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I wring my hands together, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable, yet somehow entirely comfortable around this man. A throat clearing has both Harrison and I whipping our heads toward the noise. Harrison’s hand comes to my waist instinctively, catching us both off guard. I swallow roughly, the humming feeling in my body way too new to comprehend.
“Beth, you can’t work with Mr. Rothschild, the hours would be ridiculous,” Jeff says flippantly, and my teeth grind together. I hate people talking for me. It makes me feel like he is undermining me. Like I am a child incapable of making my own decisions. Taking away my voice.
Then I look at where he is resting his hand on dad’s wheelchair and understanding washes over me. Jeff is right. No matter if we need the money, the hours a campaign like Harrison’s would demand will be too much. The days would be long, and with no time off. My dad can’t look after himself, so I need to be there.
Though, the money would be great… I might even be able to start putting some away into savings instead of living from pay to pay.
Looking at Dad, I see his shoulders already reaching his ears. His neck is red, and he is grinding his teeth so hard I internally scream for him to stop because we can’t afford to see a dentist right now. He is not happy.
“You don’t have to worry about anything here, sugar,” Marci says quickly, standing next to Dad, her hand possessively on his other wheelchair handle. Making it clear that she will look after him and that has sparked my interest. I wonder if her and Dad do have something going on that I don’t know about.
“Enough!” my dad barks, and I jump at his tone. Harrison’s hand flexes on my waist, and he pulls me to him offering me support. His body is already seemingly in tune with mine, given the nervous energy running off me right now it isn’t surprising.
“Mr. Rothschild, my daughter is very talented and would be an excellent team member. So, Beth, if this is something you want to do, then do it. We’ll work it out. As for the rest of you, stay out of Beth’s business,” Dad says, before wheeling away, leaving us all looking after him.
My heart breaks a little, feeling his frustrations. He hates people speaking for him too. Just because his legs don’t work like they should, that doesn’t mean he is incapable of making decisions. Everyone here knows that, but some people seem to forget sometimes.
Looking back at Harrison, my eyes feel heavy with unshed tears, already knowing that the guilt of not being with dad each day will be enough to kill any positives that the extra money can bring. We will make do. We always do.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I say quietly, as Harrison looks at me with what I think is concern. He goes to say something else, but I step away, out of his grasp, and follow my dad out the back of the center.
I push through the door and take a deep breath to gather my thoughts. The sun hits my face, and I pause for a moment. There is a lot to take in. I need sleep, I need to process, I need money.
“Dad?” I walk through the community garden and spot him digging around in the vegetable patch.
“Beth, don’t listen to anyone. That is a good job. An asshole of a boss, no doubt, but a good job.”
“But I won’t be around much. Jeff is right, it will be a lot of hours,” I say, confusion at what I should do eating my insides. My mind is working in overdrive, trying to weigh up the pros and cons.
“You work a lot anyway. This won’t be too different,” he says, giving me a small but exhausted smile, and I look at him for a beat, wondering if he is always this pale.
“Dad, are you sure you are okay?” I ask, reaching my hand out and resting it on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about me, honey. I am fine.” He pats my hand, and it comforts me just the slightest bit.
“I don’t want to interrupt the moment, but I need to go,” Harrison says from behind us, and I see Dad stiffen. I turn and see Harrison standing there, tall and strong next to his brother, Eddie, who I was talking to earlier. His eyes still look at me with concern, but he remains where he is, not coming any closer.
“Three months. I will double the wage you receive from Kelly’s Agency. I will provide a town car to take you to and from home to lessen your commute. Additional medical and wellbeing benefits to support your caretaking needs.” Harrison’s eyes flick from me to Dad and back again. I need to grip onto Dad’s chair because I almost fall over. Double my wage? The money alone would be enough, but a car at my beck and call and additional benefits… Now I am wondering if there is a catch.
“I can also confirm he is an asshole of a boss,” Eddie says from beside him and his comment breaks the tension. I bite my lower lip so I don’t laugh out loud. I watch as Harrison gives him a look that would tumble any grown man, but Eddie just shrugs.
“I’m joking!” he mumbles to Harrison. “I’m joking, he is great.” He shoots me a playful wink, and I see Harrison shake his head and rub his eyes before he looks back at me, giving me a small smile. Stupidly, I melt a little.
“So, are you with me, Beth? We would make a good team?” Harrison asks, his expression hopeful.
I hold my breath for a moment and meet his stare. His eyes search mine, and it is like he is looking into my soul. I can feel the energy hum between us, even from this distance, my traitorous heart beating even louder than before. I have no idea if it is the right thing or not, but in this moment, with our eyes locked, I say the only word I want to say to him.
“Yes.”
8
HARRISON
“Have you totally lost your mind?” Oscar seethes now that we’re in the car on our way back to my city office.
Perhaps I have. I offered her a bigger salary and more benefits than I have ever offered anyone else. I was so unsure of what her answer was going to be, I threw everything I could at her, desperately wanting her to say yes. When she walked away from me, I thought I had lost her. I couldn’t help but follow her outside, my body on autopilot.
When I saw her talking with her dad, the pull I had for her only grew stronger. It is something I haven’t felt before. Yet it is there, so much so, I rub my chest a little from where I sit, wondering if, as Oscar said, I have lost my mind.
