Billionaire's Escort - Page 300

stuff I did in my life.

“Don’t ask.” I laughed.

“You only get that embarrassed by a man if you like him,” she said smugly. “And tonight, we’re going to talk all about it.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to work. I knew what she was saying was exactly the truth. Kaitlin wasn’t going to let me off the hook without drilling me all about what Erik had said and why my face had been totally red.

Chapter Twelve

Erik

“Phone call for you, Erik,” Susan said while she held the phone at the nurses’ station.

It was Christmas Eve, and I hadn’t expected anyone to call me. Pretty much I didn’t expect anyone to call me on any day that I had been there, but on a couple occasions my friends from back in San Francisco had called to chat. And of course Spencer had called a few times, as well.

“Hello,” I said with hesitation.

“Hey,” the voice said.

Instantly, I knew it was my brother Heath. Then all I could think about was that something must have happened to our father. Heath wouldn’t have willingly called me if he didn’t have horrible news. I took a deep breath and prepared myself.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing much. Dad said you called the other day.”

Yeah, I had called like a week earlier, was what I wanted to say. But that was the old me; instead, I tried to be thankful that he was calling now. I loved my brother; I loved my father. They were both important people in my life and I had made the decision to try and mend our broken relationship. I couldn’t do that if I revered back to my old ways.

Although it had taken me a few weeks to get into the hand of group sessions and therapy, I actually felt like I was growing and becoming a better person. The coping skills that Jarrod was teaching me had really helped when I started to feel panicked and I felt more in control of my emotions than I could ever remember feeling.

“Yeah, I just wanted to check in with you guys and let you know how I’m doing.”

“So, you’re still there?”

Again, I had so many sarcastic comments that I wanted to respond with. Of course I was still there; he had just called me and I answered the phone. But I kept my comments to myself and continued to try and have a decent conversation.

“I can send you guys some plane tickets if you’d like to come visit,” I started to say.

“We can’t. It’s busy here.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Heath said, and I genuinely believed him. “So is Dad. He’s been talking about you a lot since you called.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s old, Erik. I wish he could just retire, but he won’t. Keeps saying we’re too busy for him to quit. I tried to explain that I could hire someone to help, but you know how he is.”

I did know how my father was. He was a workaholic. Ever since our mother passed away, work was how our father dealt with his emotions. Instead of talking to anyone or working through his grief, he just worked. And working at a funeral home probably wasn’t the best job to have if you were trying to work through the grief of losing the love of your life.

“Yep, I know.”

“Are you staying there until the New Year?”

“Yep, I’ll be here probably until the end of January.”

“Do you think it will work on you?”

The question was an awkward one, like what I was doing at treatment would magically fix me. But my brother didn’t know about addiction and I certainly couldn’t blame him for wondering if I would be able to stay sober. If you didn’t struggle with addition, it was a mystifying disease.

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