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So. That’s good.
And I know it’s harsh, since my dad must be working a late cleaning shift, but I’m glad for a few moments alone. I still glance over my shoulder, guilt churning in my stomach, as I lift the kitchen trash bag out of its can and shake it gently. No clink of glass bottles.
“Oh.” I’m lighter already as I put the bag back. “Sweet.” And as I wash my hands in the sink, I’m cheerful enough to whistle. Seriously, woodland creatures should be braiding my hair right now.
It’s been a good day. Dad’s still on the wagon, even with me gone a lot with my new job, and I made Levi Laurent drink horrible burned coffee. His handsome face scrunched up with disgust and everything.
It’s small potatoes compared to the ultimate vengeance that I crave, but it’s still a thrill. What shall I do to him tomorrow?
A key scrapes in the front door, and my shoulders bunch around my ears—but I force them down and gust out a sigh.
Dad’s trying. He’s making such an effort, and he needs Happy Georgie. Supportive Georgie. The daughter who dances around him like a manic cheerleader, then force feeds him vegetables and makes him go to bed early.
“You home, Georgie?”
“Yeah!” I smack the faucet off and peer around for a hand towel, but it’s wandered off. Add laundry to the never-ending list of things to do in my brain.
Flicking the water off my fingers, I wander back through the rooms to the front door, where Dad’s bent over to unlace his work boots. His cheeks are ruddy, but that could easily be from all the blood rushing to his head.
God, please let it be gravity and not booze.
“How was work?” My voice is chirpy, but while he’s focused on his boots, I don’t have to force a smile. Seeing my genius scientist father in an ill-fitting janitor’s jumpsuit always punches me square in the chest. His blond hair’s thinning on top, the red of his scalp shining through.
When I was little, he always wore pressed shirts and ties to work, and often came home in a lab coat, talking about inventions and formulas. Back in the day, Nils Olsen was the shit.
“Oh, you know.” Dad heaves upright with a grunt, kicking off his boots and leaving them scattered by the door. “I scraped a thousand wads of chewing gum off the underside of classroom tables today. So that was fun.” He sounds bitter, but when he catches my eye, he grins. “Fajitas for dinner?”
I smile back. “Sure.”
When he heads for the kitchen, I follow slowly. No one told me this side effect of your dad getting sober: that it’s like meeting a stranger. I’m shy in my own home.
We settle into an awkward rhythm: I chop veggies at the kitchen table, shooting sidelong glances at my father as he gathers all the fixings at the counter. And though I’m desperate to cut the tension, he asks the one question I don’t want to hear.
“So. How are things at Ignis?”
My fingers tighten on the knife, and I breathe slowly. Count backward from five. They don’t deserve my dad’s support; his genuine love of the company that tossed him out like week-old trash. I still can’t believe how freaking thrilled he was about my internship—I was all set to manage a meltdown, but nada.
“Fine,” I manage at last. “I got promoted, actually. I’m Mr Laurent’s assistant now.”
Dad whistles and shoots me a wide smile over his shoulder. “Already? Look at you! That man is saving the world, honey.”
That manis going to wish he was never born.
“He ruined your career,” I point out, even though it’s shitty of me. But why can’t Dad hate Levi Laurent too?
It’s so invigorating to loathe a man like that. Easy, too. Because Mr Laurent has everything: the brains, the looks, the money, the acclaim. Even the stupid sexy accent. And what does my dad have these days? A hole in the elbow of his navy jumpsuit.
“Georgie,” Dad says. It’s hiswe’ve been over thisvoice.
“Forget it. Is this enough mushroom?”
He sighs. “Yes.”
So, okay. I’ll admit it. My quest for vengeance is a solo one, because the man I’m avenging is trying to be a better person. I’m not there yet.
Maybe once Levi Laurent is a tormented shell of a man, begging for mercy… maybe I’ll move on then.
Can’t wait.
