Maybe the comment his mother made about us being back together rattled her a little too much, brought up feelings of inadequacy or something.
Damn. I really needed to get my master’s degree.
I shuffled the lettuce leaves around, thinking about what his mother had said over lunch. How happy she was that we were “back together.” And Brett hadn’t challenged her one ounce on it. I figured he would have, that he would have told her we were just coworkers and that I was working alongside him a lot, so he’d invited me on a whim to come see them again since we were back in each other’s lives. Professionally, of course. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t corrected her, and part of me didn’t want him to. Part of me was happy that he hadn’t corrected his mother, especially with how broadly his father had smiled at it.
They were both happy we were supposedly “back together,” and the idea made my stomach flutter.
But were we really? Or had Brett simply been trying to avoid an awkward conversation?
My cell phone rang out on my desk, and I didn’t recognize the number. I sent the number to my voicemail and continued poking around at my salad, but the number quickly called back. I shot it to voicemail again, and I didn’t even get my damn hand off my phone before the number called back.
Whoever it was, it had to be important. So, I put my fork down and picked up the call.
“This is Olivia Masters speaking,” I said.
“Wow. Your voice sounds so professional.”
I tensed as Daniel’s voice wafted over my cell phone receiver. I pulled my phone out and looked at the number. Holy shit. It was my father’s cell phone number. How had I not caught that before?
Wait, how did he have my number?
“How did you get this number?” I asked as I put the phone back to my ear.
“I called your mother and told her how dinner went. When I asked her for it, she gave it to me,” he said.
“Great,” I said flatly.
“I was wondering if you wanted to meet up again for dinner. Or maybe coffee. Possibly breakfast this weekend or something?” he asked.
“You know, I’m kind of busy this weekend.”
“Well, then we could do dinner again. Or I could bring lunch to wherever you work. Your boss doesn’t overwork you or anything like that, does he?”
“You know, it’s really not a good idea to have lunch in my office,” I said as I ate my fucking lunch in my office.
“I’d really like to see you again, Olivia.”
“Daniel, it’s just that—”
“What? What is it? Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it. I want to sit down and spend time with my daughter. Like I should have all those years ago,” he said.
“Well, if you want me, then you’ll also get the guy I’m seeing. Because he’ll be coming with me.”
I don’t know what caused me to blurt it out. I don’t know why in the world I said it. But something about how he had used my childhood against me to get me to see him again made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t trust the man at all. And the more time I spent around him, the more thankful I was that he’d never been in my life to begin with. It was harsh, sure. But I had no plans on sitting down with him alone and talking with him again.
“That’s fine, Olivia. I’d love to meet the man my daughter is seeing,” he said.
I cringed at that word. Daughter.
He gave up being able to call me that when he chose pills over his family.
“What are you really doing here, Daniel?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean, here. In Seattle. What are you really doing here?”
“I don’t understand your question.”
I snickered. “Of course you don’t. All men have that selective hearing thing going on. What are you really doing back in Seattle? Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you assuming I ever left Seattle?”
I felt my blood boil in my veins. My vision dripped with red. My hand clamped down onto my phone so tightly I thought it was going to shatter in my hands. Had he really not left? Had he really been in Seattle this entire fucking time? And he hadn’t once sought me out until now?
“When do you want to get dinner?” I asked curtly.
“Anytime is okay with me. Whenever you and your boyfriend are free. I’ve got all the time in the world,” Daniel said.
I wanted to throw my phone against the damn wall.
“I’ll talk with him and shoot you a text. But for future reference, don’t call me during work hours. I won’t pick up again,” I said.
“Duly noted,” Daniel said.
I hung up the phone and slammed it down onto my desk. I pushed away from my salad, no longer hungry. I stood from my chair as my body coursed with unused energy and anger, with no outlet for it. I slammed my palms into the wall and bent over. I drew in deep breaths through my nose and shoved them out of my mouth. My entire body shook. I slipped out of my heels to make myself more stable.