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“And you thought to call and bother me at work to tell me this?”
“Oh, Fable, I was hoping you would join us tomorrow morning. Give the ladies a tutorial. Maybe bake a few batches.”
Leave it to my mother to bash my career path in cooking and then ask me to cook. “I don’t know, Mom. I have this fancy benefit dinner tonight with my boss. It will probably be a late—”
“As in the man you work for?” Yep, that’s him. “Is that in your job title, honey? You should really go ask somebody.”
I’m not sure a lot of the things I do are in my job title. Mainly, getting finger banged by the boss. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is if he’s taking advantage of you.”
“It’s fine.”
“I think you should talk to your father.”
“Why would I need to talk to Dad—”
“Gerald!”
“Mom, no! Don’t get Dad—”
“Hello?”
Why do they do this? “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, it's my favorite daughter.”
"I'm your only daughter." I roll my eyes.
“Fay has some fancy dinner she has to go to tonight with her boss,” Mom says.
“Your boss? Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is he taking you? What happened to that blonde?”
“What kind of dinner is this?”
I inwardly groan. “It’s like a charity event at a hotel. You dress up, eat fancy food, and dance. . .”
“Honey, you don’t even know how to dance,” Mom interjects.
I roll my eyes. Not the point. “Fine, I’ll bake cookies. Anything else?”
“Wonderful. There’s a train that will get you here at nine in the morning.”
“Great, see you soon!” I hang up, falling back in my chair, wondering whyI'mgoing to this “work function.” Whyishe taking me over his girlfriend?
Maybe she’s busy at a modeling event. Or winning an award for being so perfect. Or maybe she’s—
“Am I interrupting something?” I snap out of my daze and look up to see Theresa standing on the other side of my desk.
“Nope. What’s up?”
“I need you to sign these.” She tosses a packet of papers on my desk.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
