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She hurries up the staircase, leaving me and her father alone in the room that’s meant to be for fun, yet right now, I feel like I’m about to get a lashing from my parent.
“Tara, I left you alone with my daughter for one afternoon, and I return to her looking and speaking like a harlot.”
“Harlot? No one says that word unless you’re an ancient Victorian.”
“Please grow up and be serious.”
“I am being serious, Rob. We were having a talk about …” I stop, wondering if Molly would want me telling her dad she was talking about his divorce or the issues she’s having at school, being seen as a toddler and not a preteen, or even her friend—who I don’t think Molly quite realizes is a user and not a giver. I have a feeling Rob would be mad at her for talking about their personal family business and then be dismissive with her friend issues. “We were talking about clothes. It’s hard for a ten-year-old girl. She’s stuck between two places. She’s not a girl. Not yet a woman. All she needs—”
“If you start quoting Britney Spears’s songs, I’m kicking you out.”
I jump up with glee. “You know Britney! There’s hope for you yet, Bronson.”
I walk past him and head up the stairs from the basement, toward the foyer. My tote bag and laptop are in the kitchen, so I turn to the right and walk down the hallway. Rob’s heavy footsteps are behind me.
“What the hell happened in here?!” It’s not a question. It’s more of a loud rant.
“You saywhat the hella lot—you know that? Molly and I baked.” I’m confused by what he doesn’t understand by the mixing bowls, spatulas, cupcake tins, and empty boxes of cake mix and frosting on the counter. As if to further explain, I point to the large platter of cupcakes.
“This kitchen is a mess. No one needs six bowls to make cupcakes!”
“We decorated them all the colors of the rainbow. Well, we left out indigo because it was redundant with blue and violet. You can’t mix colors in the same bowl.”
“Did anyone teach you to clean up?”
“Yes,” I answer slowly, as if this is a trick question. “I was gonna clean. We decided to play games first. You’re getting red in the face, and while I think the brutish attitude is kind of sexy, I have to say, it doesn’t feel good since you’re practically spewing venom out of your eyes.”
He places his hands on his hips and looks down, shaking his head. “This isn’t gonna work.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t have you watch Molly all summer. The language, the makeup, cutting up clothes, making a mess of my kitchen … and that’s only what I’ve seen in the ten minutes I’ve been home.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I need someone I can trust.”
“You don’t trust anyone, remember?” I lift a finger to make a point, yet I think better of it. “Never mind. I have plenty of things I should be doing other than helping you out.”
“So, you’re quitting already?”
My hands fly to my head, ready to pull out the strands. “You’re the one who just—” I scrunch my face and let out a growl. “Never mind. Please tell Molly it was awesome hanging with her today and I wish her luck with everything because she’s a great kid.”
I grab my tote and laptop and storm toward the front door, open it, and then spin around to face him.
“And make sure you tell her that Nicole girl isn’t a good friend. If someone expects you to give them your snacks at lunch, they should at least give you Nutella in return.”
I’m marching out the door and down the stairs as I also add, “The shirt we made today should be worn with a colorful, thick strapped, tank top underneath, or people will think it’s a bra. Trust me, if she does, no one will make fun of her clothes again.”
Nearly out of breath, I swing open my convertible door, toss my bags on the passenger seat, look up, and point at Rob. “You know, Rob, you have real potential to be a great guy. A hero even. You get in your own way. You’re mean and course, and you don’t give anyone a chance to explain.”
To give him a taste of his own medicine, I get in my car and close my door before he can say a word, not that he’s even tried. He just stands there, looking into my window as I start my car and put it in reverse.
I’m off his property before the sun sets. Yes, my exit is a little dramatic, even for me. Why exactly I bolted out of there like a bat out of hell is something I’m trying to figure out.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“What do you mean, you offered to live on a ranch with him?”
