Take Me Home for Christmas (Whiskey Creek #5)(30)
Author: Brenda Novak

He shut the book. “Maybe we can get you an online typing tutor.”

She curved her lips into a smile. “If you don’t mind letting me borrow this laptop, I’ll take the clerical work home and do it on my own time since I’m slow, if that’s okay.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose—as if hiring her was the worst mistake he’d ever made. “That’s fine.”

“I’m not as bad as I seem at the moment,” she insisted.

“It’s fine, like I said. This is just a stopgap until you find something more suited to your, uh, skills. We can work around…whatever.”

In other words, he’d put up with her until he could conscionably get rid of her.

“And what do you think would be better suited to me?” she asked.

He shrugged as if he didn’t care as long as she eventually secured alternate employment. “There’s always retail. Or…maybe you should take some online classes while you work here to gain skills in other areas. Medical transcription or…or web design. Something like that.”

She winced but hoped he couldn’t tell. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

If he heard her sarcasm, he didn’t respond to it. With a nod, he went to his own desk. “I’m going to get a few pages done. The cleaning supplies are above the washing machine. Maybe you can start with the house.”

She curled her nails into her palms. His tone said, Anybody ought to be able to do that. “What time would you like breakfast?”

He was opening his document. “I had a piece of toast with my coffee earlier.”

“So skip breakfast?”

“Right.”

“And lunch?”

“I’ll eat at one and five, just to give you a rough schedule. Lunch you can bring up and set on that desk.” He indicated the desk she’d been using. “I’ll get to it when I can. Dinner should be ready at five so you can eat with Alexa before you go home. I’ll have the leftovers when I finish up for the day.”

He wasn’t planning on seeing much of her, despite the fact that they’d both be in the house, she realized. Since she couldn’t type, she’d been relegated to the nether regions. “Got it.”

When she didn’t immediately leave, he turned to look at her. “Is there anything else?”

“I might not be quite as worthless as you think,” she said and walked out.

12

He was an idiot. He’d thought he could employ Sophia for a few months without finding it too much of a sacrifice, but that was a joke. She was in his house where he’d have to face her every time he left his office. And she was going to be there all day every day, except weekends.

Instead of writing, Ted spent the next hour cursing his own ridiculous response to recent events. So when his phone buzzed, it was a welcome distraction rather than an interruption. He couldn’t create a good story, not in his current frame of mind. He might as well answer.

But when caller ID showed it was his mother, he almost put down the phone. She’d told him not to get involved with Sophia, and he’d done exactly the opposite. Now he’d hear about it. But if he didn’t answer, she’d just keep trying until she got through. Why not break the news, if she hadn’t learned it yet, and get that over with?

He pushed the talk button. “Hello?”

“Tell me it’s not true,” she stated flatly.

She’d learned, all right. “Who told you?” he asked.

“I ran into Sharon DeBussi at the gas station. She said her granddaughter told her they were going to be okay because of you.”

“Everyone needs a hand now and then, Mom.” He pretended his actions were perfectly logical and defensible. But he’d lost a lot of confidence since Sophia had arrived. Hiring her had been a mistake. She couldn’t even type, which suddenly seemed more significant than it had when he was feeling sorry for her. He sincerely doubted a woman who’d been that rich could cook or clean, either. She’d stupidly settled for being nothing more than Skip’s arm candy. So what had he been thinking? It wasn’t his responsibility to save her from her own poor choices, but he’d jumped in despite that, and now he had to deal with the fallout.

“Why not let someone else give her a hand?” his mother asked.

“Because no one else stepped up!” At least that was true. He wouldn’t have offered her a job if he felt she’d had a better option—or even another option. “From what I could tell, our fellow Whiskey Creek residents just wanted to…pile on.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“She inspires a great deal of resentment. I get it. But enough is enough.” That was true, too, and stating it so emphatically seemed to bolster him, if only slightly.

“I knew she’d draw you back into her web.”

His mother’s tone got on his nerves. She could be so smug. “Stop it. I’m not in her web. I’m trying to do something kind for another human being.”

“The same human being who broke your heart when she chose that bum over you?”

“Thanks for the reminder. But have you forgotten how hard it was when Dad left us?” he asked. “And you had child support, an education and a good job. What does she have?”

“The uncanny ability to prey on your sympathies, apparently.”

His mother wasn’t softening at all. She didn’t forgive easily as a general rule. She was too demanding of herself and others. Expecting her to forgive someone who’d wronged him? Forget it. They could fight between themselves, butt heads all the time, but she’d die defending him. That was what made their relationship so damn complicated. It was difficult to tell someone that devoted to quit meddling when the line between “meddling” and “loving” so often blurred.

“She didn’t come to me for the job, Mom. I offered it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“Then you deserve exactly what you’re going to get!” A dial tone buzzed in his ear.

Ted couldn’t remember the last time his mother had hung up on him. She was really upset about this. But she had no right to be. He was an adult, for crying out loud. He could make his own decisions.

Slumping into his chair, he set the perpetual motion skier his editor had sent him for Christmas into action. He needed to get back to work. He couldn’t lose another day, not if he wanted to meet his deadline. But he was so distracted….