Just So Far Away, page 10
Fuck. He really is a better man in every way.
Marc calls out to my son, “Alright C-Man. It's story time and bed. Say goodnight to your dad.”
I drop my mouth in objection when Winnie adds, “Yup. Say goodnight, Colt.”
Giving her a pleading look, I whisper, “It's been like twenty minutes.”
She merely repeats herself, “Say goodnight, Colt.”
His small lip slips out as he crawls into my lap. The feeling of his tiny arms around me clogs my throat with unshed tears. Rather than raise hell, knowing it'll make Winnie more reluctant to let me see him sooner rather than later, I simply hug him tight.
“Night, Daddy...” Colt whispers.
“Night, Colt,” I whisper back. “Daddy promises to come back and see you again soon.”
“Tomorrow?” his quiet beg tightens my chest.
“Soon, big guy.” Leaning back to look him in our matching eyes, I assure him, “Real soon.”
“Come on.” Marc encourages with a wave of his hand. “Let's pick out a couple books while Mommy locks the door.”
Colt crawls out of my lap, waves goodbye to me and Teagan before meeting up with Marc.
I wait until the two of them are out of ear shot, stand up, and snap, “Next time I pay you, I expect more than twenty fucking minutes.”
She flies to her feet. “Next time you go to jail, I want more than two hundred bucks to cover the cost of living for your son!”
Feeling the control I have over my anger beginning to fleet, I'm thankful when Teagan invades the conversation, standing as well. “Winnie, how much is it going to cost for Isaac to see his son regularly?”
She glares at me before turning to talk to Teagan. “Define regularly.”
“Let's say a couple hours, a couple times a week in the beginning. That seem fair to you?”
Fair to her?! What the fuck does it matter if it's fair to her? What about fair to me? To Colt? What? Fine. I'll let her negotiate...Not like I have a choice for fuck’s sake. Couldn't afford to take this shit to the court and would probably lose worse there.
Winnie folds her arms across her chest. “A hundred bucks will get him a couple hours once a week. Two hundred a couple hours twice a week. All times are around my schedule and Marc's. No overnights or whole weekends. At least not yet.” Her attention shoots to me. “You start paying and helping provide regularly, get a real job, a fucking phone, and that might change. As much as I hate it's you that's Colt's father, he loves you and he....misses you.”
The weight of the words forces my knees to slightly buckle.
“Okay,” Teagan agrees more cheerfully than she should. “I'll let Isaac use my cell and call you tomorrow after you've had a chance to look at your schedule and decide on another good time for a visit.”
Winnie smugly looks at me. “You've just got another hundred bucks laying around or is your sugar mama over here just that desperate for your dick, she'll pay anything to keep you around?”
I strain every muscle in my body as my breath vanishes.
It's at times like this I wish Tee were just a little more....aggressive. Let her bitch slap Winnie for being one.
“Winnie!” Marc calls saving the conversation from getting uglier.
“Coming!” She yells back. With a vicious smile, she says to me, “We'll be in touch.”
In a low growl, I guarantee, “You bet your ass we will be.”
The two of us escort ourselves out the front door and back to Teagan's car. Our drive out of the neighborhood is in pure silence, yet the moment we arrive at the first stop light, something inside of me breaks.
“I'm gonna earn every fucking penny you gave her tonight,” my assurance is quiet but firm. “And the money you plan on fronting me for the next visit.” Before she has a chance to argue, I face her, and state, “I meant what I said earlier. Dishes. Yard. Light bulbs. Laundry. Whatever the fuck you need, I'll do. And when I get a job, I'll pay you back every. Fucking. Cent.”
To my surprise, Teagan smiles softly, folds her hand with mine and doesn't argue.
I don't exactly have much to fucking offer, but whatever the fuck she needs from me she can have it. Any time. Any day. It's the very least I can fucking do for all she's giving me.
I fiddle with my locket while Colleen continues to ramble.
If I had it my way she would be at her own desk instead of mine. It's not that I don't enjoy the mid-morning round up of office gossip, it's just there's a report on the influence of colors associated with a person’s appetite that I'm anxious to finish reading. What? That doesn't sound exciting to you?
“According to Daryl, they're all pretty annoyed with this latest round of projects they've been given. Even debating about talking to Mr. Wilder about having you 'reassess the facts' in hopes they can land something more fun.” Colleen leans forward in the chair. “Maria let it slip she was hoping the eatable anal cream would make it.”
I scrunch my face in irritation. “First of all that project would've been like collecting pennies, nothing prosperous. Second, the number of trial runs that product had that failed with FDA were so alarming, people would be better off eating Crisco during their escapades.”
Colleen chuckles.
“Third, they can complain all they want. I'm good at my job. I get paid to put projects in their laps that put those zeroes they love so much on their bonuses.” Leaning back in my seat, I snip, “I don't make mistakes. I make money.”
