Page 104 of Fair Trade

“Family? Really?” He scoffs.

“This guy bothering you, mijo?” My dad comes up beside Nick and pats him on the back while my uncles flank us.

They seemed to have appeared out of thin air the second Nick needed them.

I see Nick’s eyes soften as he takes in the support of the men who have accepted him as one of their own.

“Nah, he was just leaving.”

A heavy hand lands on George’s shoulder, causing him to wince. “We got a problem here?” Luke asks. His face is impassive, but his bright blue eyes seem darker than usual. Ace Middlebrooks sidles up to George’s other side, arms crossed. His imposing stature is on full display. The look on his face is nothing short of intimidating.

“I’ve had enough of this,” George sputters while trying to shake off Coach’s grip. “No one speaks to me this way. You may have found a way to get that old rickety house back, but I know you, Nicholas. Far better than you think I do. And I know that you have a weak spot, so it’s best you play nice. Because you may not fall in line, but Daisy will,” he sneers.

Coach taps his shoulder twice, forcing George to take a step forward.

“I do not need an escort. Who do you think you are?” George sneers, looking between Coach and Middlebrooks.

“Trash disposal.” Luke guides George to the front doors, Ace two steps behind, and hands George off to security to take it from there.

The ambiance returns to normal once he is out of our line of sight.

Yet something tells me we haven’t seen the last of Nick’s dear old dad.

I knew Nick was still hung up on the less than pleasant interaction we had with his father.

I left him to stew in peace once we got home. I showered and got ready for bed, but after, he was still hidden away in his office.

It’s funny how I don’t recall making the decision to make instant noodles, but somehow I find myself in the kitchen, opening up the stash I bought for Nick the other day.

It might be cheap and overly processed, but it does the trick for cold nights like these.

I find him sitting behind his desk. He’s removed his tie since I last saw him, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt are open, revealing his toned brown skin.

His eyes lift from staring at an invisible spot on the wall and track me as I enter his office.

I skip past the oversized chairs meant for visitors and walk around the desk to present my offering. “I come bearing gifts. This’ll make you feel better.” He wheels back his office chair, and I take a seat on the open space on his desk, placing a hot cup on each side of me. “One has the fake dried vegetables and the other one doesn’t. Wasn’t sure if you were feeling fancy,” I joke.

He looks over at both offerings. “You like your noodles plain, don’t you?”

“Duh, how can I enjoy the silky goodness if I have to worry about getting stray veggies in my teeth?” I nudge his knee with my bare foot.

“Then this is the one I like.” He picks up the veggie one and chews on a large forkful of noodles. “Mmm, that’s better than I remember.” He looks up at me. “Thank you. For this.” He lifts the cup in his hand. “And for tonight.” He sighs as he looks down.

I clear my throat. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” He places his half-empty cup on the desk.

I hum. “Avoidance. Sounds healthy.”

He manages a small smile. “Don’t worry. Remember, I’m back in therapy, so I’ll probably save it for my next session.”

“Am I going to get the CliffsNotes sent to my email again? Because that was my favorite.”

He runs a large, calloused hand up my thigh.

“Nick, your dad is—”

“He’s not my dad. Never was, and he never will be. Unlike your father, who stood up for me tonight.”