“Didn’t you?”
“No. He didn’t stick around long enough. When I last saw him, I was living at the Eddison Estate. He showed up wanting money for his girlfriend’s kid’s braces. I called him by the wrong name and shut the door. He hasn’t bothered me since.”
Hayes nods, remaining silent for a few minutes. “Do you like men?”
“Sexually? Yeah.”
“No, I mean, do you think they’re all fucking scum?”
“Of course not. My son is a little man after all. I adored my brother Peat. So I like men just fine. Why?”
“Didn’t know if you were the bitter sort.”
“Is this because I haven’t batted my eyes at you today?”
“I’ll be happy if you avoid fucking crying.”
Grinning, I check my phone. “Your low standards allow me to excel.”
“I think you’d do fine if I expected more.”
I focus on him and grin. “You complimented me! Were you drugged this morning? Why are you such a sweetie pie today?”
“I’m ignoring you now.”
“Did it hurt?” I ask.
“What?”
“When you fell from heaven?” I ask, barely keeping a straight face. “You’re a damn angel; I tell ya!”
“I’m seriously fucking considering firing you.”
I pat his arm reassuringly, causing him to glance at me as if I’ve harmed him in some way.
“What?”
Hayes shakes his head, still looking freaked out. I study my fingers and wonder what unknown powers they possess.
We arrive at a blue, craftsman style home on the east side of White Horse. The small lawn is immaculate, and the house looks recently painted.
I climb down from the massive truck and walk to the front porch where a rocking bench rests.
“Here are they keys,” Hayes says, handing them to me. “I’ll email you the security code later.”
“What’s your dad’s name again?”
“Balthazar.”
“Your name makes a lot more sense.”
“Shut up, Candy.”
“You’re so childish,” I tease while following him into the house.
Hayes wants to say something mean, but he keeps his mouth shut and walks down a narrow hallway to a back family room. I’m so busy wondering if he’ll whack his head on the ceiling that I don’t notice the bald old man sleeping in a wide La-Z-Boy chair.
Hayes walks into the adjoining kitchen and ducks to avoid a beam. I hear the caretaker going over Balthazar’s day. The old man ate eggs and oatmeal for breakfast, walked around the yard, and then took his nap in the front of the TV. Hayes looms large over the short, round woman who glances at me.
“My assistant will come by when I can’t,” Hayes says quietly, but his voice remains loud enough to wake Balthazar.
“Gussy,” he mumbles, petting the white cat on his lap. “Who’s the broad?”
“This is my assistant, Candy,” Hayes tells him. “I told you about her.”
“Yeah,” Balthazar says. “She’s a looker.”
“Yeah. She’ll come by and check on you when I’m busy.”
“Pawning me off on others again, huh, son?”
“Save the guilt, old man. I’m not interested.”
Balthazar smiles. “You woke me from my nap. Never could whisper.”
Hayes stretches, scraping his hands on the ceiling.
“Don’t break my shit, boy.”
“Well, this was fun.”
I look at the two men and enjoy their bickering. Hayes notices me smiling and shakes his head.
“Don’t.”
“What’s your cat’s name?” I ask Balthazar.
“Gladys the Cat.”
Hayes says, “My mother’s name was Gladys.”
“I didn’t want to learn a new name,” Balthazar explains.
The two men don’t share a single physical resemblance. Hayes is larger than life; Balthazar is tiny. My boss has an olive tint to his skin while his father looks like he’ll burst into flames if in the sun for too long. Hayes has darker than sin eyes; Balthazar possesses sparkling blue ones. Clearly, Gussy didn’t gain anything genetic from his old man.
I feel Hayes wanting to leave already. He doesn’t have to say anything or even gesture for me to get moving. I simply feel his tension amp up. We’re in sync already, and I can usually tell when he wants fresh coffee before he yells for a refill.
Now Hayes wants to leave. I don’t know if he’s worried I’ll embarrass him with his dad or if his father will be the one to do the embarrassing. I just know Hayes wants to get the hell out of the house.
I wave goodbye to Balthazar, who watches me while petting his cat. Hayes is already at his truck by the time I reach the porch.
“What’s the hurry?”
“He needs his nap.”
“He seems nice.”
“He is.”
Hayes climbs into his truck and then leans over to help pull me into the passenger seat.
“Are you embarrassed by me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I grin at him. “You don’t look like your dad.”
“Don’t start shit with me, Candy.”
“Ah, the answers are falling into place,” I say, buckling myself into the seat. “What next?”
“I need to run by a few sites, and then we’ll go to lunch.”
“Is this the house you grew up in?”