer.
I think people have lost sight of the value the position “mother” holds, and sometimes, when I spill my dreams—which I’ve only done with Hattie—it feels like the wrong answer.
But I’m not a liar, nor am I ashamed of what I want to do with my life. “I want to be the best damn mother there ever was.”
I’m surprised when the girls all yell in support of what I just said.
Jane smiles broadly at my answer, easing my concern for her opinion, and the boys all wander over then.
All of them join their prospective partners except the single two of the group, Garrett and Molly, but I watch out of the corner of my eye as Garrett hands Molly a slice of pizza and she gives him a side eye, but takes a bite and moans appreciatively.
And when her back is turned, his expression softens.
“Here.” Derek holds up the pizza to me, and I shake my head. “You don’t want any?”
“It’s your pizza, plus I ate most of your sushi.” This is true, and now it makes sense why he let me.
“Come on, have you ever had this kind before?” he asks, and when I shake my head, he holds the pizza up. I take a bite, squealing when the oil threatens to spill down my chin. Derek laughs and takes a napkin, cleaning me up as I chew. “See? Good, right?”
“Um, phenomenal, actually,” I reply, nodding my head as we all start to walk.
I glance up at the sign ahead and see the entrance to the baseball field, and there’s a woman with honey hair standing outside, arguing with a very tall man.
“Hattie!” I call out to my sister as we approach, and she turns, surprised by the sight of me. “Why are you at work still?”
“Oh, you know how it is, keeping pain-in-the-ass baseball players in line.” Hattie grins and pulls me into a hug.
The man behind her eyes me with curiosity, and I smile and wave. “Hi! I’m Elizabeth, Hattie’s big sister.”
His eyes widen with surprise, and he steps forward to shake my hand. “Ah, nice to meet you. Dean Maddox.”
Arms grip mine as I pull my hand back, and I glance back at the group behind me, all staring.
“Oh, sorry guys, Hattie, this is Derek.” I flare my eyes to get her to understand, but I might have had too much to drink already because she rolls her eyes in an obviously kind of way. “And all of his friends.”
“And her friends!” Viviana shouts, claiming me.
I clutch my chest. “Aw. Guys, this is Hattie, my baby sister. She works for the Cobras.”
“Nice to meet you guys,” Hattie says and gives me a look when she glances at Derek’s hands clutching my arms.
The look says, we will be discussing this.
“Hey man, good game yesterday.” Garrett is the one who speaks up, and Dean gives a nod of appreciation to him.
“Thanks, man.”
“Oh yeah, I watched it! Rora was screaming the whole game, but I don’t think she knew what was going on.”
“That’s your daughter?” Dean asks, looking from me to Hattie. I can tell something is going on here that I’m not sure I’m involved in, but I nod my head and give him a polite smile.
“Well! You all should get going. I need to wrap up and head home.” Hattie pulls me into a hug and whispers, “We’re so talking tomorrow.”
“Uh, yeah, same!” I whisper back, and my group forges on, leaving my sister to deal with her grumpy baseball player.
“Holy shit,” Enzo says, “I had no idea your sister works for the Cobras.”
“Yup. She’s a PR specialist for them,” I say, wishing I could take my shoes off and walk the rest of the way barefoot. But even if I felt comfortable doing that, I would never trust the streets of Denver.
Derek clasps my hand tightly and helps me up the little hill to the entrance of the club, and we all file in, flashing our IDs as we go.
We all find a drink in our hands quickly and down them just as fast, eager to get onto the thumping dance floor with our guys.
Derek holds me closely, not letting me get too far from him, and it’s the first time in my life that I feel actually cherished by the guy I’m with.
I’ve felt attractive, I’ve felt hormones rage, but never have I felt comfortable and confident with a man I was dating—or hopefully dating.
Truth be told, it feels like a date, but there technically hasn’t been any clarification.
His lips graze over my ear as he says, “Care to dance?”
I nod and let him lead me out, and before long I let the music take over, and all my concerns, worries, and fears drift away.
All because of the man who was holding on to me.