My Father's Best Friend Read online

  “Um?”

  “It was … good.”

  Erica stopped cutting and squinted at me over the kitchen island. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “He was superhot.” I shook my head. “I don’t even have the words, Erica.”

  “Oh my god!” she shouted, raising her arms high in the air. “I knew it! I had a feeling you would meet someone today. He’s single, right? You checked his hand?”

  “He’s a widower.”

  “Okay,” she dully said. “And?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just sad. For Raven, you know. And him.”

  “So he is the Marx guy I thought he was, right?”

  “I think so. Investing or whatever?”

  “Yeah.” She quickly munched on a celery stick as her eyes widened. “I’ve only heard a little bit about him. I think he likes to stay out of the spotlight. What kind of hot is he?”

  “What kinds are there?”

  “Like, you know.” She waved the celery around. “Compare him to a celebrity. Who does he look the most like?”

  “No one compares to him.”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” I solemnly nodded.

  “I’m looking right now.” Yanking her phone from her pocket, she tapped away. I did my best to focus on the room we were in and on not get pulled back into the fantasy I’d been enjoying a moment earlier.

  Andrew Marx had been flirting with me.

  Right?

  I was reasonably certain he had been. But I didn’t know for sure. Men like him—sexy, older, successful men—didn’t take an interest in me. College boys did. Guys who were managers at restaurants and rented rooms in their moms’ houses did. The truth was, I didn’t know what it looked like when a guy who was entirely out of my league paid me any attention. It just never happened.

  “Holy shit,” Erica gasped, staring at her phone. “You weren’t kidding.”

  She turned the phone around, showing me a picture of Andrew Marx wearing a scowl. It had been taken while he walked out of some building, and his hand was lifted as if he were telling the photographer to back off.

  Grumpy face or not, the sight of Mr. Marx had desire pooling in me once again.

  “That’s the first pic that came up?”

  “Yeah.” She did some more tapping. “From one search, I’m getting the impression he likes to stay out of the spotlight. Hold on. I’m going to see what his estimated net worth is.”

  “No,” I gasped. “Don’t do that.”

  Erica’s perfectly-arched brows furrowed. “Uh, why the hell not?”

  “Because that would be weird. He’s my student’s dad.”

  She shook her head in disdain. “I’m looking it up anyway. Wow. It’s a lot.”

  “I don’t want to know.” Crossing the kitchen, I pulled two glasses from the cupboard and poured us both some wine.

  “It’s billions.”

  “I said stop. It doesn’t matter how much he’s worth.” I gave her a wide-eyed stare. “I want to think of him as just another guy.”

  “Oh, honey.” Erica laughed. “This is not just another guy.” She showed me the picture again. As if I could ever forget that face.

  “He is for me. I can’t think of him in that way.”

  “Even if you already are?”

  She knew me too well.

  “Why would he go for someone like me?”

  “Why would he not? Seriously, you need to stop putting yourself down. Right now.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “I’m not fucking kidding, Lanie,” she snapped, her voice so loud it made me jump. Gone was the playful attitude. Instead, Erica stared at me with a razor-sharp gaze.

  “You are amazing,” she said. “Am I the kind of person who would hang out with a loser?”

  “No,” I truthfully admitted.

  “You’re damn right I wouldn’t. Now give me that wine.”

  Not waiting for me to move, she stomped around the island and took it for herself.

  “Ask him out,” she said after she’d had a swallow. “You won’t regret it.”

  “I’m not doing that.” I furiously shook my head. “Although, I did tell him about that art show this weekend.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “It had nothing to do with us. I suggested he take his daughter to it because she loves art.”

  Erica waved her wine glass around. “I’m still waiting to hear what he said.”

  “He asked if …” I bit down on the smile curving my lips. “If I would be there.”

  Erica shrieked and lightly punched my arm. “You jerk! You were holding out on me. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  “Because I don’t want to get my hopes up,” I wailed. “Am I interested in this guy? Yes. Of course.”

  “And he’s interested in you.”

  “Because he asked if I’d be there?” I hopefully questioned.

  “Don’t make me spell it out again.”

  “Okay.” Heat crept up my neck. “I believe you.”

  “It’s about time you did, you sexy, smart beast, you.”

  I giggled. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”

  “Please.” She snorted into her wine glass. “I got over that phase in college.”

  For the hundredth time that day, I ran over the conversation with Andrew Marx in my head. “I’ll see you there,” he’d said.

  Remembering the way his gaze had settled on mine, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Could this really be happening? An attractive, smart man was interested in me?

  “What do you think of him being older?” I asked.

  “I think it’s sexy as hell.”

  “Yeah.” I grinned. “I kind of like it too.”

  The sound of someone knocking at the door gave me pause.

  “Hello! House keeping. Would you like your pillows fluffed?” Matt’s voice was high-pitched and hilarious.

  “Brother,” Erica muttered with a smile on her face. “Where is your key?”

  “Lost it?” He smiled as she opened the door. “Again?”

  “You’re lucky you’re so cute.” She moved back and put a hand on her hip.

  “That’s what she said.” He winked and walked toward the kitchen. “Hello, Lanie.”

