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“Okay,” I say, “Thanks Lyra, have a good evening.”
“You too, JJ.”
I hang up and a wave of relief washes over me. I’ve never had a boss that’s been that understanding about my daughter, even when Bernadine and I both worked at the same studio, where Heather was basically raised. They would freak out if she was there for more than an hour. I just hope Lyra doesn’t regret this decision, or that I do, because it would really be nice to be able to see more of Heather each day. And on top of that, I won’t need Rebecca daily, just on the odd occasion so that’ll save me some money.
As Heather is climbing into the bus the next morning, I go to the driver of the bus to speak to him.
“Hi Jimmy, how are you?” I ask, smiling.
“Hey Mr Hilton, I’m good thanks, and you?”
“I’m good thanks, listen did you hear that the kids aren’t allowed to stay after school anymore?”
“Yeah I did,” he shakes his head, “Sad that it has to be placed as a safety measure with all these attacks in the schools.”
“Yeah it is, but listen, do you drive the route home as well?”
“Yes sir I do, I make sure little Miss Hilton gets to that front door every day.” He smiles proudly and it’s clear he loves the kids he drives around. He’s an old man, with a worn face and a lot of love in his eyes, and I’ve always liked him.
“Do you drive down the main road through town to get here? Past Fifth Avenue and down past the old basketball courts?” I ask.
“Yes sir I do, how come?”
“Because I work at that new studio that’s just after Fifth Avenue before the courts, and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind making a stop to drop Heather off there after school instead of bringing her here.”
“She going to stay at work with you, huh?” Jimmy comments, “It’s no problem, Mr Hilton, it’s on my way, but I can’t stop right outside that studio. I’ll have to stop at the bus stop a little way down. Is that okay?’
“That’s perfect Jimmy, thanks so much,” I smack my hand lightly on the side of his window with a smile, “You drive safe now.”
“I always do sir,” Jimmy tips his hat at me and starts the bus, pulling off slowly. Heather waves at me as it passes and I wave back, my heart full of love for that little kid.
I go back inside to finish my coffee before I decide to walk to work. I could still cycle, but then I would have to push the bike home while Heather walked and that would just be cumbersome. It takes me longer to get to work by walking and I’m a few minutes late.
“Sorry,” I say as I walk in and everyone greets me, “I had to sort out Heather’s bus ride.”
“No problem,” Lacy says, “Lyra isn’t here yet; she’s running an errand so we won’t tell if you don’t.”
I smile at her and she offers her hand up for a high five which I obligingly give to her. I set my phone on the dock on my counter and turn my rock music on low. I go to stow my stuff in the back and find Diesel there getting stock.
“Hello JJ,” he says in that deep German accent.
“Hi Diesel,” I say, “How are you?”
“Good thanks, how is Heather feeling today?”
“Much better thanks, she went to school,” I grab a new sketch book and take it to my booth. My current one is full and I have an idea for a pretty cool watercolour tattoo that I want to design. I sit at my booth and work on it while everyone mills around or attends to clients.
I hear Lyra come in and swing on my chair to greet her, only to pause for a moment as my breath hitches in my chest. She is wearing a simple summer dress today with cute little sneakers and her hair is tied in a high pony. Whatever she went out to do, she did it looking great. I’ve always liked simple things in life, and what she has on drives me instantly wild. I recall the other night quickly to mind, having her splayed out in front of me for the taking, and I feel an uncomfortable tightness in my jeans.
She smiles at me and says, “Hi JJ, Heather feeling better?”
I gulp down and return her smile, nodding, “Much better, thank you. I just have to pop out later to get her at the bus stop.”
“That’s fine,” Lyra says and heads over to her booth.
I turn back to my design and shift all my focus there, willing the heat building up in my pants to calm the fuck down. With each stroke of the pencil I see her naked form in front of me, her body with an aching need, her legs spread, and her breasts heaving up and down as she breathed. The tip of the pencil I’m using snaps as I apply too much pressure, and I reach for the sharpener in the drawer.
“You okay?” I nearly jump out of my chair at the sound of Cindy’s quiet voice behind me.
