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“Say sorry.”
“No.”
She folded her arms across her chest and huffed. “Do it.”
I laughed. “No.”
“I want an apology.”
“And I want a million euro,” I laughed. “Tell you what, you’ll get your apology when I get my money.”
She glared at the side of my face for a few moments longer before her expression softened. “Hey, Joe, do you think I’m dramatic?”
“Only when you’re awake.”
Her glare made a reappearance. “Now, I want two apologies.”
Her phone started to ring then, and she quickly answered the call. “Hello, father, this is your favorite child speaking.”
Rolling my eyes, I concentrated on the road ahead of us, while she rambled on to her dad.
“Yeah, we had a great time,” she said, ripping off a lollypop wrapper and popping it into her mouth. “Yeah, Casey really enjoyed the festival, too.” She paused to wink at me before continuing with her conversation, “Yeah, I’m totally safe, Dad. I’m really getting the hang of driving.”
Yeah fucking right.
“Okay, Dad, I’ll see you tonight. Yeah, yeah. Okay, love you. Bye.”
Hanging up, she tossed the phone on her lap, and twisted in her seat to face me. “So, I had a really good time this weekend, boyfriend.”
“I’m not your boyfriend, Molloy.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot,” she shot back with a grin. “You’re mybitch.”
MEET MY DAD – I MEAN, YOUR BOSS
AUGUST 22ND 2004
AOIFE
On Sunday morningJoey had a face like thunder when he stepped out his front door and made a beeline for where I was sitting on his garden wall.
“I told you that I’d meet you on your street,” he snapped, quickly snatching me up, and throwing me over his shoulder. “I don’t want you anywhere near this house, Molloy.”
His bad mood was something I expected, so I didn’t let it faze me.
Instead, I laughed at how ridiculous we looked, as he continued to stalk down the footpath, with me over his shoulder, and my ass in the air.
“I’m wearing a skirt,” I laughed, which earned me a string of curse-words, as he quickly set me on my feet, and pulled the hem of my skirt down. “It’s nice, huh?” Stepping closer, I grabbed his hand, and made him feel the fabric. “It’s totally fake leather, but I feel like a pure ride in it.”
“You look like one, too,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw, as his eyes drank me in. “Jesus, did you go to mass wearing that skirt?”
“I sure did.” Batting my eyes I grinned up at him. “But don’t worry, I plan on going to confession next week to atone for my sins.”
“Atone.” Smirking, he slung an arm over my shoulders, as we walked. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“And you do?” Reaching around, I slipped my hand into his back pocket, my favorite place to touch him. “I didn’t see you lining up for holy communion.”
“Fair point.”
