Griffin is a businessman. Even if he didn’t start out that way, he is now, and I bet he can read me like a book. I bet he saw through that really clumsy attempt at dodging his question and now just has more concerns about me.
I don’t want him to be concerned. I don’t want him to be worried. If I’m going to do this job for my family and hopefully get myself some approval and acceptance, I have to be smarter. I can’t let what may or may not be some burgeoning feelings for Griffin cloud my judgment.
Getting approval and status in my family is what I’ve always wanted. Even as a little girl, I just wanted my father to be proud of me and to be as important as my brother was. I realize that I’m maybe holding on to these issues for a little too long, but it finally feels like I have a chance to get what I’ve always wanted.
I went to school for Business and Hotel Management with the idea that I’d help my father out with one of his side businesses. I thought I could start there, manage a hotel, and prove that I’m worthy of him. I put a lot of time and effort into getting my degree and graduated with the top honors.
He didn’t come to my graduation ceremony. Not my undergraduate ceremony and not my MBA ceremony. And when I got home and finally confronted him about it, instead of letting me work in his hotel, he offered me this job instead.
And so I had a choice. I could either feel like I wasted all that time getting these degrees, or I could do as he asked me and hopefully after that he’d give me what I want. If this goes well, I’m hoping he gives me control of a hotel, or maybe more of them.
But as I play with Lacey, I can’t help but wonder. I don’t know if that’s actually going to happen.
Will my father ever actually accept me? And is this worth it?
I spend all day thinking about those questions, and I’m as torn as I was at the start by the time Lacey’s dinner rolls around. I feed her just as Griffin calls to let me know that he’ll be late again.
That’s fine by me. I like hanging around his place, and anyway, he’s actually paying me pretty well. I like having money that I actually earned myself.
I put Lacey to bed a couple hours later, and then I’m on my own. As I drift out of her room, I find myself in Griffin’s room.
I’ve been trying to avoid this, but I can’t help myself. I start by opening his drawers, one by one, and look inside of them.
There’s nothing interesting. Shirts, t-shirts, underwear, and socks. As I dig through the sock drawer, I feel something hard and metal. I wrap my fingers around it and realize with a start that I’m holding a gun.
I stare at the gun for a second before putting it back. I don’t know if it’s loaded, but I hope he’s not stupid enough to keep a loaded gun around with a little kid in the house.
Owning a gun isn’t a big deal. I move on to the closet. There’s nothing special, just shoes and more clothes. In the back of the closet is a box, an old-looking shoebox. I slide that out and open it up.
Inside are letters. Lots and lots of letters. I start to leaf through them and I quickly realize that they’re all from the same person, a woman named Vicky Marsh.
Just as I go to read one of the letters, I hear a noise. Panicking, I shove the letters back into the box and return the box to its place in the closet just as I hear the front door shut.
“Hello?” Griffin calls out.
I get up and run from his room. He comes into the kitchen just as I slip back down the hall.
He smiles at me. “How’s it going?” he asks.
“Lacey’s in bed, I was just putting her down.” I say it quickly, a little too quickly, and I’m a little out of breath from running.
He smiles and narrows his eyes. “That’s good,” he says. “She give you any trouble?”
“No, not at all,” I say, calming myself down.
“Good.” He puts his bang down. “Listen, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure,” I say, gathering my things. I need to get the heck out of there. “Anything.”
“Come out with me tomorrow night. I’ll hire a babysitter for Lacey.”
I pause, surprised. “Aren’t I the babysitter?”
He laughs. “I’ll hire another one. Come out with me. I’ll show you a good time, I promise.”
I bite my lip. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel rushed. “Okay,” I blurt out. “Sure.”
“Good. Heading out?”
I nod. “Gotta head home.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No, that’s okay,” I say, quickly walking away. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.”
“Okay,” he says. “See you.”