Chapter 9

            Scott couldn’t believe what he did yesterday. She seemed to have brushed it off, but still. He was going to wait a few months before he made a move on her. But thanks to his carelessness, he might have blown it. His plan was to get to know her better on a friendship level and ease in, but that plan was shot to hell now.

            “Dad, are you okay?” Clay asked from across the dinner table.

            Scott looked up. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

            “Because you got this far-off look on your face, and you’re just poking at your food. I mean, you’re not the best cook in the world, but it’s not that bad.”

            Scott snorted with amusement. “Thanks,” he said wryly. He looked down at the half-burnt meatloaf and overcooked vegetables. He couldn’t believe that he had the ability to amass a billion-dollar fortune, create the most in-demand construction company in the U.S., and be a decent single father, yet he still couldn’t cook; especially after being a bachelor for seven years. Oh well, I guess I can’t be perfect at everything.

            “What’s for dessert?” Clay asked.

            “Fruit cocktail in a can,” Scott answered.

            “Again? Oh, I mean, that’s great,” Clay corrected quickly.

            Scott chuckled. “Well, you know what happened when I tried to bake a cake.”

            “Yeah. The house smelled like smoke all day.”

            “That’s right.”

            “I bet you Hank’s mom got good dessert.”

            “I’m sure she does, but we don’t want to impose. We don’t want to make a habit of eating at her house or begging for crumbs of dessert.”

            “I don’t think she minds.”

            “Probably not, but I think it’s best for now.” Plus, I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.

            “Okay, Dad.”

            They finished their dinner and went to their separate corners. Clay went upstairs to finish his homework, and Scott went to his office to do some paperwork and to check his emails.

            Since Scott lived his life incognito, he ran his company through his VP. He was trustworthy and had been with him since the beginning. He logged on to the Kelscot server and got to work. Scott read the email that the VP had sent, keeping him informed of what was going on. A board meeting was scheduled for next week. Scott didn’t care because he hadn’t attended a board meeting in seven years, and he wasn’t planning to start again anytime soon. His secretary had scanned some invoices into an email for him to sign off on. He printed them out, signed them, and scanned them to send back to her. He speed-read the reports that had been forwarded to him by the department directors’ secretaries. When he was done, it was almost ten o’clock. “Shit,” he mumbled. He had to get Clay to bed, and he was thirty minutes late doing it. Scott dashed upstairs and went into Clay’s room. 

            Scott smirked when he saw his son sound asleep on the floor with his video game on. He walked over to the desk, making sure Clay had finished his homework, which he had. Scott shut down the PlayStation and cut the TV off.  Then he pulled the covers down on the bed. He carefully picked Clay up and placed him in bed. He covered his son with the sheet and comforter. Scott kept the AC pretty low in the evenings, and he didn’t want Clay to catch a chill in the middle of the night. Scott couldn’t sleep when he was hot. He left his son’s room, closing the door behind him.

            Scott headed back downstairs to grab a night cap before he turned in. Before he could get to the small bar in the living room, the doorbell buzzed.

            “Who in the hell is that this late?” He walked to the door and looked out the small window that was at his level. It was Kat. It had to be some sort of emergency. The last and only time she had come over after ten on a weekday was when someone had broken into her house. It had happened three days after her husband had left her three years ago. She had heard a noise downstairs. Hank had, too. When she had investigated, she saw two men rummaging through her living room. She grabbed Hank and ran out the back door to Scott’s house. She had banged on the door like someone was chasing them. Scott had let them in, and he called the police. The cops had caught the thieves on their way out of Kat’s house. It turned out they were guys Kat’s ex-husband had owed money to. Since Kat’s ex was long gone, they took it upon themselves to break into the house and steal whatever they could to recoup the money Hank Sr. had stiffed them. They had told the cops they didn’t think anyone was home because there was no car in the driveway. What they didn’t know was Kat’s snake of an ex had taken their only car when he left her, leaving her no transportation.

            Scott opened the door. “Kat, what is it?” he asked with concern.

            She had a white wrap around her shoulders, clutching it to her body, and she had on sandals. Her shorts were so short Scott could barely see them. “Oh, I was restless, and . . . I saw the light on. Can I come in for a minute?”

            He looked at her. “Kat, who is watching Hank while you’re over here?”

            “Oh, my girlfriend is getting her house bombed for roaches, and she needed a place to stay for a few days. So, I told her she could stay with me to save on hotel costs. She’s at the house with Hank. She and Hank are fast asleep, but he’s not alone.”

            “Oh. Well, it’s late, and Clay’s asleep.”

            “I promise I’ll be quiet as a mouse. I just need someone to chat with for a minute or two.”

            Scott didn’t see the harm. “All right. Would you like to share a night cap?”

            “I would love it.”

            They went into the living room.

            “Name your poison,” Scott said as he walked behind the mahogany bar.

            “Vodka,” she said as she let the wrap fall off her shoulders. No wonder her shorts were so short — they were pajama boy shorts. She was wearing a white baby-doll shirt with spaghetti straps that he could see through. Her nipples were straining against the fabric.

            Uh oh.