RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,43
He uses his words—”
“Oh, trust me.” I scowled. “I know he uses his words, he needs someone to staple his mouth shut. The point is, he deserved it, and I don’t want him to press charges.” I licked my dry lips. “Dad, you didn’t fire him after the wedding even though I begged you to. I don’t want to work with him, I don’t even want to see his face.” My chest felt heavy with each confession. “Since you’re his boss, you have pull. Can you please just tell him not to press charges?”
Dad frowned. “Do you know if he did?”
“No. But I do know he was angry.”
“Honey, he was punched in the face by two men. Of course he was angry—your date was a man, right?”
I narrowed my eyes. “As opposed to a turtle?”
“No.” He laughed awkwardly. “I just meant, after Alton, if it were a . . . woman.” His face turned serious. “That would be okay.”
“Thanks? I think?” I gave my head a shake. “But it was a man, an attractive man—we’re getting off topic. I just need you to talk with Alton, let him know it would reflect badly, or could reflect badly, on us.” It wouldn’t, but I was hoping that would at least help sway him.
Dad stood. “Honey, I understand your concern, but if Alton wants to press charges, I’m not going to stop him just because you want to protect some punks who don’t know how to fight like men.”
“But—”
“Topic closed.” He smiled like it wasn’t a big deal that he was basically choosing Alton over my needs or wants—again. Playing favorites . . . or at least that’s what it felt like. Why was I suddenly remembering all the times I had to compete with Alton for my dad’s attention? For the accolades that made me think I needed to do whatever it took to be part of the boys’ club.
I’d begged my dad to fire him or at the very least put him in a different department after Alton left me at the altar, but my dad said keeping Alton was business, not personal. I was making it personal.
Of course it was personal! He. Left. Me.
And while I appreciated my dad’s strong business sense, sometimes a girl just needs a hug, she needs to be told it’s okay to make it personal! I loved my dad but he wasn’t acting like my father, he was acting like a shrewd business owner, which was a side of him I rarely saw or maybe just refused to acknowledge.
“Dad.” My eyes filled with tears.
He pulled me into his arms. “Trust me, things will look better once you get some sleep. Are you staying the night?”
“No.” I jerked out of his embrace, possibly for the first time in my life. His look was a mixture of confusion and hurt. “I’ll just take another Uber home.”
I walked past him. I held my tears in.
And two minutes later when my car pulled up.
I felt those tears slide down my cheeks and drip off my chin.
Fight for me.
I closed my eyes.
I wanted someone—someone to fight for me. Not try to do what was best for me.
A vision of Slade slammed into my consciousness.
He might be a lot of things.
But when I’d needed him most.
He threw a punch.
Even if he said things he shouldn’t.
I appreciated that punch more than he’d ever know.
“Hey!” I snapped out of my sadness. “Can we stop somewhere really quick, I’ll tip?”
“Where to?” the driver called back.
I fired off Slade’s address and prayed he’d still be up.
I didn’t really have a plan.
Other than a thank-you hug.
And . . . something?
I told my driver I’d be five minutes.
I knocked on the door twice.
Nothing.
And then two barks.
Cursing.
I smiled just as the door opened, revealing a shirtless Slade and low-slung sweats on what could only be described as the V straight from heaven.
I should have taken that bottle of wine from my parents’.
“Hi, hey, hi.” I said hi twice, didn’t I?
He frowned. “Are you drunk?”
“What?” I gave my head a shake. “No, do I look drunk?”
“You said hi twice.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t catch that.”
“Too obvious not to catch but cute that you’re holding onto hope like that . . .” His lips twitched into a small grin while I narrowed my eyes.
“You’re making this harder than it should be.” I crossed my arms.
“And you make me harder than I should be. And yet, here I am.” He crossed his arms.