I follow Sophie and Isabella to the back, where Sophie rushes Isabella straight through the second door and into the apartment. She slams it shut without so much as a thank you or a kiss my ass. I just roll my eyes. She's simply an ungrateful bitch. That's all there is to it.
I settle in to Cash's executive chair and dial Dad's cell.
"How'd it go?" Dad finally asks after he grudgingly gives me a full account of his day and what he's eaten, as well as a full health assessment. I know he hates having to answer all my questions, but that doesn't stop him from humoring me. He knows I mean well and that it's only because I love him that I keep such a close eye on him.
"Just fine. Mostly," I add, glaring at the closed door and Sophie behind it.
She's probably eavesdropping on my conversation, that classless ho!
I'd called to make sure Dad would be okay for the day before we left. He sounded fine and insisted that I go. He seems fine now, too, which tells me that it won't be long before he's going to want to go back home to Salt Springs.
"Don't let her get to you, hon. Just remember that she wouldn't bother to antagonize you if you didn't have something she wanted. And you do. You have Cash. He's happily married to the most beautiful woman in Georgia. There's not a woman on the planet who stands a chance with him and I'm sure this Sofa person knows it."
I laugh outright at Dad's purposeful slip, thinking to myself that she's probably seen more ass than a sofa.
I'll have to remember and tell Ginger that one. She'll appreciate it.
"I know, Dad, but thanks for the reminder. So, I was calling to see if you needed anything as I come home."
"Not a thing, but don't rush. I'm enjoying some old boxing matches that ESPN is airing. It's Sugar Ray Leonard day and I know how you hate boxing."
I grin. "Are you trying to say that you want me to stay out a little longer, Dad?"
"Of course not! This is your house and you're welcome in it whenever you feel like coming home. All I'm saying is that if you have something else you'd rather do, I'll be perfectly fine and entertained until I fall asleep in this chair."
"Well, I guess I could hang around here for a while and catch up on a few things."
"I know how much you love your job and spending time with that husband of yours. You don't need to explain to me. Stay as long as you want. I'm good to go right where I am."
"If you're sure … "
"I'm positive."
"And if you need something … anything … you'll call, right?"
"Absolutely. You think I wanna suffer the wrath of Olivia by not calling?"
"Keep it up, mister, and I'll bring some chick flicks home and we can have a father-daughter movie night."
"I'm feeling very tired all of a sudden … "
I laugh again. "You just remember that. Call if you need me."
"Will do, hon. Love you."
"Love you, too."
My lips retain their curve as I sit staring at the phone, thinking of how lucky I am to have a father like mine. If left with just my mother while I was growing up, it's hard to tell where I'd be today.
Which makes me think of Isabella. She might well be in the same predicament. And Cash might well be the one person who can save her from a life of who-knows-what.
The door behind me clicks open and I turn to see Isabella easing out and closing it quietly behind her. She walks over to me, twisting her little fingers nervously, and stops just a couple of feet away.
"Is something wrong, Isabella?" I ask.
She nods. "My mom is sick. She asked if someone could work her shift tonight. She said she will make it up tomorrow night."
I guess it's a good thing Dad doesn't need me tonight. "Of course," I reply gently. I almost choke on my next words, which I manage to utter more for this little girl's benefit than her wretched mother's. "Is there something I can do?"
She shakes her head negatively. Thank God.
"Are you feeling okay?"
She nods, her eyes brightening up.
"Maybe Cash could take you out for some ice cream a little later. Give your mom some time to rest."
She nods again, very enthusiastically. "My mom wanted him to take me out for a while so she can rest."
I keep my pleasant expression intact, despite my awful thoughts. "Cash would love that! Should we go tell him?" I ask, standing and holding out my hand. I'm not sure why I offer it. She's nine. It's not like she needs her hand held. But for some reason, I feel like holding it. And she must feel like having it held because she takes it, curling her fingers lightly around mine.