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Explaining my lack of job stability is a touchy subject. If I even hint at the fact, my employers have made unwanted sexual advances, he’ll demand I return home.
“I completed the work. No drama.”
"If you lie at Christmas, Santa won't bring you gifts."
"I'm twenty-four, dad. Santa shops at Walmart."
He chuckles.
My childhood was typical of a blue collar family. Mom was a kindergarten schoolteacher, retiring last year to care for both her and dad's health. My father works for the state highway bureau as a road maintenance supervisor. He's on duty during the holidays and inclement weather to ensure the streets remain safe.
I met Ted at the recreation store, where I worked as a cashier. He was a rookie field trainer for the Vikings, flexing tone muscles and a warm grin. Our conversation was natural as I escorted him around the store, helping him fill a shopping cart with sports equipment.
With bold confidence a sensual smile, Ted asked me on a date. My feelings deepened as the months passed though dad's excitement eclipsed mine. He and Ted talked football nonstop, and Ted invited dad to several home games as a VIP guest.
I'd be lying to say that I wasn't having relationship doubts, even then. We couldn't go to dinner without a stacked blonde or fiery red head hitting on him. The Viking's cheerleaders were celebrities in their own right; beautiful, coordinated, and the envy of every plain girl like me.
Ted often reminded me that public image and networking were crucial to his career. His fraternizing with coworkers left me home alone many nights. Maybe I was star struck by the important role he played in the team's success. Maybe I was convinced pleasing dad was more important than my internal warning signals.
Ted received an offer from the Atlanta Falcons after the season ended last February. They agreed to pay moving expenses and give Ted a twenty-thousand-dollar increase in salary. He signed the paperwork before even asking me, which should've been my sign to let him go.
We'd been dating a year at that point, and dad encouraged me to follow him to Georgia. Just three months into the life-changing move, I felt Ted growing more distant. We had the inevitable, it's not you it's me talk.
Our breakup was drama free until I looked through his email as I was transferring my files to a thumb drive. He had dozens of nudes stashed in an un-named file. When I enlarged the picture named three, my gaskets blew. Ted had been scoring field goals with multiple cheerleaders. At the same time.
I hear a male voice in the background and Mom comes on the line.
“Doctor’s here. Call you back with an update.”
Hot water pours over two tea bags, and I stare into my empty family room. I thought Bentley was different, and I can’t deny our combustible chemistry. Maybe I should give up my goal of becoming a certified paralegal and return to the frosty Midwest. Men are scum no matter where you live.
A knock on the front door startles me, and I spill the liquid on my leg as the cup shatters on the ground.
“Penelope? Are you alright?”
Barton’s getting an earful of vengeance as I limp to the door's handle. Between my father’s health crisis and being unable to fly home, I’m at the breaking point.
“What!?”
The door cracks and chilly air swirls across the burn area.
“Ouch!”
“Let me in. You need care.”
The barrier shuts, and I unlatch the security chain. He sweeps his eyes along my body and lands on the wet pant leg. I’m pressed to his chest, and he steps inside before re-fastening the deadbolt.
“First, are you hurt?”
“I spilled hot tea on my leg when an asshole lawyer knocked on my door.”
He cringes, and I hobble to the sofa. Barton's hold is warm and his concern is noble, but he breeched my rules of integrity by agreeing to defend a blackmailing jackass named Peterman.
“I deserved that. I made a horrible mistake, Penelope, and handed you the wrong folder.”
“Doesn’t erase the fact you’d twist the legal system to get my ex-boss off on rape charges.”
“You worked for Peterman?”
