Last on the List (Wait With Me #5)
Amy Daws
Dedicated to Book Tok…thank you for making me a #1 Best Seller this year. And if this book is dirtier than all my other books, I blame you entirely.
“This is going to be the worst summer of my life,” Everly grumbles from the office chair beside me. “I wish Mom wasn’t leaving. She ruined my whole summer.”
I swivel to face my daughter’s slumped frame. Her feet are dangling off the edge of her chair, scraping over the bald office carpet in my boardroom with tiny, frustrated kicks. I reach over and tug on her blond ponytail. “Don’t be sad, kid. I have so many plans for you this summer. You’re going to be too busy to miss your mom.”
My eleven going on twenty-year-old looks up at me with her lethal robin-blue eyes that make me doubt my manhood every single day. “Can’t wait,” she mumbles flatly.
I sigh heavily and chuck her chin. “We just need to find the right nanny to help us out, and then we’re set. It would help if you weren’t so picky.”
“Dad, the last one said her favorite TV show was Maury,” Everly snipes, shoving the last one’s résumé in front of me. “That’s the show that Mom grounded me from watching because one time when I saw it on TV, a woman took out her fake tooth, spanked her own butt, and said she loved doing drugs.”
My chest contracts with that horrific image, reminding me yet again of all the things I missed out on after separating from Everly’s mom. “I never heard about you watching that.”
Everly turns forward with a shrug. “Mom told me not to tell you. She said you were too busy to be bothered by it.”
My jaw cracks as I turn my frustration toward the boardroom table instead of my kid. I tap the clicker of my pen insistently. My ex, Jessica, and I have been divorced since Everly was two, and most of the time, we have a great co-parenting relationship. Some would say admirable. But Jess has a habit of placing me in the “need to know” category when our daughter is at her house. She claims it’s because I’m busy with my company, and she doesn’t want to bother me with things she can handle. But I have told her time and time again, Everly is my exception to that rule every fucking time. I want to know what goes on in her life…even if it’s watching a horrible television show.
I’ll admit, things are a bit hectic for me. My franchise development company is in the process of partnering with another company in Denver, which would double the size of Fletcher Industries here in Boulder, Colorado. Honestly, the merger is huge for more than just my corporation. It will bring in more jobs and business to the growing city of Boulder and make my corporation that I started in my twenties the largest developer in the Rocky Mountains.
This is huge for me.
Which is why the fact that Jessica took a film job in Bulgaria for three months this summer of all summers is a bit of an inconvenience.
Normally, I only have Everly three out of four weekends a month. Friday night through Monday morning. That was something we set up in our custody agreement once Everly started school. It was important to Jess and me to ensure Everly’s school life did not get disrupted too much during the week. And having Everly on the weekends meant I could give her quality time away from my office. I kill myself Monday through Friday so that when I pick Everly up at six o’clock on Friday, I can give her my full attention. I don’t take a single work call until she is fast asleep…never mind have a social life. The few friends I have rarely hear a word from me on my Everly weekends. They respect the boundary.
However, it’s been ten years since I’ve had Everly at my house full time. Which means, like it or not, I need to step it up and find someone to help me with her. I want this summer to go well. Everly is getting older, and eventually, it will be her choice whose house she spends more time at. Mine or her mom’s. I would love it if, after this summer, she would want to spend more time with me. It won’t be long before she’s graduating from high school and going off to college to God knows where.
My chest aches at that thought, so I clear my throat to refocus on the task at hand before I let thoughts of the future overwhelm me. “Well, we still have one more person to interview. Hopefully, the agency saved the most qualified for last.” I clench my jaw to hide my doubt. The agency owner and I haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye these past few weeks. I’d feel mildly guilty about being so high maintenance if she wouldn’t have just sent me a candidate who listed the Maury Show as her favorite bingeable series.
Jesus Christ.
I glance down at my watch and frown. “Our last interviewee is officially late.”
“Might as well scratch her off the list now,” Everly drones. “You flip your lid whenever we’re running late.”
“I do not flip my lid.” Those words feel strange coming out of my mouth.
The small smile on the corner of Everly’s lips shows me she thinks I’m full of shit. God, she really makes me wonder who the parent is sometimes.
A loud bang thunders from behind us, turning both Everly’s and my focus to the bank of glass windows that separates us from the rest of my office. My eyes widen when a blur of orange comes streaking by, running straight for the boardroom entrance. The person flings it open so fast that it thuds against the wall with a thunderous crack and has both Everly and me flinching.