Page 23 of My Ex’s Dad (Scandalous Billionaires #1)

Chapter twelve

Amalphia

O of, I need serious advice.

Warrick left for the office first thing this morning. He still didn’t look like he was one hundred percent—I mean, he always looks one hundred percent, but that’s not how the saying goes. He was probably a solid eighty-five percent of the way healthy.

I immediately went into his bathroom to clean and then stripped his bed and threw everything into the washer.

It’s been a few hours, and I’m still wrestling with all those loads.

The freaking sheets made up one whole load, as well as the comforter I had to beat into submission to get it into both the washer and the dryer.

I threw myself into cleaning the kitchen, the windows, and the floors on top of all my regular cleaning.

I’ve spent hours this morning trying to exhaust myself, but the truth is, I’m still vibrating. Literally.

I can see my hands shaking when I raise them in front of my face.

Alright, they’re not shaking but tremoring a little.

The nervous anxiety is real. Cleaning didn’t do the trick, and blasting metal music over the house’s amazing speakers and scrubbing to the violent rhythm didn’t exhaust me.

I even got changed and went for a swim, pushing myself to do laps until I was panting.

But as soon as I got out and dried off, I felt just as invigorated.

I know what’s wrong with me.

No, wrong isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s that I know what’s right with me.

I kissed my boss. And he kissed me back.

I’ve wanted to do that for a while. Maybe he has too.

He tried to get me to leave, but in the end, he couldn’t.

I’ve never seen anyone look more genuinely miserable than when War begged me to stay.

Or so blissfully and wonderfully amazed when I kissed him.

That’s where it’s at.

Totally up in the air. Total unknown what the fuck are we even doing, and where the fuck do we go from here? status.

I don’t have time to go home for a visit yet, but I need advice. And not just any advice. I need hardcore granvice . Granny advice. There is zero substitute in the world for Granny’s brain and heart. No one knows me better.

I’ve been talking to my parents regularly on my tablet, but calling my granny in the middle of the day is dicey.

She has her own tablet, but she’s not the greatest at operating it, and my parents don’t head over there until after dinner.

I love my mom and dad, but right now, this isn’t a conversation I want to have with them.

They wouldn’t understand the way I know Granny would.

Even if she doesn’t, at least she’ll be inappropriately hilarious. I could use a dose of that too.

I grab some swanky coconut water out of the fridge and head back to the pool house.

I have almost an hour before I need to check the dryer.

The coconut water comes in a Tetra Pak thing.

I have to unscrew the lid. I’ve never tried it before, and I’m surprised to find that it’s quite refreshing and delicious.

Well, it should be. It probably cost nine dollars.

I wish War would leave the grocery shopping to me.

I’m sure I could get better deals. At the same time, the pressure of having to do it would make my head implode.

It’s much easier that he just keeps using his usual online service.

He can pick what he wants then, and I don’t have to guess if I’m getting the right bone broth or gamble on the cut of steak.

I don’t have to pay attention to things like grain-fed and grass-fed, organic, and all the other options that mean more money.

I try to ignore the prices on the things that have stickers, but my good god. Eighty dollars for a steak?

I never forget that Warrick doesn’t need to worry about money. It just seems so strange to me that it constantly blows my mind.

I sprawl across my bed, the AC blasting into the pool house and chilling it off to just the right temperature. Warrick likes the house a few degrees colder than I prefer it, but it’s not like I’d ever go and find and try to hijack his thermostat. I just throw on a sweater if I need one.

I reach for my tablet and turn it on. Granny has an identical one. We got them for Christmas last year. It’s a miracle that mine made it through Reginaldgate.

Thoughts of Reg set my teeth on edge, so I focus on what I’m doing, opening the app and calling Granny’s number.

I wait as it rings. It rings through again and then disconnects. I call back three more times just to make sure she’s really not there. She could be doing anything. It’s the middle of the day, but chances are she’s trying to figure out how to answer the call.

My hunch proves correct when the screen flashes and then goes black. I can’t see anything, but I can hear Granny in the background.

“What in the devil—fargery hellish beast thing—Irene! Irene! Come here! You know how to work these blasted, confounded, cursed contraptions! I can’t get the screen to work. It keeps flashing a call, but I can’t see anything.”

A disembodied voice joins Granny’s. “I think it’s supposed to be like that.”

