Page 10 of Hearts of Fairlake

"Grandma B reminds me of Chase," she said, squinting at the screen and tapping her mouse.

I choked on my coffee, struggling to swallow it before finding the air to speak. "That...is a comparison that will not make either of them happy."

"Who is this Chase?" Beatrice asked with a frown, clearly sensing the insult coming but unsure what angle it would swoop in from.

Someone who would be incredibly pissed at the comparison, but I wasn't going to point that out. If Ayla opened her mouth to start something with her grandmother, I wouldn't try to stop her. She was just a couple of months shy of being an adult, and she'd long since been capable of standing toe totoe with seasoned adults in a battle of wits. Ever since she was thirteen, and had told a substitute teacher precisely why she wasn't going be doing a required pledge of allegiance in the morning and that, no, she did not care if she got in trouble or if said substitute decided to call her parents.

Which had been delightful for me, considering I was listed as a guardian by the school, and Ian had been out on a call and couldn't get away. At first, I’d been touched that I was considered a good replacement, though the school wasn't nearly as happy. After hearing about everything, I'd informed them that the practice was outdated, that requiring it of students was ridiculous, and even more ridiculous was punishing a student for it. The substitute had also been heard commenting on Ayla's mixed heritage via a snarky comment about how her parents might not be from this country, but you showed proper respect in this country.

Well, needless to say, the school had dropped the issue, and the substitute teacher, for fear of the hell I promised to rain down on them. Then there was the English teacher in her Freshman year who accused her of reading inappropriate books in class, which had also been fun for me when I discovered that it was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, deemed inappropriate by the teacher because of its language. When Ayla tried to point out that the book had been required reading only a couple of days before and that taking the language out of context was ignorant...well, I had another call on my hands.

There was the boy she had punched when he decided to try to pull her shirt down. On one of those rare moments, she wore a slightly low-cut shirt and was told she should wear more 'appropriate' attire. Ian had taken that one, and when we received a call about her telling her art teacher that she was an idiot for thinking there was only one right way to do art, the school seemed relieved when I showedup. I wasn't sure what Ian had done to those administrators, but it had to be something that would make them glad to see me.

So yes, our little 'problem child' could handle herself when she was prepared to put up a fight.

"You've met him," Ayla said, still keeping her eyes on the screen. "He's the head mechanic down at the shop."

Beatrice stared at her momentarily, blinking so slowly that it absurdly made me think of a lizard before her lips thinned. "That brutish man you spend all of your time with?"

"It's not all my time," Ayla scoffed. "Just when I'm working there."

"Why an adult man would want a teenage girl around him all the?—"

"He's a homo, not a molester," Ayla corrected, and I could hear the edge of protectiveness in her voice. It wasn't like Chaseneededto be protected. God knew the guy could probably offend Beatrice more thoroughly in ten minutes than I’d done in the past five years. It was just that she didn't like anyone talking badly about the people she cared about.

"And I'm sure he would love to be referred to in such a coarse manner," Beatrice chided, which I immediately knew was a mistake.

"This from the woman who was on her way to inferring, if not outright saying, that he was trying to sleep with an underage girl," Ayla said, finally looking at her grandmother sharply. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I should take back that comparison. Chase can sometimes be grumpy and downright mean, but he's not cruel or spiteful. And he actually has a heart."

"Ayla Isabelle Reiner," Beatrice chided with wide eyes.

"I had my middle name changed two years ago," Ayla said, glancing toward me before closing her laptop. "So if you're going to try to yell at me like I'm a child, then at least havethe decency not to use the middle name my egg donor forced on me."

Beatrice's face tightened, but I could see it wasn't out of anger...but confusion. I knew I shouldn't take pity on her, but I did all the same, reminding her. "Mia."

"What was that?" Beatrice asked blandly.

"Ayla Mia Reiner," I said, spinning the simple band around my ring finger. Neither Ian nor I had seen the point of having a complex wedding band when our jobs could be rough and scuff them up anyway. "She took my mother's middle name for hers."

And no, I was notstillemotional about that decision. Just like I had not cried when she’d come home with Ian from the court after I'd had one hell of a stressful and miserable day. She had been nervous and fidgety when she stood before me to hand over the paperwork with her new name. I still remembered how I'd stared at the paper in shock as Ian stood in the doorway, letting the moment happen between Ayla and me. My mother had joked, after finding me with another guy, that the chances of her family middle name getting passed down had dropped even lower, but there was Ayla, taking the name willingly.

"Heading out?" I asked as she shoved her laptop into her bag.

"I'm going to find somewhere to call Kam. I've been putting him off for the past few days, and if I don't call him, he's going to show up in Fairlake and hunt me down," she said with a roll of her eyes, "again."

"Tonight's a sandwich night. Otherwise, let us know if you're coming back," I told her as she walked toward the door, hesitated, and leaned over to give me a one-armed hug. I smiled, kissing the top of her head and making her wrinkle her nose before backing up toward the front door. Her brow was still furrowed as she signed that she was sorry for themess she was leaving and that she loved me. She waited until I shook my head and told her I loved her and to flee while she could.

"You aren't going to give her a curfew? Ask where she'll be, and she stays out as she pleases?" Beatrice asked, clearly having recovered from the 'shock' of being insulted.

"She will be a legal adult in a couple of months. There's no point in suddenly trying to restrain her. She has her phone with her, and there's a dozen places she can go if she wants some peace and quiet away from the house," I said, setting my empty mug on the counter. "Despite what you think, she's capable of taking care of herself."

"Don't think I am unaware of how much trouble she got into at school," Beatrice said sourly.

"Yes, and last I recall, nothing serious came of it, and no legal trouble. And she also had the second-highest GPA of her graduating class," I said wryly. "As well as working part-time and taking college courses for the credits."

Of course, that part-time job was with Chase down at the shop, which meant there was no way in hell she would get away with slacking or misbehaving at school or work, which suited Ayla just fine. She had never been an actual troublemaker...she just wasn't shy about standing up to trouble if it came knocking on her door.

Another knock at the door brought confusion about who could be rolling up to the house so early, considering Beatrice was already here. Only to snort at the wrinkled, pleasant face waiting for me. "Dad, what the hell are you doing up this early?"

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