“Oh?” I asked hesitantly. “How’s that?”
“Well, first of all, you’re definitely paying to fix my car, just like you said. But there’s something else I want along with that. We’ll call it payment for emotional distress if that helps.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I deadpanned, prepared to have this woman rake me over the coals.
Her smile was downright smug as she sauntered up to me, stopping a few feet away. “You’re going to hire me as your assistant.”
Jesus, God. And the hits just kept on coming.
* * *
Except for Evan’ssniffles and quiet crying, the first five minutes of the car ride home were made in silence. Usually, my daughter’s tears were enough to undo me, and I wasn’t too stupid to admit I was part of the problem in that sense, since I hated to see her cry and did whatever it took to put a smile back on her face, but, they didn’t faze me in the slightest. I was too pissed off to feel anything else.
I had to hand it to her, Luna Copeland had finagled that whole disastrous situation like a pro. She’d not only walked away with a brand-new job—and I wasn’t speaking of the paint variety that her car would be getting in the very near future—but she’d also haggled the ten paid days off I offered yearly up to two full weeks and bumped the starting pay an additional ten percent. Given how everything had taken place in front of witnesses—one of them being an enforcer of the law—she knew good and well that, unless she did something downright terrible, I was stuck with her.
She’d backed me into a corner, and if there was one thing I hated, it was being backed into a fucking corner.
I was silently seething over the recent turn of events when Evan finally worked up the courage to speak. “Daddy, I’m really sorry,” she said quietly, her voice broken and watery. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, feeling the hold I had on my control start to slip despite her finally dropping the Nate bullshit and calling me daddy again. “I don’t want to hear excuses. You fucked up; right thing to do is own it, so own it. Don’t tell me you didn’t mean to do it, because we both know that isn’t true. You had four freaking letters to stop yourself, for Christ’s sake. Take responsibility for your actions.”
She shocked the hell out of me by sniffling and whispering, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
If only that was enough, anywhere near enough, to make up for what she’d done. “What the hell were you thinking?” I asked, the one question that had been beating around inside my skull since I found out what she’d done. “The girl I know, the one I raised to do the right thing, would never go out of her way to hurt a person the way you did today. You don’t even know her.” She began to cry even harder, but I would not be swayed, not this time. “What in the world possessed you to call a complete stranger such a vile, despicable name?”
“I know it was wrong. I hate that I did something like that to someone Grandma and Grandpa like so much. If they like her, she can’t be all bad. I just saw her, and I thought of how there’s no chance of you ever getting back together with Mom if you’re... you know... with other women. And I just got so mad.”
I pulled into the designated parking spot I paid extra for every month and threw my car into park before turning to look at my daughter. “Jesus, Evan, please listen to me. Hear me. Whether or not something was actually happening between me and Ms. Copeland, or another woman, it wouldn’t matter. You mother and I aren’t getting back together, sweetheart. I know that was a hope you held on to while we were going through the divorce, but you have to let it go. It’s never going to happen. Your mom and I, we didn’t make each other happy. Now that we’re no longer together, maybe we both have a shot at finding some of that happy. Wouldn’t you want that for us?”
She let out a hiccup and reached up to bat at the tears streaking her cheeks with the heels of her palms, keeping her focus on her lap. “I do,” she said so softly it was a wonder I heard her over the air conditioner. “And I know you’re happier now.” She looked at me with those big blue eyes, tears swimming, and I had to fight back the desire to tell her it was all okay, that everything would work out, that I forgave her. “I really am sorry.”
My brows crept higher. “Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?”
I caught the small wince that swept across her face before she looked down at her lap, tugging at a loose thread on the cuff of her hoodie. “Maybe a little of both,” she muttered. “What happens now? Is that lady going to press charges?” There was no mistaking the tremble of fear in my daughter’ voice.
I pulled in a deep breath and laid it all out for her, everything I discussed with my parents and Luna. The agreement we came to wasn’t going to make Evan happy, that was for damn sure, but it was better than legal action, hands down.
“I think it goes without saying that you’re ground.”
“For how long?”
“I was leaning toward forever, but your grandparents talked me into a month.”
Her eyes went so wide I was almost afraid they’d fall right out of her skull. “A month? That’s—” she squeaked, but when I cut my eyes at her, she swallowed thickly. “That’s total fair.”
“Damn straight it is. That means no TV, no phone, no computer or tablet. You get to go old school and read books. And you’re going to be working at the general store after school and on weekends until you’ve paid off the cost of the damage you did to Ms. Copeland’s car.”
Her mouth fell open, aghast. “So I have to work there for free?”
My brows fell into a straight line, my eyes narrowing in what I dubbed the Don’t-Mess-With-Me dad look. As usual, that look had her clamping her mouth shut. “Damn straight you’re working for free, and it’s going to take you a good long while to pay off what you did. But that’s not all.”
She made a sound between a scoff and a choke. “What else?”
“Once a month you’re going to clean Ms. Copeland’s house from top to bottom. And you’re damn well going to do a good job,” I added quickly when it looked like she was about to argue. “None of this is up for discussion or bargaining. It’s this, or she presses charges.” I looked at my daughter sternly as she crossed her arms over her chest and sunk back deeper into her seat with a pout. “What’s it going to be?”
She chewed on her bottom lip so hard I wondered how it wasn’t bleeding before finally answering. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, huh?”
“Not one bit.” I shot her a wicked smirk. “Welcome to the consequences of your actions, sweetheart. They’re going to suck.”