揕et me talk to her,?I growl.
揇ude, if she wanted to talk to you, would I be here making you miserable? By the way, a guy from that homeless camp that freaks you out so much saved my husband抯 life once. He runs the mailroom at a huge company now, and he takes food back there every weekend. You suck.?
Dakota Burns.
I get it now.
I should抳e recognized that barbed tongue sooner.
揑抳e donated coffee there hundreds of times, for your information. I was worried about my daughter and said shit I never meant.?This is ridiculous.
揙kay, and I抦 worried about my friend. I抦 nervous she抯 getting sucked in with some douchebag who抯 just going to break her heart the minute he decides she抯 not good enough with her Seattle-sized shoebox apartment.?
揑 didn抰 mean to cut down her place. I just meant she抎 be safer at my house,?I grind out.
揥hatever. Somebody should抳e chosen his words a little more carefully.?
揇akota??
揙hhh, so you do remember me. Don抰 wear out the name,?she spits.
揌ow pissed is she??
揈hh, on a scale of cold shoulder to scooping your balls out of your butt with a serving spoon, I抎 say she抯 probably somewhere around slashing your tires梠h, wait, except it抯 your driver抯 car. Guess she can抰 do that.?
I look down when I don抰 hear anything else.
She hung up on me.
I don抰 bother calling again. Not while that murder hornet of a woman guards the phone.
At home, I offer to take Destiny out for dinner.
I rattle off a few of her favorite places, even some that would mean driving downtown again. It抯 worth it to have one of my girls back on speaking terms.
But at the Mexican place she picks, she sits across from me in the booth and glares at me all through the first course.
By the time our drinks arrive, I think I抎 have better conversation with a pissed off cougar.
When I抦 picking the last few bites off my plate, I can抰 take it. I quickly pay the bill and step outside.
It isn抰 until we抮e home again that she finally says more than a dozen words. 揑f Eliza never talks to us again because of you, I抦 going to be pissed.?
揥hy do you care so much??I have to know which reason out of a thousand matters most to her.
She crosses her arms.
揝he抯 my friend. A cool, older one. Like, she would have done things with me the way Christa抯 mom does with her.?
I chuckle, rubbing my cheek. 揘o one抯 quite like Christa抯 mom. She抯 been your homeroom mom since kindergarten.?
揧ep. Christa begged her not to since eighth grade, but everyone else thinks she抯 really lucky. Eliza could抳e been that badass, except you chased her away. All because you抮e a growly, selfish grumpbutt and梐nd is anything ever good enough for you, Dad??
揘ot fair,?I flare. 揗y high standards have never been unreasonable.?
Also, that抯 not the point.
揧ou抳e grounded me for solid Bs on science tests棓
揂nd you抮e an honor student because of it. You always turn it around and ace the class, don抰 you??
She puts her hand on her hip, rolling her eyes.
揙h, right. Because God forbid I ever pass with an A-minus. My test grades aren抰 good enough. Eliza抯 apartment isn抰 good enough. Your dumb coffee isn抰 good enough. It needs to be handpicked by flying monkeys and roasted over a volcano. So dumb,?she adds under her breath.
Or so she thinks.
揑 heard that, Dess. It抯 never bad for a CEO to bring new products into his business line. It抯 an evolving industry and that抯 part of the job.?I stop, wondering why I抦 defending myself to my fifteen-year-old daughter.
Guilt is a powerful kind of black magic.
揥hatever. You were an epic jerk to Eliza, but this isn抰 about her and you know it.?She looks away, her little face flushed red with anger.
揟hen what抯 it about? Tell me.?
She chews her lip. A crease lines her forehead.
揧ou抮e kind of a control freak. You weren抰 there when I got mugged. It was a random, crazy thing and you couldn抰 stop it. So now the only thing you can do is criticize Eliza like a total dick.?
揇octor Philiss, you can go to your room,?I growl, stabbing my finger in her room抯 direction.
揋ladly. I抎 say I won抰 come out for a week, but then you抣l probably take the door off. See? Control freak.?She takes off, stomping up the staircase on her way.
I push my face into my palm with a groan that burns my throat.
It抯 amazing. I抳e sealed multimillion-dollar deals and motivated whole teams in the blackest pit of a recession, but when it comes to the people I care about the most?
I抳e got a blind rattlesnake for a tongue.
揇ess??I call after her before it抯 too late, rising from my chair.
揥hat??she flings back at me from the landing.
揑 apologized to her,?I say, stopping next to the stairs and looking up.
She glowers down at me. 揟o Eliza??
I nod.
揥hat did she say??
揝he wouldn抰 take my call.?
揙h my God.?She shoves her face into her palm, peeking out through her fingers. 揧ou apologized over voicemail? Please tell me you didn抰.?
揅lose enough.?I抦 not telling a high schooler that I got my face verbally ripped off by her overprotective friend.
Destiny sighs, gripping the banister. 揑f this doesn抰 work out, promise me you抣l never make a Tinder profile. Like, hire one of those millionaire matchmakers like normal rich guys do...?
揥hy??
揃ecause it抯 over. I love you, but you抮e as graceful as a walrus when it comes to dating.?She climbs the rest of the stairs in silence, less angry and more mortified now.
Hello, knife to the gut.
That shit smarts, even coming from my sassy daughter.
I watch my phone all night, waiting for a call, for a text to come through that gives me a chance to offer her a real apology.
And just as my little bee predicted, nothing happens.
I stare at the screen until after three in the morning with my eyes bleary and bloodshot before I drag my sorry ass to bed.
Sleep doesn抰 come easy.
Especially when I can smell Eliza.
It抯 all in my head, I know.
My sheets were washed since the last time she was here, but I swear they抮e still tormenting me with her scent.
Heartache is a cruel visitor. It always clings the most when you desperately want it gone.
It reminds me that I抳e done the unthinkable, turning into a lovestruck fool.
Emphasis on fool when I floated the l-word梑y text like a chump梐nd of course she didn抰 return it.
My brain rewards my brooding with a feverish slideshow that tastes like the Hawaiian trade winds and tender lips.
Eliza in my arms.
Her smile in my sunlit eyes.
Her tongue radiating passion in my mouth.
Her legs wrapped around me so tight I抦 going to explode.
I wake up in the worst state梙ard, angry, and exhausted.
I know she hasn抰 called or texted before I bother to look at my phone.
God fucking dammit, I hope she抯 at work today.
Because if she抯 not, Destiny is right.
It抯 over, and then my only option is some high-paid cupid setting me up with another arranged relationship. Because the first one worked out so well.
I sit up and bury my face in my hands, swallowing a groan.
Only six a.m. and I抦 already fucking gutted.
Snarling, I punch her contact and call her.
Silence.
Happy Monday, I text. I抎 greatly appreciate it if you抮e available this afternoon for a quick, informal talk with Gina and myself about our winter drink options. Christmas comes earlier every year.
She doesn抰 respond. Hell, reading that back, I wouldn抰 either.
揑diot,?I mutter.
By the time I抦 showered and heading into work after letting Destiny off at the aquarium, I抦 so tense I wonder if I had a staring contest with a Medusa.
I check my email from the back of the car like always.
There抯 no resignation or nastygram from HR about Eliza yet.
Maybe she抯 just hanging me out to dry.
Should I intrude on her space? Or will that just upset her more?
Yeah, never mind. If I抦 even asking the obvious, it抯 probably too late to worry.
Eliza Angelo has had enough of my shit.
I blew it spectacularly, and now I wonder if I抣l ever be whole.
21
Overcaffeinated (Eliza)