  “Hi, Matt,” I waved.

  “Uh, you’re not supposed to be over here.” Erica made a face. “It’s Thursday night. Boy’s night, which gives me my beloved girl’s night?”

  “Baby, I love it when you sweet talk.” Matt turned, wrapped his arms around her and fervently kissed her neck, making both Erica and me laugh.

  “Stop,” she squealed. “You’ll spill my wine.”

  She pretended to try to wiggle away, but it was pretty obvious she was right where she wanted to be.

  “I just came to drop this off.” Matt put her phone charger on the counter. “I’ll only stay for a minute and then I’m out again.”

  “I have another one I could use,” Erica pointed out.

  “If I let you do that, what excuse would I have to drop by?” Matt lowered his face, sending Erica a purposeful look. She lowered her own eyes, the confident, snappy woman instantly transformed into a love-struck youth.

  Matt lifted some of Erica’s hair and kissed behind her ear. “I only wanted to say hi. Won’t ruin your dinner. Call me later tonight, woman.”

  “Okay,” she breathlessly murmured. You’d think the two of them had newly started dating the week before instead of being together for a few months. Hell, I think they knew each other for years and never connected.

  “Have a good night, Lanie.” Matt gave me a friendly smile, hazel eyes warm and welcoming.

  As Erica’s best friend, it was probably my job to point out any shortcomings her man possessed, but with Matt, I couldn’t find any.

  “See you two later.” With that, he was back in the elevator, having only dropped by for a minute—as he’d promised. The only signs he’d been there at all were the phone charger and Erica’s gar
gantuan smile.

  “What are you thinking about?” I teased.

  “Oh, nothing.” Her eyes dreamily drifted to the dark window.

  Without a doubt, Matt would be back once I’d left. They’d probably have wild, romantic sex, fall asleep tangled around each other, and then make breakfast together in the morning before heading to work. Only a trip to the farmer’s market would make the event sickeningly complete.

  Running my tongue along my front teeth, I looked at my hands. No one wore jealousy well, least of all me. But sometimes I couldn’t stop myself. Erica had one of the most amazing relationships in the world. I’d be insane not to want that as well.

  “Don’t worry,” Erica suddenly said.

  When I hadn’t been paying attention, her gaze had switched from the window to me.

  “If you want it, it’ll happen for you.”

  “Yeah.” I looked at the wall, the floor. Cleared my throat. “At this point, I’d take having some fun.”

  “Why settle for only that?”

  She turned away, getting busy at the stove, which I appreciated. I didn’t want her to see the doubt on my face.

  Half of me was thrilled to have met a guy who was my type. Andrew Marx was smart, handsome, and obviously ambitious. But the flip side of the coin was the self-doubt that came with the situation. Could I get my hopes up and believe someone that amazing would be into me? Or was doing so setting myself up for disappointment?

  I swirled the wine in my glass, too buzzed already but needing something for my hands to do. There was no point in worrying about any of this. Only two things could be known for sure. I was going to the opening, and Andrew Marx would be there. Beyond that, nothing was guaranteed.

  Chapter 10

  Andrew

  When my cell phone’s alarm went off, I was ready to go. Jumping up from my chair, I killed the screen on the desktop. All day long, I’d been running on anxious energy. An evening spent with Raven. A possible run-in with the sexy guidance counselor. Both of these opportunities were strange and uncertain.

  At the door of my office, I paused, hand on the knob. Something inside me wanted to go right back to my desk, back to work. The world there was comfortable, and I knew it inside and out. A foreign land lay ahead of me. How long had it been since I explored the world outside of the normal day-to-day?

  I let out a long sigh. No running back to the computer. Tonight wasn’t about me. This was Raven’s night.

  Going into the open-style main section downstairs, I crossed the living room and grabbed a glass of water. A noise made me turn around, and Karen popped out of the pantry.

  “Just getting rid of expired goods.” She waved a can of sweet potatoes at me. I couldn’t remember the last time we had Thanksgiving at home. Usually, Karen spent that weekend with her family, so Raven and I went to the country club for dinner.

  Holidays. I hated them. They were for people who despised their jobs and needed time off, a situation that didn’t apply to me at all. Since this was America, though, I had to give my employees all the expected breaks off.

  “Raven come down yet?” I asked.

  “No. I can go check on her.”

  I looked at my watch. We had a reservation at an Ethiopian place in thirty minutes, but the spot was only about half that time away.

  “She can take another minute.”

  Karen’s surprised look couldn’t be missed. Before she could grill me on anything, I pulled my phone out and checked my email.

  A few more minutes crawled by. What was she doing up there? Curling her hair? Putting on even more glitter eyeshadow or whatever makeup crap it was girls obsessed with now? This was a night out with her dad, not prom.

  “I haven’t waited for a woman this long since Danica was alive.”

  The second the last word left my mouth, I froze. Where had that thought even come from?

  From across the kitchen, where she stacked cans, Karen smiled uncertainly. I gulped, hyperaware of my beating heart. I hardly ever talked about Danica. Fuck, I hardly ever stood around in the kitchen just talking, forget the subject.