All of sudden there's movement outside of my office window. As expected, Isaac is uncomfortably waiting to come in, his cold face immediately warming at the sight of me.
He's not a mistake. And yes he does cost me money, but it's my money to spend. Why should I feel bad for helping someone get back on their feet? What's so wrong with that? And if I thought he was taking advantage of me, I would stop. Er...At least I assume I would stop. Might be in such a constant sex haze I'm mumbling my pin number in my sleep.
“I'll remind them of that next time we're all having sushi and they wanna play Tab Roulette,” she giggles and gives her brown hair a ruffle. “Oh! And speaking of lunch, what do you want me to grab you today?”
I motion my head towards him. “It's already being delivered to me.”
Colleen quickly snaps her head around and grins mischievously. “I didn't know sex delivered.” Her comment burns my cheeks as she beckons, “You can come in!”
He cautiously makes his way inside my office with a folder and a brown sack. “Afternoon.”
“Afternoon,” she snickers again and stands up. Colleen tosses me a final look. “Well since your lunch is here, I'm going to go ahead and grab something for myself.” I watch her make her away around him. Once she's there she mouths at me, “Yum-my.”
Heat flushes my face a second time and Isaac questions, “You okay?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod.
'Bout all I can do at this moment. He is yummy...and even yummier naked.
His suspicious look deepens. “What did Colleen say to make your face do that?”
Sitting up straight in my chair, I try to remain innocent. “Do what?”
“That.” He points. “Your cheeks are this deep red color. Your lip swells from your nibbling. And your breathing is harsher. It's the same reaction you get when you look at me naked.”
Or think about him naked.
“Did you see Colleen naked?” The playfulness is met with a sarcastic expression. “'Cause I'll admit. I've witnessed and been a part of girl on girl shit. Not opposed.”
“I'm sure you're not.”
“Hey, if it makes you happy, that's all that matters,” he chuckles, twisting his black baseball cap around.
Yes that's new, as are those jeans. I had Colleen do a little shopping a couple weeks ago for us, the same day she bought Colt his puzzle. I waited to give him those things until we were back at my place and as you can probably guess, he was a little pissed. Well. A lot of pissed. Between the new clothes, me buying him lunch, and paying for him to see his kid he was a rage filled, tattooed beast. Thankfully, what I've learned is a pissed off Isaac is a horny Isaac. Didn't sleep much that night and worked from home the next day. At least I tried to work from home. He didn't let me get much of that done either until the box of condoms was empty. Then and only then did I really get anything work related done while he took it upon himself to sweep away dead leaves off the back patio.
He sets the brown bag on the corner of the desk. “Sandwiches. Philly cheese steak for you, extra cheese, bag of potato chips and a double fudge chocolate chip brownie. Decided to grab 'em from Donnie's on 3rd. Along with an application.” He tosses the folder in front of me. “There are six more applications filled out in there for you to look over before I'll make my way around this afternoon to turn them in. Oh, and I dropped off your dry cleaning. They said it would be ready around three so I'll grab it on my way back here.”
Not my idea to have him do errands like that. All his. He also makes sure our clothes at home are constantly washed, dried, hung and or folded before properly putting them away. There was plenty of space in my closet for his new clothes to share with mine. He objected at first, saying he had no problem putting them in a guest room, but I assured him that was a waste of space.
“And you remembered to use blue or black ink this time? Not red?”
The frustrated look on his face when he realized the first three applications he filled out were in the wrong color rendering them practically useless resulted in him sweeping the entire kitchen after shredding the paper. I proceeded the entire situation with a hand job, which calmed him down tremendously. Turns out, I'm pretty good at those.
“Yeah. Some mistakes I really do learn from the first time,” he sighs as he drops down into the seat Colleen was just occupying.
I open the folder and begin to skim the applications. His barely legible hand writing causes me to smirk.
It's been that way since I've known him. According to the handwriting analysis because he's right handed and his writing slants slightly to the left, he's known to be rebellious. Funny how I didn't need a report to know that little fact, huh?
“Couple of dish washer jobs. Merchandise stocking.” The defeated tone lifts my eyes to meet his. “Fuck, anything at this point, Tee. I'll take anything.” Sensing the next words out of my mouth he self corrects, “That is legal and keeps me away from the old bullshit.”
I give him an encouraging smile. “Remember to have patience with all of this. You've only been out a couple weeks.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn't argue.
“I picked up something for you,” I start and open the top drawer of my desk. Handing him the application, I state, “It's a janitor job at my gym.”
“You have a gym?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “When the fuck do you go to the gym?”
“I used to go first thing in the morning three times a week. You know, until you decided on a different wake-up regime.”
The corner of his lip kicks up. “I'm better than yoga, baby.”
