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“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Sorry for what?” I asked.
“For not staying for the reading of your mother’s letter. That woman meant a great deal to me.” Stella opened her mouth to say more but couldn’t.
I reached over and grabbed her hand when I heard her voice crack. This young lady I had grown up alongside my entire life was slowly falling apart in front of my eyes, and I wanted to help her. I wanted to give her something to latch onto, a life vest to keep
her afloat, so I wouldn’t lose her like I’d just lost my own mother.
Like I’d just lost the only father I ever knew.
“Let me help you, Stella. Just this once. Take the job,” I said.
“We haven’t even negotiated payment,” she said, sniffling.
“How about $160,000 a year plus benefits. Four weeks paid vacation, two weeks unpaid sick leave,” I said.
“Holy shit,” she said breathlessly.
“Take the job, Stella. Let’s give into whatever the hell it is your father’s trying to manipulate from his grave.”
“Our father,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“Our father. He was just as much your father as he was mine. I never should’ve said that to you in that restaurant, Christian. I’m so sorry.”
“You know how you can show me you’re sorry?” I asked.
“How?” she asked.
“Take the damn job.”
She smiled, releasing my hand before she picked up her coffee mug. Her eyes crinkled, sparkling with just a hint of the little girl I’d grown up with all my life. For the first time since I’d seen her in that hospital, it looked like a breath of life had filled her body.
“See you Friday?” she asked.
“See you then,” I said.
Chapter Eight
Stella
I heard the door knocking and dropped what I was doing to go get it. I was looking through the book I’d found at my father’s house and was transcribing his drawings, ideas, and notes into a cohesive notebook for tomorrow. I still didn’t like the idea of Christian running the company, and I wasn’t sure if he would know how to splice up the front and back end of the business like he had said.
But, I also knew the moment I could get a foothold in the company and imprint upon it, I’d feel more at ease about this entire problem I had encountered with my father’s will.
I opened the door and saw my beautiful best friend standing there, her smile broad and shining in the middle of the day.
“What are you doing here, Daisy?” I asked as I threw my arms around her neck. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Took a sick day. Figured my best friend could use a bit of sunshine in her life. I’m impressed you’re actually showered and clothed,” she said.
“It’s been a hell of a past couple of days,” I said.
“Well, you can tell me while we go out. I can tell by the color of your skin that the sun hasn’t seen you in days. Come on,” she said.
“Let me get my purse.”
