Page 30 of Adrift

Better yet, why was I still thinking about her breasts hours later?

Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time I’d noticed her curves. You’d have to be blind not to–they were unapologetically obvious and undeniably alluring.

But that didn’t mean I was comfortable with anyone else looking at them.

It boiled my blood when I saw Ryan ogling her on Sunday. I about decked him for his comment to her about being a wonderful interruption or whatever the fuck he said. I could tell he made her feel uncomfortable. And what the hell was he on about, referring to her relationship with Sonia? That was none of his fucking business.

The only reason I kept my hands fisted at my sides was because I was battling my own reaction inside my head. A part of me wanted to shove that smirk right off his face as he spoke to her like she was going to be his next meal, while the other part of me wondered if I was just reading it all wrong. I certainly don’t remember him being as much of a douchebag before. Maybe he was just being friendly, and I was getting worked up over nothing.

So, since I can’t voice my ridiculous non-complaints to anyone, especially not to Olivia, I stick to my original response: Can’t fucking complain!

“That’s good to hear.” She snaps her fingers, getting my attention. “Oh, I forgot to ask again! Will you be coming over for Greg’s surprise party this Friday night?”

Crap. I’d forgotten about that. “Uh–”

“I know you have Arman, but maybe your nan–uh, your sister-in-law–could pitch in for a night? Or maybe your mom could help out?” Olivia sounds breathless walking beside me.

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked either of them.”

“Darian, you know how much Greg and I care about you. It would mean so much to us if you were there. Plus, you haven’t done anything with anyone lately. I know you’re a single dad, and I really respect how much you’ve had to do over the past year on your own, but it’s Greg’s fortieth birthday. Please come, even if it's just for an hour.”

She’s right. It’s not every day that she begs me to leave my son and mingle at a party. She knows how hard that is for me. But Greg and Olivia–along with the rest of the small team here–have truly been the support I’ve needed to run this place. They’ve dropped vacation plans and days off to help fill in for me when Arman was sick or if I just needed a day. I can’t not celebrate a big day for them when they need me.

But Mom and Dad leave town this Saturday for a week away. After not seeing her sister for almost a year, Mom made plans to go visit her in Seattle. Asking her to babysit Arman the night before her very early morning flight doesn’t seem like the right decision.

I take my cap off my head and run my hand through my hair, thinking about asking Rani to cover for me. She’d offered to take care of Arman as I needed, even on the weekends, but based on the ass I made of myself in front of her last Friday night, I’m not sure that offer is still on the table. Still, it’s not something Olivia needs to worry about. “Let me see if I can line up some help. No promises, though.”

Olivia’s hand lands on my bicep as she eyes me hopefully. “You know, you can even bring Arman with you. Violet will be there if you need help with him.”

Um, no thanks.

Gently, I move my arm away. Olivia had a tendency to push and not necessarily know when to stop. “Thanks. I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Getting back to my office, I pull my phone out of my pocket when I get a doorbell notification from the security system I’d installed a few months ago at the house. I flip on the camera to see who’s at the door, thinking it’s probably a solicitor or a Girl Scout asking if we want to order cookies. Instead, I notice a tall, lanky guy with bright curly hair.

A few seconds later, Rani opens the door and I hear her chirpy voice. “Hey! I thought I was going to meet you at the park . . .. Did I misunderstand your text?”

Scrawny guy smiles at her before he shrugs sheepishly. “No, you didn’t. I hope it’s okay, though. I left a little earlier and thought I’d come pick you guys up so we could walk there together.”

Rani looks back at something inside before opening the door a tad. My hackles rise when I see the guy step toward her. Is he going to follow her in?

“Give me a second. I need to get Arman’s shoes on.” I hear Rani say. “I want to take him on the swings today and let him try walking around a bit.”

Thankfully, she closes the door while the guy waits outside. I watch as he runs his hand over his face, as if he’s frustrated or second-guessing himself. He peers down at something and I notice a leash in his hand, though I can’t see what–or who–is attached to it. He weakly commands it something like ‘sit’ or ‘stay’ before the door opens again, and Rani walks out with my son in a stroller.

I watch as she locks the door before turning to the guy, giving him a lingering smile. Scrawny guy helps her hoist Arman’s stroller over the steps before they leave my porch and the camera goes idle.

Huh. That’s interesting. I’m not sure what to make of the entire event, but I sure have a bunch of new questions floating around in my head. Like, when did she meet this guy? Who the hell is he? And why did she give him her number? Is he who she was out with all last weekend? I thought she was going to the nursing home . . .. And why are these questions making me feel murderous? Perhaps that’s too extreme of a word. Perhaps a better word is uncomfortable . . . unsettled.

Nope. Still feeling murderous.

Not able to stop myself, I flip to my messages and bring up my conversation with Rani.

Me: Who was the guy at the door? I got an alert from the security system.

I wait a few minutes, occupying my hands and mind by opening up the new insurance policy updates I received in my email to read over and sign.

Rani: Well, hello to you, too! I’m fine. Thanks for asking!

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