Slightly Irregular (17 page)

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Authors: Rhonda Pollero

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #General

BOOK: Slightly Irregular
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“She’s at a tough age. I’ve got to be careful when it comes to my personal decisions. Then there’s the issue of my being your boss. But honestly, that doesn’t bother me as much as how dating you would impact Izzy.”

Oh my God. I was about to get the single daddy brush-off.

“Right now I’m leaning toward avoiding a sticky situation. I just can’t date someone my daughter likes so much. If that happened and things went sour, you wouldn’t be part of her life, and I won’t do that to her. I know I’m supposed to escort you to your sister’s wedding, but—”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. My mother corralled you before I had the chance to tell her that I’d already arranged for an escort.”

I watched his broad shoulders relax. “Okay, then. I’ll just call your mother and—”

“You should still go,” I insisted. “Izzy is looking forward to going to Six Flags with you. Plus, when was the last time the two of you took a long weekend?”

He stroked his chin. “I honestly can’t remember. When we lived in New York, her maternal grandparents tended to be the ones who took her to museums and zoos. I was usually working.”

“I was raised for a short time by a single parent, Tony. Trust me when I tell you it’s very important for you to set aside time for Izzy that doesn’t include you on a laptop, answering e-mail, text messaging, or any other diversion.”

“She’s the queen of texting. Which reminds me: she wanted me to ask if it was okay for her to text you.”

“Sure. Do you know I’m taking her shopping tonight?”

“You? I thought it was some friend from school.” Tony stood up and headed for the door. “I wonder why she lied.”

“She’s not trying to lie, Tony. She was just embarrassed.”

He stopped and turned. “Embarrassed by what?”

God, this was a surreal conversation to have with a boss.
“She needs some new undergarments, and, well …”

“She couldn’t ask me?”

“You want to take her to the bra fitter?”

Tony’s neck turned pink just above the collar of his white shirt. He looked exceedingly handsome today. There was something about his dark coloring and a white shirt that just made him hot. Or maybe I was just feeling residual hot from last night.
To hell with Liam, I’d already given him too much thought.

“I see what you mean,” he said as he reached into his pocket and took out some neatly folded bills. “Let me pay for dinner. A way to thank you for—”

“Would you stop insulting me by offering to pay me for everything I do?”

He blinked. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I just wanted to thank you for helping Izzy.”

“Then stop treating me like your hired help.”

“I’m sorry, Finley.”

“Thank you. Now, I’ve got to get going so I’m not late.”

“You don’t have to pick her up. I’ll just call the housekeeper and have her run Izzy down to the mall. Saves you from driving all the way up to Martin County when the mall is what? Fifteen minutes from here?”

“That would be a help. I’ll bring her home, though. I’m not sure how long we’ll be.”

“Okay.”

Tony was just at the threshold of my office when he stopped with his back to me. “Hey, Finley?”

“Yeah?”

“If it wasn’t for Izzy, I’d ask you out in a New York minute.”

“O-okay.”

As soon as he left, I rolled my eyes. “Okay?” I repeated. “That’s the best you could come up with, Finley?”

So now I had a guy who wanted to date me but wouldn’t and a guy who made my knees weak who wanted to kiss me but didn’t want to sleep with me. “What kind of karmic bullshit is this?”

My mood wasn’t a whole lot better when I reached the mall and valet parked in the row next to the giant horses guarding the entrance to P.F. Chang’s. Izzy was seated on the fountain, a small shopping bag dangling from her wrist, and she glared at me as I walked toward her.

“You told my dad,” she whined when I was still a good five feet away.

“Nice to see you again, too.”

“Did you tell him about the dress, too?”

I placed my hand in the middle of her back and steered her over next to one of the equine statues. “Of course I didn’t. But you’ve got to understand that your dad is my boss, and he came into my office as I was getting ready to leave. I can’t just lie to him.”

“Swear you didn’t say anything about the dress?”

