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chapter sixteen

Graham

“ W ow, Dad. It’s a good thing this isn’t an emergency or anything,” Olivia teased when I finally answered my phone. “I’ve been texting and calling for like an hour.”

“Sorry, I was…” I cleared my throat. “Asleep. What’s so urgent?”

“Nothing’s urgent,” she said, her voice alarmingly perky. She was about to ask me for money, wasn’t she? “I just wondered if you had any dinner plans.”

“Dinner plans? Why, what’s going on?”

“Can’t a girl have dinner with her dad?”

I shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice from the fridge, switching my phone to the other ear. “I would love to have dinner with you, kid, but why don’t you just ask me for whatever favor it is that you need?”

“I don’t need a favor. I promise. It’s just dinner.”

“Uh huh. This is suspicious, Livvy.”

“There’s nothing suspicious!” She laughed, and that was how I knew something was up. “I just thought it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know Richie better.”

There it was.

It took everything in me to hold in a sigh. “Ah.” I pulled a glass out of the cabinet and began to pour some OJ. “That’ll be nice.”

“Can you meet us at La Cocina at six?”

“Sure can.” I took a swig of juice and swallowed it down. Just like I was going to have to swallow down my conversation with this kid.

“Great! And Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t do that whole condescending, sarcastic thing where it seems like you’re giving a compliment but you’re actually insulting him. Even if it goes over his head. Just be nice.”

Man, did she have my number, or what? I feigned shock with a gasp. “What do you mean? I’m always nice.”

“Dad, I’m serious.”

I screwed the cap back on the orange juice and smiled from one side of my mouth. “I am, too. I’ll be on my best behavior—and I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

Getting to see either of my kids when it wasn’t my weekend was always a nice treat. I would prefer dinner without the extra company, but I could suck it up. I hung up with Olivia and trudged upstairs for a shower.

I stepped under the hot spray, my mind snapping back to Jillian and the breathless way she moaned when I was inside of her. The words, “Yes, sir” would forever carry a different weight and I prayed she’d never utter them again.

I let the water scald my skin, hoping it would wash the memories away–her scent, her voice, her taste. The way she fell asleep wrapped around my body.

But I could scrub her away until my skin turned raw, and I’d still want her just as bad.

***

The hostess at La Cocina led us to a booth against the vibrant sugar skull mural at the back of the restaurant. I slid into the booth across from them, quickly taking note of the redness in Richie’s eyes when he shook his long hair out of the way. Could he be any more obvious?

“What have you two been up to today?” I asked, immediately reaching for the drink menu.

Olivia, who was all dolled up in a flowy pink shirt, stared at the side of Richie’s face as he studied the menu. “We played hide and seek with his little brothers.” She turned to me and smiled. “Richie’s so good with kids.”

Richie scowled and looked up. “They don’t have chicken nuggets?”

The server appeared and introduced herself before taking our drink order. “Modelo, please,” I said, scratching my ear with irritation. “And this will be on one check.”

“Wow, thank you,” Richie said, putting his arm around my daughter’s shoulders. She grinned up at him, staring at that boy the way she used to stare at slime videos on YouTube. He grabbed a chip and crunched on it—without salsa. “That’s really cool of you.”

“You’re welcome,” I answered, looking at Olivia. “Think of it as my way of celebrating your first few days at your first real job.”

She smiled and glanced down, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of the little girl she used to be. Try as she might to hide those freckles behind layers of make-up, they were still there—just like her dimples. “Thanks, Dad.”

The server returned with our drinks and took our orders. Richie said he’d “try” a taco salad with no lettuce or tomatoes. Then, the only distraction left was the basket of chips between us.

“So,” I said, stirring the salsa around with a chip. “You’re going to be a senior, right? Any plans for college?”

He held Olivia’s hand atop the shiny, wooden table. “I’m actually going straight into working for my dad’s construction company.”

“He’s already helping him this summer,” Olivia interjected. “They’ve been working on the gym at Grissom.”

I nodded. That was a better answer than I expected. It sounded responsible. Respectable.

“It’s just my back-up plan, though, in case the whole DJ thing doesn’t take off,” Richie said, crunching on another plain chip.

I met Olivia’s eyes across the table, and hers widened like she was begging me not to say something mean. I took a sip of my beer, giving myself a few seconds before I responded. I had to work myself up to ask the follow-up question I knew he was waiting for. “What DJ thing?”

He perked up. “I’ve been doing a few DJing gigs for parties. I’m working my way up to youth group lock-ins, and then I might see if I can book a wedding reception.”

“He’s really talented,” Olivia said with a nod.

“Wow.” What else was there to say?

“I love shaking things up. Like, I’ll mash a popular song with something really unexpected, like a sitcom theme song from the nineteen-hundreds.”

I could almost feel a new gray hair sprouting from my head. “The nineteen-hundreds? Ancient times, you mean.”

