Page 74 of Their Little Helper

Nope.

But we got there after a while and I was eternally grateful for the fact that we closed early on Sundays. It was normally an easy shift with couples going on one last date for the weekend or singles psyching themselves up for the week, but it’d been wall-to-wall people for hours.

Most of the time I actually liked seeing the assortment of patrons we got because it was a true mix of genders and sexuality and personalities, but it’d been so busy I hadn’t been able to check my phone in hours and I’d missed dinner and I was tired of frowning.

It was really hard being a boring grown-up but I’d tried to be regular me when I’d first started working at bars and that hadn’t been a good decision at all. It made everyone nervous and they worried and it hadn’t been a good fit for a bar.

But badass me was great for the bar, it’d just taken me a while to find the right book characters to model my bar-self after.

I could almost let bar-self go, though, because it was finally empty and I was ready to escape, so I felt safe smiling when I checked my phone and saw Daddy’s texts.

Some people shouldn’t get married.

She’s nuts. She’s beyond the hot-to-crazy scale and he’s stupid.

Oh. I think he’s sleeping with the best man.

Oops. Yep he’s sleeping with the best man.

Good grief. She’s sleeping with him too.

She should know not to have sex once she’s gotten her makeup and hair done. She’s crazy and stupid.

After a while, the tone of his texts shifted and I had to fight back laughter.

You know…when we get married we should have one of us pretend to be the best man and interrupt the ceremony to demand that we both marry him since we’re in love. I think I’d do good at that role. What do you think about marrying Santos so I can object at your wedding?

My first thought was that his mother would be very angry with us for a stunt like that. From everything he’d said about her, she had lots of patience, but I was pretty sure that would push hers too far.

I wasn’t sure if it was too late to answer him, but I decided to anyway.

I’m pretty sure your mother would kill us if we did that.

His reply only took seconds.

Ugh. Great plans ruined by people with no sense of humor.

As I debated warning Papa about Daddy’s idea, he switched topics.

How was work? Did you have to frown too much? Any problems after firing that idiot? Did you forget to have dinner? You said you were going to call when you could fit in a break. I’m not good at being forgotten. I’m going to need extra attention to make up for it.

I was a pretty fast texter and had managed to keep my nosy Daddy updated on work stuff for the first half of my shift, but it seemed like he didn’t appreciate the radio silence on the last half of it. I started typing out an apology, but when I paused to decide if I had the mental reserves to figure out how to flirt and say something sexy, his next message popped up on my screen.

Never mind. One sec.

What did that mean?

He’d already driven Papa nuts by admitting to texting both of us while he’d been on the toilet, so what was he doing?

Okay five secs. Some people are idiots.

Who were the idiots?

Was Daddy still at his family’s house?

Wasn’t it too late for that?

Sunday night was evidently family dinner night and he was already on thin ice with his mother because he’d skipped most of it because the wedding had gone long with all the drama. Was his family the idiots in question?

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