  What was going on with me?

  The floorboard creaked, and Raven appeared at the edge of the kitchen, having snuck downstairs without me noticing. With her floor-length sundress, jean jacket, loose hair, and bare face, she looked the opposite of what I’d expected. Gone were the miniskirt and red lipstick she’d donned the last few times I’d seen her go out.

  “Hi,” she quietly said.

  “You look great.”

  For some reason, that made her scowl. “We have to go, Dad. We’re gonna be late.”

  I opened my mouth to remind her I’d been waiting for her but then closed it. This night was about getting along.

  Leaving Karen to her cans of veggies and bags of flour, we went into the garage and climbed into the Maserati. I’d gotten it a few months ago but hadn’t found the chance to drive it around much. It had been in my mind to use it as kind of a weekend car, which is why I’d picked out a convertible. That seemed ridiculous now. I hadn’t taken a full weekend off in years.

  Keeping the top up because of the chill, I navigated down the circular drive and took a right, toward the main road. For a few minutes, only the hum of the engine filled the car.

  I worked my tongue around, looking for something to say. Fuck, this is hard. What were we supposed to talk about? I already knew about school.

  Raven gasped, and I quickly looked over at her.

  “What?”

  “I left my phone at the house.”

  “Oh.” I frowned. “We can go back and get it.” We weren’t even five minutes from home.

  She didn’t answer, and I started to pull into a parking lot to turn around.

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t need it.”

  I stared at her, but she kept looking ahead, giving me nothing but her profile.

  “Okay.”

  A teenager not needing her phone for a whole evening? What alternate universe had I stepped into?

  Maybe Lanie’s suggestion was working after all.

  At the restaurant, our table was ready right away. Raven barely looked at the menu, picking out the entree at the very top.

  “I’ll have that too,” I told the waiter, handing my menu over.

  Raven wrung her hands on the table and looked all around the restaurant.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I just don’t want to be late.”

  I almost laughed at that, but the serious expression on her face stopped me. “Don’t worry. It’s an art show. The canvases aren’t going anywhere.”

  Her lips twisted. “I know.”

  That familiar annoyance filled me, and once again, I had to check myself. Just look for something else to talk about.

  “Miss Jacobs seems nice.”

  Raven’s nose wrinkled. “Who?”

  “The guidance counselor.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged and looked away. “Don’t know her.”

  “You haven’t had a meeting with her yet?”

  “Should I?” She shot me a scathing look like I was the one having behavioral issues.

  “You-I—” My hands found my hair, where they itched to pull at the roots. Not wanting to completely lose my shit in the middle of a restaurant, I forced them onto the table. “Let’s just focus on having a nice time tonight, all right? Can we do that?”

  “I’m not the one who brought up school.”

  I chewed on that for a second. When I’d mentioned going to the art gallery, I neglected to tell Raven it had been her school counselor’s idea. Now I realized this was for the best. Her thinking this outing had been my idea was likely why she’d toned the attitude down.

  Keeping that in mind, I changed the subject. “How is Caitlin? Have you seen her lately?”

  “Caitlin goes to school in Colorado,” she quietly said.

  “What?”

  “A private school.”

  “Since when?”

  �
��Two years ago.” Raven made a disgusted face, and this time, she couldn’t be blamed. “Do you listen to anything I say?”

  “You never told me she moved to Colorado,” I sharply answered.

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s because she didn’t. Her parents sent her there. They thought she’d grow up to be a crack whore or something if she went to public school.”

  “Don’t say crack whore.”

  Raven snorted. “Okay.”

  Holy shit, I can’t say anything right.

  Out of the corner of my eye, our waiter walked by. Quickly extending my arm, I caught his attention. “I’ll take a bourbon. Top shelf.”

  One hour and a drink later—the latter which would have been more if I wasn’t driving—we emerged from the restaurant and drove deeper into downtown. Raven’s attitude hadn’t gotten any better during dinner, and I could tell she probably wished she’d brought her phone. No better way to tune me out than by staring at a screen.

  On the gallery’s block, I found parking on the street, and we walked briskly down the sidewalk. With each step, my pulse picked up. Lanie was so close, just a minute away. Would she be as excited to see me as I was her?

  “Uh, Dad? Wait up, will you?”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I stopped so Raven could catch up.

  “You’re acting so weird,” she pouted. “What’s wrong with you?”

  My face flamed. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  I’d finally met a woman I was attracted to that didn’t seem like a total nutcase. That’s what was wrong with me.

  Now I had to make sure she possessed the rest of the necessary criteria.

  Arriving at the corner gallery, I opened the door for Raven, letting her enter first. Automatically, my eyes swept the space, looking for Lanie. At the sight of her, standing near a wall talking to a woman, desire rumbled deep in my core.

  How had I gone so long without getting a woman in my bed? The last few months, being alone had seemed fine. Looking at Lanie then, I figured I must have been out of my fucking mind.

  It was the flowing skirt, the tight leggings. The headband holding back that short hair. The way her eyes lit up when she looked around the room and noticed me. It was just everything about the girl.