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“I don’t have a crush on Mr. Evans, Natalie,” I don’t sound very convincing, even to my own ears.
“Are you sure about that?” Natalie teases. I can hear the mischievous smile she’s wearing even though I can’t see it.
“Of course I am!” I realize that my voice is getting louder, so I lower it back down to a whisper. I don’t want Clark to come in now. “I can admire him without it being a crush.”
“Do you think you can say that with more conviction?”
God, I don’t want this conversation now. And certainly not with my boss’ daughter. She sounds like she’s having a blast teasing me about this. I decide to take back control of this phone call.
“Are we changing the topic, or do you want me to hang up now?” I ask, hoping my last line of defense will work.
“No, don’t do that,” Natalie quickly replies. “I’ve got another ten minutes of my break left, and I’ll be really bored.”
“Then don’t say anything more about it.” I move into the living room and settle on the couch as I reach for the remote. “Because I’ve got to go into work with your dad, and I don’t really want to think about what you’ve said while I’m trying to concentrate.”
Natalie laughs. “You don’t need me to talk about it for you to think about Dad.”
“Natalie…” I groan. She’s right, of course, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of admitting it out loud.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” she says, finally ready to quit.
Shaking my head, I switch the TV on, keeping the volume down so Clark won’t be disturbed. I settle back, tucking my legs under me.
“So, what do you want to talk about before you go back to being a zombie?”
***
Joel
It’s eight-forty, and Megan is late again. Third time this week, and this from the person who’s always here before everyone else.
She’s been off her game for over a week now. Exactly ten days since she caught Eric and Anna kissing, and it’s affecting her work. I can tell she’s trying, but she’s nowhere close to the high standard she usually puts out. It makes me worry.
And Anna is refusing to apologize. The one phone call I had with her over the weekend ended badly, with Anna saying that she’s not apologizing to a peasant worker. I find that laughable, calling Megan a peasant worker when Anna lives off her allowance and nothing else. She hasn’t worked a day in her life.
I know that’s my fault too. I should have pushed her to get out in the world and do things for herself. Natalie had not needed any persuasion when she was old enough to work; she’s a level-headed girl who can stand on her own two feet. But Anna… I have no idea where we went wrong with her. I knew Caitlin favored her—she was practically the younger version of Caitlin—but to the extent that Anna wouldn’t know how to look after herself if she ended up on her own with no money coming in?
That should have been addressed years ago. Well, it had been, but Caitlin refused to let Anna get pushed into anything she didn’t want.
Now she’s parading around with a guy she stole from someone else and does not see anything wrong with what she did. And I’m wondering how I ended up with a daughter who thinks that’s okay.
Megan doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. And it’s clear that it’s affecting her, even though she says nothing about it. I can read her body language well after all these years, and I wish I knew how to make her feel better.
The hand on the clock moves toward eight-forty-five, and I make up my mind. Hopefully, Megan will take me up on this. She is not the type to accept anything she did not work for, but I know this will cheer her up.
The sound of a door opening and closing has me looking up. The door to my office is open, and I can see Megan standing by her desk, her head bowed as she puts her bag away and rearranges a few things, moving files aside to look over them. There is none of her energy that she had summoned up the day before. It’s just not working for her.
It is clear she needs a break.
I leave my office and approach her desk. Megan is bending over to put her purse into the bottom drawer. She’s wearing simple black slacks and a black blouse with short, capped sleeves. Her hair is tied back in a simple ponytail and she is wearing minimal makeup. She normally takes pride in her appearance, so seeing her like this is concerning. While Megan looks pretty no matter what she does, this is miles away from what she normally is.
“Megan.”
She looks up, her eyes widening when she sees me and straightens. “Mr. Evans. I didn’t realize you were here.”
“Well, considering the time, of course I would be here.” I watch her closely. “You’re late again.”
“I know, sir.” Megan’s cheeks go red, and she looks away. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t have an excuse. It won’t happen again.”