“Swear. Now, should we start over?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just didn’t want him to be mad, but I also don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“You won’t.”

“How do I get back home with this?” she asked as she lifted the small Bloomingdale’s shopping bag and swung it back and forth.

“I told your dad we were going bra shopping. Trust me, he won’t ask to see what you bought, and he sure as hel—
heck
won’t look in the bag.”

“That was wicked smart,” Izzy said, all of her earlier anger dissipated.

Since I’d talked my way through lunch, the smell of food wafting out the restaurant door had me salivating. “Ready to eat?”

“Yep. Lunch, as always, sucked.”

I laughed softly. Cafeteria food had never been my thing, either.

Once we were shown to a table, I asked, “Do you have any homework?”

“Some dumb reading, but I can get that done in twenty minutes.”

I picked up my menu and asked, “Do you like the lettuce wraps?”

“Love them.”

“Great. I’m going for the crispy honey chicken. How about you?”

“Wok-charred beef.”

“Excellent.”

The server came over and asked if we’d ever dined at a Chang’s before. Since we had, he went directly into taking drink orders and creating our sauce mixture.

“What’s in a mojito?”

“Rum, sugar, lime, water, and mint. How was school?”

“Great. Lindsey Hetzler tripped in B hall and fell on the floor.”

I touched my forehead and felt a kinship to Lindsey. “That’s mean to be glad she’s hurt.”

“She didn’t get hurt,” Izzy insisted. “Mr. Canahan said the only thing she hurt was her pride.”

“Eighth grade is brutal.”

As we ate, Izzy filled me in on the players at St. John’s Academy. By the time the waiter brought our check, I knew who all the hot guys were, who all the slutty girls were, and who was smoking weed. If I were paying upward of twenty grand a year, I’d make damned sure my kid wasn’t one of them.

My kid
. I shivered. My biological clock hadn’t gone off yet. In fact, it wasn’t even ticking. I was only twenty-nine, and besides, even if I did want the whole family thing, I’d have to find Mr. Right sometime soon. And that didn’t look promising.

Once Izzy had all the proper lingerie, I drove her up to Martin County to drop her off. Tony came out to the driveway.

He looked deliciously different in casual clothing, doing justice to a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. Where Liam looked just-out-of-bed sexy in jeans, Tony seemed almost preppy, but in a good way. Like he’d be right at home strolling down Worth Avenue or the boardwalk outside the Breakers.

“Everything go okay?” he asked Izzy as she bounced out of my car.

I turned down the radio. No sense letting Tony know that Izzy and I shared the same taste in music and had blasted 95.5 FM all the way from Palm Beach Gardens.

“Great! Thanks, Finley,” she said as she got out of the car, kissed Tony’s cheek, and went inside the house.

I tried to capture my hair and twist it into something a little
less wild since we’d done I-95 with the top down. “Here,” I said as I unhooked my seat belt, reached down to the floor of the passenger’s side, and picked up the Chang’s bag. “This is Izzy’s, and don’t worry about it being out too long. We had the restaurant keep it in the fridge until we finished shopping.”

“I never would have thought of that,” he admitted. “You must be a frequent shopper.”

“I do what I can,” I joked.

There was an awkward few seconds when Tony’s eyes roamed over my body, lingering on where my dress had hiked up to reveal a generous amount of thigh. I remembered the daddy speech and immediately reached for the gearshift.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said.

Tony stood and said, “Sure thing.”

As I was driving back to the gate, my cell rang. “Hello?”

“Fin, you won’t believe what just happened,” Becky said so quickly I almost had to make her repeat herself.

“What?”

“I just got a text from Ellen.”

Nothing new, except that it meant Becky was still working at nine fifteen at night. “What?”

“Ellen quit.”

There should be a sarcasm font.

ten

“You look like hell,”
I said days later when Becky came in and practically collapsed into a chair.

“I feel like hell. No, what’s worse than hell?”