He laughed. “Yeah.”

By the time the food arrived at the table, I’d learned a few more things about Richie, like that he was the middle child in a family with five boys, and his mom ran a daycare in their home.

The way Olivia continuously chimed in to point out how responsible, talented, and smart he was didn’t go unnoticed.

It was clear she wanted me to see what she saw in him.

But as I assembled my fajitas, I wanted to shift the focus back to my daughter. “Olivia,” I started. “What do you think about this job so far? Do you see yourself having a future in journalism?”

She took a bite out of a nacho weighed down with toppings. “Don’t get all excited when I tell you this, but maybe.”

I froze, my hands hovering over the foil-wrapped tortillas beside me. “Really? I’ve been trying to get you interested in journalism since you were old enough to hold a pen, but it only took Jillian Taylor three days.” I shook my head, grinning down at my plate. “She worked her magic on you, huh?”

“I love every minute of it,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’re covering a press conference at the mayor’s office tomorrow. It’s going to be my first time helping her on an assignment outside the studio.”

“I hope you have fun. Do you like working with Jill?”

“Yeah, she’s so sweet. It honestly doesn’t even feel like work, even when she assigns me these random tasks. I’m learning a lot, but Jill makes it fun.” She paused to take a sip of her Pepsi. “She’s kind of like the cool older sister I never had.”

I choked.

I literally choked on my beer, coughing so hard Richie paused mid-bite to look at me in alarm. “Sorry,” I rasped, pounding my chest with my fist. “Went down the wrong way.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Are you good?”

“Peachy,” I said, taking a long sip of water to recover from hearing my daughter say those words about Jill.

Cool older sister.

That’s what I got for fooling around with a woman more than a decade younger than me. Not just any woman—the woman mentoring my daughter. I hadn’t stopped to think about how this might upset her if she knew. She’d be mortified.

I changed the subject, asking Richie how the reconstruction of the school gym was coming along. He talked about ripping out the warped gym flooring and installing new bleachers; it at least sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

“Sounds like you could have a promising career in construction,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “Construction worker by day, DJ by night.”

“Dude,” he said with a chuckle, turning to Olivia. “I’m putting that in my bio.”

The rest of the meal went by without any more panic-inducing remarks about Jill, and after I paid the server, we stepped outside into the warm, sticky air. On the sidewalk, I shook Richie’s hand before hugging Olivia. “See you in the studio on Monday, kid.”

Richie stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Hey Liv, can you go ahead and get in the car? I wanna talk to your dad real quick.”

Ah, fuck.

Olivia blinked at him in surprise. “You do? About what?”

Richie just grinned, putting a stick of gum in his mouth. “Don’t worry about it, ‘kay? Just go get in the car. I’ll be right there.” He winked at her.

Olivia looked from me to her boyfriend, a wary smile forming on her face. “Okay, but don’t say anything that’s going to make me mad later.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as Richie gestured for her to keep walking toward his car. Once she got in and closed the door, he turned to me and shook his head, smacking his gum. “She’s feisty.”

“Yeah. What do you need to talk to me about?” I was done with the small talk.

Richie looked up into my eyes, his expression suddenly solemn. He cleared his throat. “Um. I just wanted to let you know how much I care about Olivia.”

Was this teenage boy about to ask for my blessing, or what? I said nothing, waiting for him to get to the point with my arms folded against my chest.

He took a breath. “She said she’s not sure you like me a whole lot. And I get that. But you should just know that I love Olivia, and she’s the only thing I really care about. I would do anything to protect her.”

“That’s—”

“I’d jump in front of a speeding train for her.”

My jaw clenched, and the cheerful mariachi music playing softly from a nearby outdoor speaker seemed to taunt me. Was it getting louder? “Well,” I said, pausing for a second to reel in every sarcastic response on the tip of my tongue. Except one. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, huh?”

He just let out an uneasy chuckle.

“Richie,” I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You seem like a good kid. I don’t dislike you. But I’m going to hold you to what you said, all right?”

He nodded.

“Olivia’s a smart girl with a bright future ahead of her. She’s starting to figure out what she wants in her life, and she doesn’t need any unnecessary distractions or heartbreak pulling her off course. You get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to have to find out an angry father is a lot scarier than a speeding train.” I gave his shoulder a squeeze, so he’d know I was totally joking, and he let out another nervous laugh.

We were quiet for a second as a family walked past us on their way into the restaurant. I gave them a nod as they passed, releasing my grip on Richie’s shoulder. And then he took a step backward toward his car, saying, “You have my word, Mr. Harlowe. I’m never going to do anything to hurt her.”

“Good.” I nodded toward his car. “Better not keep her waiting. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

I remained on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to them both as Richie’s car pulled out of the parking space. Sighing, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to give Andrea a call so we could laugh about this together.

And damn it, as much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, that little heart-to-heart with Richie had actually done the trick. I was starting to like the kid.

A little.