My Dad's Boss(6)

We sat that way for the last few minutes of the video, pressed against  each other, his arm around me, my hand in his. I wished the video were  three times longer because I didn't want to move. Being this close to  him felt so intimate. Almost like being his girlfriend for real.

But I knew we couldn't let anyone see, so thirty seconds before the end  of the presentation, I let go of him and wiggled my hips forward until I  had enough space to rise, slip my shoes back on, and pick my way toward  the lights.

The second I flipped the lights on, there was applause. Actual applause.  People were hugging Mom and Dad, but they were congratulating me. And  unless I was very much mistaken, it wasn't the standard pat on the head  adult kids sometimes got from their parents' friends. Everyone seemed  genuinely impressed.

Compliments flew from all sides by the time I made it to my parents. Dad  gave me a long hug and then turned to his friends, telling them that  there was cake in the dining room. Mom gave me a hug and didn't stop,  tears streaming down her face onto my shoulder. "Cassie, that was  amazing. Thank you so much."

By the time I'd worked my way into the dining room, I'd received so many  kind words that I'm pretty sure my face was bright red. Of course, that  could have had something to do with the second glass of wine I'd  snagged.

Mom handed me a big slice of vanilla cake with fluffy butter-cream  icing. It looked delicious. Then she gave a piece to the person behind  me. It was Nick.

"That was incredible," he said to me, and then took the cake from my mom. "You have a very talented daughter."

"I agree," Mom said, her smile huge. "I have no idea where she found all  those old videos. And how did you get a recording of Grandpa Jack?"

"I have my ways," I said with a grin.         

     



 

"But we have to talk about that picture of me in my bathing suit on the Las Vegas trip. You can edit that out, can't you?"

"I can … " I said, trailing my voice so that the unspoken words were "for a price."

"Better stay on this one's good side," Nick said with a smile. "Otherwise her next video might be an exposé."

Mom laughed, and Nick addressed me again. "How did you get all those  different elements, the pictures, the letters, the videos, the  interviews, to work so seamlessly together? And all set to music, too."

"It took a lot of time," I said honestly. Most computers had some kind  of automatic slide show function, but this was many levels above that.  I'd planned every second of the video out ahead of time and made it all  work together.

"I wish I had the time to do that," he said. "Or the know-how. I  inherited my house from my parents, and there are boxes of old  photographs, journals, old clothes, letters, and more. The entire closet  in a spare bedroom is full of their things. And their parents' things.  I'm not sure how many generations it goes back."

"You really should scan the photos at least," I told him. "Then you can  save them in the cloud and have them available anytime you want."

"Yeah," he said with a not very enthusiastic sigh. "That's on the to-do list someday."

Mom jumped in. "But you don't just want hundreds of pictures all in some  digital folder somewhere. A video like this is something you can enjoy  for the rest of your life. You could hire someone-" Mom paused, and I  looked at her as I took a bite of cake. "I know! You could hire Cassie."

Nick turned to stare at my mom at the same time I started to choke on a  mouthful of cake. He pounded on my back as I coughed, and Mom took this  opportunity to expand on her ideas. "She can go through all the boxes.  Organize and scan the pictures. Go through the old letters and journals.  Make a video like she did for us. Or one of those photo books, or both.  She's great at that kind of stuff."

I'd stopped sputtering, but Nick's hand was still on my back, rubbing  slightly. Then he moved it abruptly as if he just realized he was doing  it.

Finally, he spoke. "I couldn't ask her to help me with that-"

"But she's been looking for a part-time job this summer, and she hasn't found anything. Nothing at all."

Gee, thanks, Mom, I wanted to say. But instead I looked at her through  watery eyes as I sipped some wine. Finally, I recovered enough to speak.  "I'm sure Ni-Mr. Conner can hire a professional if he wanted something  like that."

I looked up at him, expecting him to agree with me, but he was looking  at me speculatively. "That looked pretty professional to me."

"See? It's perfect," Mom said, beaming. "When can she start?"

"Mom-"

"Honey, he liked your video. Everyone did. If Nick wants something like  that to preserve his family's memories and you need a job, why shouldn't  you work together?" Without waiting for my input, she turned to Nick.  "When can she start?"

He hesitated, and I held my breath, not sure what he was going to  say-and not sure what I wanted him to say. Could I handle working with  him if we couldn't be together? "Well, I'll need to show her where  everything is and what I want done … " Nick appeared to be thinking aloud,  but then he turned to me. "I have to be at the school for summer  classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. But Tony takes Tuesdays and  Thursdays. So how about a couple of hours in the afternoon on those  days?"

It took me a minute to remember that "Tony" must be Mr. Green, the  assistant principal. Not that that mattered. What mattered is that I'd  be working with Nick. In his house, twice a week. Was that smart, given  what had almost happened between us out on the deck?

But I was beyond thinking about whether this was a good idea. This was a  man I really liked, and now I'd get a chance to see him a couple times a  week-and get paid for the privilege? It was a no-brainer.

"I'm in."





* * *





The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I didn't get to talk to Nick  again, but I had fun anyway. Everyone kept saying how much they loved  the video, and my parents beamed every time they saw me.

Things went great up until the very end. Just as some guests were  gathering up their things in preparation to leave, the door opened, and  three people came in. Mr. and Mrs. Harper and their son. Brad.
         

     



 
Crap.

My dad was in his study, showing some new books he'd gotten to his  friends, but my mom stepped up to greet her friends. "Sara, Tim, you  made it!"

"We drove straight through, only stopping to drop off Ste-Brad's  friend," Mrs. Harper said, giving my mom a hug. So Stephanie had spent  the week with Brad and his parents. Mr. Harper leaned down and kissed  her on her cheek, but when Brad tried to do the same, Mom stepped to the  side and his quick kiss landed in her hair. I grinned-Mom had my back  when it counted.

But I was uneasy with Brad here, a discomfort that went beyond just  seeing my ex-boyfriend. It took me a minute to figure out why--I think  the two glasses of wine had gone to my head. The problem wasn't that  Brad was here. The problem was that Brad thought Nick and I were dating.

If he saw Nick here, he might say something. I scanned the room and saw  that the principal had already figured that out. He had his suit coat  draped over his arm and headed toward the front door as Mom ushered the  Harpers into the dining room for cake. Nick paused at the entryway and  gave me a quick wave. I waved back and then said goodbye to some of my  old teachers who were leaving.

Following them out the door, I looked up and down the street, curious to  see where Nick had parked. He'd gotten here late, so it could be some  ways off. Mentally flipping a coin, I turned left, plunging through a  swarm of gnats and other assorted Florida insects until I reached the  sidewalk. Moving quickly, I saw an interior light go on in an SUV ahead  of me.

"Nick-Mr. Conner," I called out as I rushed up to his car.

He had one hand on his open passenger door. When he saw me, he tossed  his jacket inside and shut it. "I think after tonight you can call me  Nick," he said, and I couldn't read his expression in the dark.

"Okay, Nick. What time on Tuesday? I mean, if you still want to."

"Of course I do."

"Good," I said. "My mom can be a little pushy."

"That can come in handy. Like when she's raising money for the high school."

That was true. My mom did a lot to help the students of Sago Palm. "Umm …  so, maybe one o'clock?"

"That sounds good."

"Do you have any equipment? A scanner? A computer for me to use?" I  couldn't believe I was standing here on this gorgeous evening, with this  gorgeous man, and I was asking about computer equipment.

After a few minutes of discussion, we decided that I'd bring my laptop  and that he'd buy a scanner before Tuesday. "A good one," I said.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, his voice teasing. He moved around the front of the car to the street, and I followed him.