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Chasing Love
Carson
I dropped my cup of coffee on the kitchen counter when I heard the doorbell ring. Three weeks after having Raven clean up my mess in the basement lair, I had decided I needed a little more privacy than I was able to get at the Manor. So I purchased my own condo.
The new place was not as grand or as luxurious as Rodericks Manor, nor as breathtaking as Teddy's penthouse. I went for my style—a simple setting that gave enough room for all my gadgets.
The reason I decided that I needed more privacy was because I wanted to spend more time with Raven, and I knew that I would never hear the end of it if Dad found out. It would be a constant barrage of questions, and I’m sure he would pull my brothers into it too.
So I got my new condo, and I quickly called the cleaning service to set up weekly cleanings. Yeah, I kept dragging her back to my comfort zone. Raven realized my intent when she arrived for the first time at my new digs, but if it bothered her, she never mentioned it.
The sound of the doorbell made me miss my lair in the basement. I was yet to make the proper installations to this building that would aid my lazy nature.
I didn't mind answering the door with just a voice command, but I couldn’t handle all the standing and walking and walking and…
Oh shit. So much walking!
With the back of my hands, I wiped dregs from the corner of my lips and hurried to the door. Dad had called me a few minutes earlier to say that he would be at my place to talk about the new client, and I was sure it was him who had just rang the bell. I looked at the computer screen and saw Dad at the door, holding his phone to his ear while rubbing his recently shaved chin with his free hand.
He slipped the phone into his pocket the moment I opened the door. Today, he ditched his corporate wear for a Tee-shirt and khaki pants, the kind of outfit he would put on at his golf club.
“Hey, Dad.”
“How are you doing, son?”
“Working as hard as ever.”
Dad swept past me and surveyed the living room with the air of a detective checking a crime scene.
“At least you seem to be keeping this place clean. The last time I visited you, I couldn’t even find a clear place to sit.”
I chuckled as I watched him sit down. The house was definitely in better condition than the lair had been that day. Although Squeaky Cleans sent Raven over once a week, I had made a personal decision to never slip up so badly on house cleaning.
“So what’s up with the Fairchild project?” He drummed his hands on his thighs.
I had sent him the progress report through email last night, but he probably decided to ignore it and come here.
“50% done.” I pulled out my phone and showed the details of all the progress I’d made with the team.
"Pretty impressive," Dad said, nodding. That was the height of his praise. He was always ready to lavish praise on his children, when we deserved it, but he didn’t always understand just what it was I did, so he never had too much to say.
“I’ve got some red wine if you want. . .”
Dad wagged his left forefinger at me. “I’m staying away from all alcohol for now.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“It’s been three weeks since you moved out, and you have yet to visit the Manor. When are you going to come see me?”
I was stunned because I didn’t expect that kind of question.
“It’s work, Dad.”
“But I work too, perhaps even harder than you do. And I still find time to come here and see you. There’s time for anything in the world if it’s something you want to do.”
“Okay, I’ll try to do better.”
We talked more about the Fairchild account and talked over some recent company issues that had to do with our website.