Because of him I'm gonna need yoga.
I evade the conversation that would continue to add more color to my reddening face by sliding the paper to him. “I think it's just part-time, but I'm not sure.”
“Part time is better than no time. Where is it?”
“Around the corner from The Box. It's called Gym Life.” I grab a pen from the 'Reading is Sexy' coffee mug I keep them in and hand it to him. “Why don't you fill that one out while I look these over?”
He gives me a good nod and does as suggested.
The entire process itself isn't too long. While I prefer to finish the papers before we get our hands dirty from sandwiches, Isaac isn't immediately sold on the idea of waiting to eat.
He's never sold on the idea of waiting for sex either. Again. He's learning. Just like I'm learning reading about guys who play sports is completely different than watching them actually do it. Not gonna lie. Little less hot on television.
Once lunch is finished, we clean our hands and put his applications back in the folder. He prepares to leave, clearly on a mission to return those before grabbing more, yet he makes his way around my desk and announces, “I talked to Winnie on the way here.”
Bought him a cell phone with pre-paid minutes and data usage. Figured it would be a good idea for him to have a way to reach me if I was at work and something went wrong at the house. Plus, I wanted him to have a way to talk to Colt every night before bed. Believe it or not, Winnie's actually let them have a video chat every night since. Not usually very long, but the look on their faces as they talk to each other is more than worth it.
“And?”
“And she says we-”
“We?”
“Yes, we can visit Colt Thursday night after she gets off. Or after you get off I guess.”
“Good!” I exclaim. “And you're sure you want me there again? I can always just drop you off and go to a nearby coffee shop. Read a book. My ebooks are great everywhere.”
He gives me an irked look. “I want you there. I want you to get to know Colt.” After a short pause he attempts to lighten the mood. “Plus, it's the only way I don't go back to jail for attempted murder.”
The joke is preceded by my giggle and his mouth lowering for mine.
“Am I interrupting?”
Stanley's voice startles us apart. While Isaac retreats backwards until his body is leaning against my office window, I merely sit up straight, and lie, “No. Of course not, Mr. Wilder. What can I do for you?”
“You can start by calling me Stanley,” he insists with an overzealous grin.
He gets on this name kick every few months where he heavily insists on it. Before you know it he'll be angry he's not being called Mr. Wilder, which makes him feel more respected. Like I said. He's a moody man.
“What can I do for you, Stanley?”
“You can accept these flowers and my offer to dinner this evening.”
Seeing Isaac's fist begin to curl shoots me to my feet, gently giving his arm a graze as I stroll by. “You didn't have to buy me flowers.”
“For the tantrum I threw in your office when that harpy broke my heart? How could I not?”
“Harpy?” Isaac questions in irritation.
“Shrew,” Stanley sighs his direction. “A terrible, miserable shrew.”
Isaac's eyes cut to me for clearer information. “She was a bitch.”
Understanding floods his expression at the same time Stanley mumbles, “If we're going to get basic about it.”
What? No. He has no reason to purposely make Isaac feel less adequate. Stanley is my boss. Nothing more.
There's a sharp growl that I quickly cover by loudly stating at the same time I take the vase, “These are lovely, Tulips! Thank you.”
“Had my florist, Ana, arrange something especially exquisite for the woman who made me 6.4 million dollars alone last week.” He slides a hand in his pocket. “That was an amazing decision to take on the Whittmore's. Their product, thanks to our marketing, is selling twice as fast as predicted. You really do have an extraordinary talent, Teagan.”
There's another growl that I can't cover up.
Of course you heard it! It's hard to miss!
“Something in your throat?” Stanley nonchalantly questions.
Without allowing Isaac to answer, I try to usher my boss along, “I'm sorry, Mr. Wilder-”
“Stanley-”
“Stanley, I can't have dinner with you tonight. I have plans with Isaac. But I appreciate the offer.”
He gives Isaac a brief glance and sighs, “Alright. I understand. I guess I'll just have to find someone else to dine with me and Raven Hawking.”
His words stumble me back a bit. “As in the author Raven Hawking?”
He grins widely. “That'd be the one. He's an old friend from grade school. Rarely comes to the states. Agreed to dinner and just thought the accompaniment of not only a fan, but a beautiful woman , would make the evening more enjoyable.”
Unsure of how to respond, I simply let my jaw unhinge and stare in shock.
Raven Hawking rarely meets his readers. He's one of those authors who lives in a cave or a castle, hardly sees daylight or moonlight I guess depending on the view, and never does interviews. He's basically an enigma with enough poetic talent to shame Shakespeare while leaving Fitzgerald a flustering mess of mixed metaphors.
“Very well.” He grabs a hold of the door handle to my office. “I'll leave you to whatever it is you were discussing. Enjoy your afternoon, Teagan.”
