Page 50 of RomeAntically Challenged
“You laugh, but I’ve got this covered. I’m looking at this like an assignment.”
“You already mentioned step one. Research.”
“Yes.” He was beyond pleased that she’d remembered. “And working with her will allow me to, step two, connect with the subject. Being on the committee allows me to, step three, watch her in her natural environment so I can, step four, show up prepared.”
“I see,” she said, but her smirk said all she saw was this plan blowing up in his face.
It was true, he knew jack shit about glitter and color themes, but Paisley asked him every few months to redecorate her room, so what better way to connect? Plus, how hard could it be to decorate a gym? Streamers, balloons, maybe a disco ball.
Piece of cake.
“Now, if I can just get her to wear clothes that aren’t made of dental floss and lace—oh,keeping her away from guys who are too old to be looking her way, so I can sleep nights, would be nice.”
“Wow, I never thought what it must be like for guys likeyouto have a daughter.”
“Guys likemeget offended when people likeyoulump us in with assholes,” he said. “But I get your point. Today at the high school, most of the boys were huddled in groups talking about the girls, the girls were talking to their friends about the boys, and neither side had a clue as to how this dance is played out. But then there was this one guy who thought he was hot shit.”
“I take it he was the ‘too-old-for-my-daughter’ guy you mentioned earlier?” She covered her mouth to hide her laugh. “I’m sorry, but this is just too good not to laugh. Plus, you never know, he might be a nice kid.”
“Oh, he isn’t, trust me. Nice guys don’t look at nice girls the way he was looking at P, with me standing ten feet away.” Emmitt didn’t need to meet the guy to know what he was after, because Emmitt had been that guy. Hated to admit that, most of the time, he still was.
It had been in second grade when May Chen shared her rice crispy treat with him that he’d realized he had a way with girls. The next day she brought him one shaped like a heart, and every day after until her parents relocated to Idaho.
A flip was switched that day, and for Emmitt there was no going back.
His mother taught him to be respectful of women, to remember that they were all someone’s sister or daughter. Emmitt didn’t have a sister, but now he had a daughter and he wondered if this was karma playing at irony.
Paisley was hitting an age when she’d start dating guys—guys who thought like he did, charmed girls like he did, and broke hearts the way he did.
“God, I’m screwed.” He looked at Annie, who was finding a hell of a lot of humor in his situation. “I’m serious. The way she acted today, the attitude and clothes. God, the lost look when talking about her mom. It gutted me.”
The humor faded and her eyes grew tender and warm. Once again, she reached out to touch his hand, to comfort him. “She’ll get through whatever this is. Losing her mom at such an important age is hard and will be a huge struggle for her. But a lot of what you’re worried about is just Paisley being a normal, emotionally charged teenager.”
“This is normal?” he choked out, and God help him, he hoped she was joking. Because if this was normal teenage behavior, then he still had a few years of it to struggle through.
“Yes, and I promise you’ll survive,” Annie said, showing him her sweet side, which was a nice treat.
“How did your dad do it?”
“He loved me for who I was in that exact moment. When you’re loved like that, you don’t have to worry about letting anyone down,” she said, a warm glow lighting her face.
Emmitt pictured her as a little girl, all her dolls lined up in order, her quiet sweetness lighting her smile and imagined she would have been easy to love.
“That’s what I want for Paisley.”
His kid deserved that kind of love, but Emmitt had a thing about disappointing others. He’d been disillusioned so many times over the years, especially his younger years, that he went to great lengths to avoid being that guy to someone else.
Bottom line: He didn’t want to be somebody’s disappointment.
“I’m pretty sure she has it, she’s just too emotional right now to realize it,” Annie said.
“I hope you’re right,” he said, then he opened a cabinet, expecting to find his serving bowls and instead found pots and pans.
“It’s more logical to put pots and pans on the bottom, because they’re heavier.” She bit her lower lip, then looked across the island at him, those dark brown eyes filled with a mix of guilt and sass. He wondered how they’d look if he leaned over and just kissed her.
Before he could answer that question, she slid off the stool and walked over to a cabinet to the right of the stove. “Serving bowls should go next to the stove so when you’re ready to serve, you just lean over and grab.”
She opened the door and,voilà, all his bowls, platters, and even some white modern-looking dishes he didn’t recognize were stacked nice and neat. She did the game show girl thing with her hand, looking mighty proud of her handiwork.
