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Three Days Later

“So how are you getting along with my daughter?” James’s voice was hard from the other end of the phone.

“Is she following your directions well?”

My throat clamped together.

“I’m just kidding!” He laughed. “I know my daughter is doing everything perfectly.”

I forced a laugh of my own. I’d always known James to be a funny man. But this type of joke was dangerous. He almost had me shitting my pants.

“James, you never stop being funny.” I chuckled again.

“I know you’re taking care of my daughter well. We’ve been friends for over twenty-two years. I trust you.”

It became hard to swallow again. Out of all days, James had chosen today, three days after I made out with his daughter in my conference room, to call for a checkup.

“Of course,” I cleared my throat. “Of course, you can trust me…” not to fuck your daughter. “…to take care of your daughter. I mean, she’s taking care of mine.”

James rereleased another laughter. “Our daughters should be besties now, but your old self decided to get married late in life.”

I tried to ignore the pang of guilt that pricked my skin. Each of his words kept giving reasons why I shouldn’t indulge his daughter. Why I should never have.

“You know I had business to attend to first.” I cleared my throat. Unlike James, who believed success may sometimes be gained when you find true love, I believed success could only be achieved when you work tooth and bone for it. And I did.

Not until I was completely satisfied did I decide to settle down.

“No. You had to explore all kinds of women first.”

That too.

“I was looking for the right one.”

“Ah ah. And how long did that take? Ten? twelve years?”

He had a point. At the end of the day, I didn't think I settled with the right woman. “Did you call to bring up my past?”

“Hoe phase,” James snickered.

“What?”

“Evie calls it… hoe phase.”

I raised my brows in confusion. “What's that?”

“She’d said it was a slang for—”

A loud crash barreled through my ear as I quickly pulled the phone away.

“James?”

A bit of grunt followed. “I'm okay. My wood just…. Ugh. Some of the woods I had arranged just fell. I'll call you later.”

The call ended, and I didn't know whether I should be glad or sad. But I definitely could tell the emotion that slowly crawled up my gut. Guilt.

It seemed to get worse each time. Every time I got too close to her, it intensified. I didn't like it. I didn't like that I couldn't speak to my best friend freely.

I intended to tell him about Evie’s feat in the conference room. But guilt had clawed my throat. It’d silence me. I didn’t want this.

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