Page 84 of Unexpected Redemption

My head rears back, shock smacking me upside the forehead. “For what?”

“I haven’t... uh.” He folds his lips into his mouth, then drags his hand down his face again. “I haven’t done enough to get to know you yet. And I’m sorry for that. I’ll do better.”

“Well, thanks for sayin’ that, but an apology ain’t necessary. You don’t owe me nothin’.”

Well, butter my biscuit. I didn’t think I was irritated by his treatment, but perhaps I am, given the spontaneous appearance of my twang.

“Yeah, but?—”

Opting to make peace over this, I interrupt him. “Big Al, I get that this is a rough time for you and your company. I had no expectations for how this would go. I sort of feel like we’re making the best of a weird situation.”

He does thatlook through mething again.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to knock that shit off unless he’s gonna pay a deposit for the room he wants to rent in my head. However, smarting off to my birth father, who is also my employer, probably isn’t a good idea. Occasionally, I listen to my own good advice.

“I heard you refer to me asBoss Dadthe other day.”

Again with the lane changes sans blinker. This man is a danger on the road. Someone needs to revoke his license.

“It was something I thought was funny to say. Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

He flashes his palms at me. “No, it’s not that. I liked it.”

A brewing giggle makes my cheek hurt until I set it free. “What?”

“It’s been awkward not knowing how to refer to each other. I can’t force a connection out of nowhere, but hearing it... I don’t know. It made me feel a little closer to you in a small way.”

My filter completely malfunctions. “Is that why you gave me this job? To feel closer without actually getting closer?”

He glances at his chest, fidgeting with his shirt. “Maddie accused me of the same thing.”

“I’m sorry. I was out of line to ask that. You don’t need to answer. Most of the time, whatever’s in my head comes barreling out before I have a chance to think better of it. I’m working on fixin’ that.”

“It’s an entirely fair question.” He finally meets my eyes again. “I don’t know the answer, but I don’t regret asking you to fill in for Peg. I’m glad you’re working here. Aside from getting to know you, I think you’re doing a fantastic job. Few too many trips to the copy room, but a fine job, nonetheless.”

My cheeks warm with a surge of blood.Immediately changing the subject, I ask, “What was the other thing you wanted to discuss before we head to the lair?”

“Tomer.”

The speed of my pen clicking sharply increases. “What about him?”

His nose wrinkles. “Is he, um... is he okay?”

For once, I bite my tongue instead of screaming out my knee-jerk response:Go down the hall and ask him yourself so he knows you give a flippity fark about him!

While counting to ten, I clip my pen on the cover of my notepad and stand. After a deep breath, I meet him squarely inthe eyes and let the sentiment loose anyhow. “Maybe you should ask him that yourself. Perhaps he’d like to know that you still give a shit about him. Call it a hunch.”

I march toward the door, making it clear I won’t be a messenger girl. He needs to work out his shit with Tomer. I love that he cares, but it’s not good enough for me to know.

Tomer needs to hear Big Al’s concern far more than I do.

And my hormones are kicking up enough to make me defensive as hell over the man who’s been treated like shit for most his life. Maybe he wouldn’t have drawn out his lie for quite so long if he knew he was valuable and worth loving even if he makes mistakes.

Argh. Men and their emotional constipation.

When I get to the door, I check to see if Big Al is following. He isn’t. Just sitting there, staring straight ahead at the spot I was standing. Looking like he’s trying to figure out who knocked him down and stole his teeth.

It was me. And I’m shoving them in my pocket. He can have them back when he learns to act right.

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