Her green eyes were bloodshot, and her auburn hair was mussed as if she’d been pulling it out at the roots.

“Ellen’s been gone only a week.” That still bothered me. Ellen just didn’t seem the type to up and quit without notice of any kind.

“It feels like an eternity. Especially since she won’t return my calls, or e-mails, or texts. I swear, you’d think she took the last shuttle to the space station.”

“I’m pretty sure we can talk to the space station.”

Becky shot me a glare. “Don’t be literal. Be my friend. Please tell me you’ve finished with the Bollan thing. Victor is all over me.”

I arched one brow. “Calling him Victor these days, eh? Movin’ on up, are you?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you suck as a best friend?”

“Sorry, how can I help?”

“Tell me Bollan is finished.”

“Research is finished, but I gave Sleepy and Wanda Jean until Monday to come up with the infamous letter stating they have lifetime use and possession of the land.”

“Bottom line it for me.”

“Since he wasn’t paying rent, he can’t claim homestead or squatter’s rights. But there might be a way to keep everyone happy.”

“How?”

I reached for the giant three-ring binder off to one side of my desk and flipped through the indexed tabs. I removed the plat I’d gotten from the tax collector’s office and spread it out, holding it down with a glass Tiffany paperweight my mother had given me for college graduation. I’d wanted a trip to Paris. Instead, I got a fancy glass ball that cost more than a trip to Paris.

“We move Sleepy and Wanda Jean’s trailer here,” I paused to point at the far southwestern corner of the property. “Then we give them eighty acres for soy beans so they have some cash. Their cattle can graze around the equestrian center. It’s a winwin.”

Becky looked relieved. “Think Lenora will go for it?”

I nodded. “She’s reasonable. It’s the Bollans I have doubts about.”

“Why?”

“They swear there was a witness when Egghardt delivered the letter eight years ago, but all they had was some story about
a hot redhead in a car. Plus, they’re very …
committed
to their home.”

“They can be committed, or they can take the deal.”

“Or they can litigate.” I checked my watch. “I’ve got about an hour before I have to go home, finish packing, and get to the airport for Lisa’s wedding.”

“Liam on the same flight?” Becky asked with a devilish smile.

“You suck as a best friend, too. And no, he’s on his own. As far as I know my mother only booked a flight for me.”

“Have the two of you talked since the
incident
?”

I shook my head. “I sent him a text about what to wear and gave him the info for the Ritz-Carlton in Atlanta.”

“Are you going to give him the silent treatment all weekend?”

“I prefer to think of it as not cluttering his mind with superficial chitchat.”

“And Tony?”

“He and Izzy are flying in tonight. That way they can spend tomorrow at Six Flags.”

“Brushing up against all those sweaty tourists?” Becky shuddered. “Pass, thanks. Remember when our sorority took a trip there? Worst day of my higher-education life.”

“No, the worst day of your college life was when you got dumped by Brian Hastings.”

“I was in
luv
,” Becky joked.

“I wonder what ever happened to him.”

“Last I heard he’d gotten his MBA and is some sort of sports agent.”

Tilting my head to the side and letting out a long sigh, I said, “So you both negotiate for a living. Wow, you were soul mates.”

On that note, Becky dragged herself out of the chair. “I hope you have fun at the wedding. Tell your mom I said hi.”

“I will.”

“And don’t forget to bring me back some Moon Pies.”

“You can buy Moon Pies at Publix.”

“Not the same as the ones from Georgia. It’s closer to Tennessee. And some RC Cola. You can’t eat Moon Pies without RC Cola. Too bad you can’t bring me an order of onion rings from the Varsity Grill.”

“Are you planning on eating your way through Ellen’s sudden meltdown?”

Becky gripped the chair back. “Does this make
any
sense to you?”

“No. I never would have pegged Ellen as the type to have a midlife crisis. And the whole out-of-touch thing is just too weird. Has anyone gone over to her condo? Maybe corner her in person.”

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