Page 11 of Imperfect Arrangement
“Look, people come here for a once-in-a-lifetime experience,” Decent Joe continues, revealing he’s a damn good salesman beneath that friendly face. “And for the crowd here?” He tips his head toward the onlookers gathered around us. “Well, they get a little thrill too, betting on how long it’ll be before the wheel starts up again this time. All harmless fun.”
He glances at his watch, then back at me with a calm smile that’s entirely unfazed by my murderous expression. “So how about you wait another twenty-five minutes. I promise your daughter will be back here by then. And if she’s with Willow, trust me, she’s probably having the time of her life up there.”
For the first time since this guy started his little happy-go-lucky monologue, my anger simmers down. He finally said something that hit a nerve. Quill’s actually having the time of her life, just not with me. No, she’s up there with a stranger who has zero respect for me and sees me as her personal nemesis.
“You actually think I’m going to stand here and wait for something to go wrong with my kid up there?” I ask, voice barely holding steady.
“But that’s exactly what I’m telling you, man. Nothing’s going to happen?—”
“Do you or do you not have a damn rescue plan for this malfunctioning death trap?” I snap.
Decent Joe sighs, like I’m the one being unreasonable here. “We don’t need a rescue plan. All we need is a little patience.”
Patience? The hell with patience.
I spin around, pulling out my phone and stepping away from this bizarre crowd that thinks a risky ride is just a good laugh.
My assistant, Donna, answers on the second ring.
“I need the chopper,” I say, pacing as the adrenaline surges through me.
“Where to?” she asks, already typing. I can hear her quick clicks on the keyboard, probably firing off a message to the pilot.
“Center of town. It’s a rescue. Quill’s at the very top of the Ferris wheel, and the damn thing is stalled.” I swallow against the tightness in my chest; saying it out loud only made it worse.
Donna’s typing hesitates for a second. “Did you talk to Decent Joe?”
“Yeah, and the guy couldn’t care less about my daughter’s safety.”
If Joe’s right and this Ferris wheel is some kind of local landmark, Donna probably knows all about it. But I’m not about to leave Quill’s well-being up to town folklore and good vibes.
“The pilot’s en route,” she replies without missing a beat. Just before I hang up, her voice softens. “Raymond, I get you’re worried, and I’m not stopping you from doing whatever you think is right. But that ride is safe. Quill’s going to be okay.”
I don’t argue with her. I brace myself for the one thing that tests me like nothing else—waiting while my daughter’s in danger.
A RESCUE MISSION
WILLOW
“Where did you find Captain Lick?” Quill asks, her eyes alight with curiosity.
When she squealed out her first words, I thought that was it—just one little moment. But dang, it’s like this kid flipped some invisible switch in her voice box, and now it’s question after question. Not that I’m complaining.
“Captain Lick was a puppy when my mom found him at the shelter where she volunteers. He’s been moody since day one. If he wants something, he doesn’t take no for an answer.” I smile as Quill’s tiny hand slips through the opening in the bag to pet Captain Lick’s soft fur.
“He’s so—” She stops when the air around us vibrates with a loud, rumbling sound, like someone decided to trim the clouds with a chainsaw.
My head snaps to the side, searching for the source of the noise. “What the heck?” I mutter, shielding my eyes against the sun.
It’s a freaking helicopter, hovering way too low, almost at eye level. Cherrywood isn’t exactly a hotbed of aerial activity, so this is definitely making tomorrow’s gossip rounds. I can already picture my friend Violet, probably perched on some rooftop right now like Lois Lane, trying to get a scoop.
“Where do you think it’s going?” Quill asks, pointing at the red chopper that seems to be heading straight for us.
“Who knows, but there’s no shortage of rich guys around here trying to show off.” My mind immediately conjures up a particularly aggravating billionaire—Raymond Teager.
Quill nods, like she totally gets what I mean. I freaking love this kid.
I’ve always been clear about two things—no kids, no marriage. I watched my mom put herself through hell in an abusive marriage, all because she thought it would be better for me to have a father around. This lifetime won’t be enough time for me to work through that guilt.