“What’s that now? I tried that! Blast it and bottoms!”

“Hand it over. I can’t see what I’m doing when it’s upside down. There. Yup. Got it.”

The screen cuts in. I wave at Irene, who has curlers in her hair and a bright red silk scarf over them. She waves back, the world spins, and then Granny’s face centers on the screen. My wave becomes so enthusiastic that it’s a miracle my hand doesn’t snap right off.

“Oh, thank you and tarnation! Amalphia? Are you there?”

“Hey, Granny, I’m here.”

She can clearly see that I am indeed here. She grins and pats her stark white hair. “I got highlights. Can you see?” She flashes the tablet up at an alarming rate. It’s like warp speed, but when she lowers it, I do catch sight of the lovely blue and pink streaks.

“Oh my gosh! I love it!” I gush.

“Are you going to come visit soon?”

“I want to. I mean, yes. I’m going to come soon. I’m so sorry that I’ve been busy. It just took a while to settle in, and then Warrick got so sick. I miss you guys.”

“I miss you too, Malphie Ralphie.” Granny frowns. “Is he okay? What kind of sick?”

“The ralphing kind, which oddly, I just realized my nickname resembles.” I shudder. “He’s okay, though. He went back to work today. It was a nasty bug.”

“I hope you don’t get it.”

“I hope so too. Immune system, so far so good.”

“Are you bringing your millionaire man meat with you when you visit?”

“Granny! What?” My tablet falls to the bed, and I hurry to pick it back up, nearly spilling the coconut water. I guess that’s why the carton has a little spout cap on it.

“You heard me.”

“It’s a little more than that.” I raise my thumb in the air. If she’s going to say things like that, she should get the net worth correct. She’s just playing, and I’m playing right along. What else can you do when you have a granny who doesn’t believe in filters?

“Ooh, bring your zany zillionaire zaddy with you then. I’m requesting it. I need to give him the drill about dating my granddaughter.”

I groan. “I’m officially filing this conversation under you can’t tell her anything. ”

“Don’t use air quotes with me. I’ll give you air quotes.”

She mirrors mine directly into the screen.

I sigh, shifting on the bed to set the tablet against the wall so I can uncap the coconut water and sip it. “We’re not dating, Granny. He’s not my man.”

“Pssshaw!” Granny waves her hand right into the camera, making it look six times larger than her head.

Also, at light speed. “You can’t tell me that’s not the reason you’re calling.

I know you’ve come to your old Gran for advice.

I also know you. You’re old-timey about things like this.

You like to lose your heart first before you bang. ”

“Granny!” It’s official. I called her for this punishment, but now I’m about to stroke out.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

Irene’s voice cuts in again. I don’t think she’s been sitting there the whole time, and there meaning the lounge area or games room and not Granny’s room, but I can hear her in the background now. “Who’s banging who?”

“My granddaughter is banging her millionaire, billionaire, trillionaire, zillionaire boss. He’s her ex’s dad too.”

“Oh, Mylanta!”

Oh, myfuckinglanta is right.

“What’s this world coming to?” Irene wants to know.

“It’s coming to awesomeness, that’s what!

” Granny informs her. “I say, good for her. The man is fashionable, kind, and has good taste in cars. He’s also got a solid head on his shoulders and a heaping dose of kindness in his heart.

You remember how those mafia thugs almost killed us?

He was the one who paid them off. Don’t feel bad for his son.

He’s a little brat who needs a spanking in the worst way.

Refer to my previous statement on mafia thugs. ”

“Oh, Mylanta,” Irene breathes again.

“I don’t think they were mafia,” I protest before Granny can go spinning yarns. The situation was bad enough without her going for dramatic effect. “I think they were just thugs.”

“Mafia thugs,” she insists. “And if that’s what you’re choosing to negate in that entire sentence, then I know I’m correct.”

“That’s the thing. You’re right. It’s why I’m calling.”

She lets out a wild banshee squeal that is probably going to have the staff at the retirement home come running. “Because you haven’t banged your boss yet, but you’re going to?”

“Land sakes, he’s also her boss?”

“That’s right. I said it, Irene, but I can see how you’d get information overload. He’s the total package.”

“Lucky girl. You know where to find me if things go wrong. Or at least, he does.”

Granny and Irene’s cackling is so loud and violent that it distorts the screen.