Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
And although I never usually eat the stuff, I slip into another lane and pull into a burger joint.
I order for both of us, and Vanessa quietly pouts and sulks while we wait. I wait patiently until our food arrives, passing her a paper sack as she mumbles some thanks when it does.
I can almost count the seconds until she recovers.
“Seriously, thanks, Michael. This is so good…I think I was just….”
“Low blood sugar. You just needed to eat,” I shrug, biting into my burger, then lifting the lid on it to tuck a large pinch of fries inside.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you do that too!” she squeals, instantly her old self again as I make a mental note never to skip meal times again.
“I thought you’d think it was gross or something, so I didn’t do it, but I always do that,” she says, mirroring my actions and stacking her bun thick with fries.
“How can you eat this and not gain a pound, though?” she asks between mouthfuls, making me smile again.
“I probably will,” I admit. “But I eat, Vanessa. I eat a lot,” I explain. “And you’re not gonna skip breakfast or any other mealtime ever again. Okay?” I tell her firmly, not meaning to sound like a…like a boss. Or a Dad.
“You’re right,” she agrees. “Jase says the same thing every time he sees me. But, just sometimes, Dad doesn’t have enough to buy decent food, so we both end up a little nutty if we don’t eat well.”
I growl softly, but I let my mood go.
Jase.
I’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it.
And her Dad.
But she’s here now. So no more of that. No more problems for Vanessa or her Dad. Or even Jase.
“What does your Dad do?” I ask casually, changing the topic slightly.
She lists off three jobs, all of them in factories and all of them sounding like pretty demanding physical work.
“He ever work in construction?” I ask, and she opens her mouth to speak but stops herself.
“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” she says, poking her tongue out before she resumes eating.
“You’re actually pretty big on family, aren’t you?” she asks absently.
I don’t say anything, and we enjoy our burgers in silence.
Hart Construction is up by two good employees by the looks of things. Anyone who works as hard and long as her Dad just to get by deserves way better.
And yeah, family means everything to me.
Now I have her.
Vanessa plus me and our future are only ever gonna add up to one word.
Family.
Every good little virgin accountant should know that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Vanessa
I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I feel stupid and sound bratty right up until Michael makes sure my mouth has something in it. I feel instantly better and can tell where my bestie, Jase, gets his good manners and caring side from.
Even though Michael’s not his ‘real Dad,’ he’s done a stellar job passing on something I thought nobody had anymore.
Manners and common sense.
More than I have right now, so I’m quick to apologize to Michael, but he doesn’t seem to mind my odd little outbursts.
He’s only interested in seeing me fed and satisfied in every department.
So why am I acting like a four-year-old?
He seems genuinely interested when he asks about what my Dad does. And for once, I don’t cringe when I list off all the jobs he has. And Michael’s not saying what most people would say. “Why does he work so hard and still have no money?” That sort of thing isn’t what he’s about. And when he asks if Dad’s ever worked construction, I don’t mean to blow the ideas I know he’s having right now.
But I don’t want sympathy either.
If Dad wanted a job with Hart Construction, I’m sure he would’ve applied by now. So Michael lets it go, but not before reminding me that although he’s never had a ‘normal’ family, he’s all about family. Making me think less about myself and more about others. And as if talking about him has made his ears burn, my Dad texts me.
Checking in just to make sure I got to work okay. Making sure I’m okay too.
“That Jase?” Michael asks as we hit the road again after eating, and I shake my head.
“My Dad. He must’ve heard you talking shop,” I joke, but I can see that Michael’s mind is already made up no matter what I say or do from now on when it comes to my Dad’s employment situation.
I wait a bit before texting back that I’m fine.
Funny. I’m at Hart Construction right now. Thought I could steal you for lunch??? my Dad texts.
My heart freezes when I read his reply, and noticing the shift in my mood, Michael asks me what’s wrong.
“It’s Dad…he’s at your office,” I gulp. Feeling sick all of a sudden. My mouth goes dry, and my hands are so sweaty the phone starts to slip.