It wasn’t until he stepped out and addressed the man at my desk that I followed in his footsteps.
“Mr. Blanchard! To what do I owe this pleasure?”
My eyes flicked down to Wyatt’s ass again, and I chastised myself. It felt like my mind was spinning out of control. I tried to focus on myself and the fact that my phone was ringing, but despite his body falling away from my own, the scent of his cologne merely blossomed. It reminded me of a meadow full of wildflowers surrounded by a thick, dense forest.
Then, my bubble burst.
“Where-iz-sh-zz-sh-she?” my father slurred.
My eyes widened as my father’s drunken voice hit my ears.
“Bella! Where’s-zz-my-girl?”
I rushed up to his side. “Dad, what in the world are you doing?”
He glared at me. “You-nee-t-come-home.”
He stumbled toward me, and I caught him in my arms before he started hiccupping. Mortified, I felt myself flushing with embarrassment from my toes to my nose. I didn’t dare look around, though. I didn’t dare gaze into the eyes of those watching my father in horror.
I’m going to lose my fucking job.
“Dad, where’s Mom? How did you—?”
He pointed his finger at my chest. “No-talk-back. Juss-zz-get-in-th-car.”
My eyes widened. “You drove? Are you absolutely insane?”
Tears prickled the back of my eyes as my father tried to speak. But, the more he said, the more slurred his words became.
“Dad, I’m calling you a cab. You have to go home so I can get back to—”
He leaned heavily against me. “Come-home-prinzzess. Mom-don’t-cook-zz-oup-like-you.”
I shoved him upright. “All right, let’s go. Come on, out the door.”
“Hey, what-are-y—Bella!”
I hissed into his ear, “This is my first day on the job. Do you want bills paid this month? Because if you do, you’ll leave. Now.”
Dad turned around and stumbled on his feet, so I jutted my arms out to catch him. And as we stood by the front door of a job I knew I wouldn’t have much longer, my father glared at me.
“Dad, don’t. Please, don’t make a scene with my boss—”
He spat while he talked. “Don’t. You. Dare. Talk. To. Me. That. Way.”
At least he’s enunciating now.
“Dad, I’m clocked in. I’m working. It’s the middle of the day. You need to go home and sleep this off.”
He glared at me. “Do. As. I. Say. Get. Outside. Now.”
I cupped his cheeks and lowered my voice. “I know you’re drunk, and I know you won’t remember this, but forgive me anyway because I’m shoving you out that door and doing what I need to do to save my job. Got it?”
Confusion wafted over his features. “Wha-huh?”
But, before I could spin Dad around and shove him out the front door, Wyatt stepped up beside me. “May I be of assistance?”
Dear God, let me drop dead now. “No, sir. I’ve got it, I promise.”
Dad’s eyes widened. “You?”
I looked up at Wyatt as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Me?”
Dad pointed his trembling finger at Wyatt’s face. “You-work-zz-for-him!?”
I slipped between the two men and put my hands on Dad’s shoulders. “I’m begging you, just stop. Let me get you home—I’ll make up the time after hours, Mr. Remington, I swear—and then we can—”
Dad lunged at Wyatt. “No-girl-of-mine-zz-workin-for-you!”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
Wyatt took everything in stride, though. “Would you like to tour our facilities? Possibly see where your daughter is working now? Because I think once you see how well we’ll be taking care of her, you won’t hesitate to approve of her new position.”
I balked. “First off, I don’t need my father’s permission for anything.”
Dad hiccupped, and I cupped my hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t fire back.
“And secondly, I’m sorry. Let me get him home, and when I come back, I’ll stay later to make up the time. Is that okay?”
Wyatt didn’t acknowledge me, though. Instead, he kept speaking with my father. “We’ve also got some refreshments in the kitchen. There’s lemonade. Sodas. Water.”
Dad started wavering on his feet. “Guezz-water-woul—hiccup!”
I cringed. “Let’s just—”
Dad leaned toward Wyatt. “You-got-a-deal. Lead-th-way.”
To my horror, Dad started wobbling and stumbling after Wyatt, trying to keep up the pace as my boss started giving my drunk-ass father a tour. I slowly looked over at the investor, still standing off to the side of my desk, and he was balking with the same shock that wafted through my body. The man’s eyes turned back to me, and he shot me a nasty look. One I probably deserved for bringing the drama of my personal life into the office—on my first damn day of work.
Nevertheless, I hurried after my boss and my father as they walked down the hallway. Wyatt showed him where the restroom was and the kitchen. He was kind enough to retrieve a bottle of water for my father and stood there while he guzzled it back.
But then Wyatt turned to me. “Miss Bella, go make sure Mr. Blanchard doesn’t need anything while he waits.”
My eyes darted between the two men. “Sir, I think maybe I should take my father—”
“Now, please.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
I scurried out of the room and straightened my back before walking up to Mr. Blanchard. He didn’t seem to be in a mood to talk, but I engaged him long enough to figure out that he wanted a hot mug of coffee. Great choice because I needed one myself.
However, when I backtracked into the kitchen, no one was in there.
“What the fuck?” I whispered.
I looked around for Wyatt and my father before I relegated myself to making a pot of coffee. I poured two fresh mugs before adding a bit of cream and sugar, then took the cups back out into the main lobby. I set one near my things before handing the other to Mr. Blanchard.
But, he didn’t even take it from me. “Did I say I wanted cream and sugar?”
I prepared my words carefully. “My apologies, sir. It won’t take me but a minute to whip up another—”
Wyatt appeared behind me. “I’m sure your coffee is simply wonderful, Miss Bella. Isn’t that right, Mr. Blanchard?”
I looked up at him as the two men stared off with one another. And then reluctantly, the investor took the mug out of my hand.
“I’m sure it is,” he mumbled.
Wyatt nodded. “Wonderful.”
I lowered my voice. “Sir?”
He peeked down at me. “He’s in the last room on the right down the hallway. I laid him down on a couch in there. He can sleep it off and catch a ride home with you once you clock out at your regular time. Okay?”
I nodded softly. “Oh-okay. Um, thank you.”
His eyes whipped back to the investor. “Mr. Blanchard! Follow me. We’ll have privacy in my office to speak.”
“About time,” the man murmured.
He shoved the untouched mug of coffee back into my hands, and I figured, hell, more for me to choke down. I watched the two men walk down the hallway and load onto the elevator. The second the doors closed, I chugged down the coffee. I growled and shook my head before returning the mug to the kitchen. And just for shits and giggles, I walked down the hallway to poke my head into the room where my father supposedly slept.