The Doctor’s Secret Bride: Chapter 3

“You know what, Daddy?” Precious beamed from the opposite side of the dining table.

Erik smiled at the enthusiasm in his daughter’s eyes and voice. Since they sat down to eat, she’d been talking nonstop bringing him up to date on her exciting afternoon with her new nanny. “What, sweetheart?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin and placing it on his lap.

“Michelle pushed me so high in the swing, I almost saw Grandpa Erik and Grandma Danielle all the way in Granite Falls.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I didn’t know Michelle was so strong. I guess we got us a super nanny, huh?” He winked at Michelle.

“Yeah, we have a super nanny. She’s the bestest, funnest nanny ever.”

The joy in his daughter’s eyes filled Erik’s soul with gratitude. He smiled at Michelle, hoping she understood what she’d done for him, for them.

“I think you should wait a while before you go handing me a diploma,” she said.

“What’s a diploma?” Precious asked.

As Michelle explain what a diploma was, Erik looked around the elaborately decorated room with its Waterford chandeliers and gold cabinets filled with priceless ornaments Cassie had collected over the years.

It had been a while since he’d taken a meal in here. He and Precious usually ate at the kitchen table, something Cassie would never have approved. She was all about prestige and appearances, the very lifestyle he’d been trying to escape when he left Granite Falls. The table had always been laden with gourmet dishes on Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. They’d always had friends and family with whom to enjoy the elaborate meals. But since her death, he and Precious either went to his mother’s on the other side of town, or up to Granite Falls, his hometown, a three-hour drive north of Manchester.

The dining room had become a passageway from the kitchen to the family room. This afternoon, for some inexplicable reason, Erik had called Mrs. Hayes from the hospital and asked her to set the table for dinner. A faint smile ruffled his lips as he recalled that conversation.

“ The formal dining room, Sir?”

“Yes, the formal dining room, Mrs. Hayes, where people sit down around a table and share a meal together.”

“And how many people will be sharing a meal, Sir?”

“Three.”

“Are you bringing a guest for dinner?”

“Tell Ms. Carter I expect her to dine with Precious and me tonight.”

As he gazed at Michelle talking so naturally and easily with his daughter, Erik wondered about his choice. Was he trying to impress her? And why? They were sitting around a dinner table like some normal happy family. He at the head, Michelle at the foot, and Precious across from him—the way it used to be when Cassie was alive. It was a good feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this… well, content. He could say it’s because Michelle had made Precious laugh. But Michelle had made him laugh, too. Really laugh.

He’d been closed and guarded for the past two years, and when he’d let his guard down this afternoon, he’d rediscovered something he lost the night Cassie died—his vulnerability. The thought of opening up himself and letting someone in both scared and thrilled him.

As the conversation about diplomas wound down, Erik caught Michelle’s gaze. “Why aren’t you eating?” he asked. She’d been twirling the stew around in the bowl since they sat down. He was on his second helping of the delicious stew and Precious was almost finished her first. Michelle had eaten two slices of sourdough bread, and two servings of the garden salad, but she hadn’t taken one single bite of the stew. “Is it not to your liking?”

“I don’t eat red meat,” she said.

“Are you a vegetarian?”

“No, I just don’t eat beef.” She set the spoon down, seemingly relieved that she didn’t have to pretend anymore.

“Is there a specific reason you don’t eat beef?”

“Calvin.”

A cold chill ran up and down Erik’s spine. Was Calvin her boyfriend? He’d forgotten to ask her if she were currently involved with anyone. He’d asked for someone older to avoid a repeat of the nanny taking off when she decided to start her own family. He didn’t want his daughter disappointed again. He took a quick glance at her and recalled the excitement with which she’d shared the stories of her afternoon with Michelle. She was already in deep.

He’d been so distracted by the effect Michelle had on him, he’d forgotten to ask her the most important question of the day. He couldn’t very well ask her if she had a boyfriend in front of his daughter, so he asked, as placidly as he could, “Who’s Calvin?”

A slow smile broke across her lips as if she knew the real question plaguing him. “A bull calf. Like in cattle.”

Calvin was a bull. Erik let out his breath. “Where did you meet, uh—Calvin?”

“A few years ago, I stayed on a farm that my friend’s family owned. I got very attached to this one bull that I named Calvin. He had the most pitiful eyes, like he knew what would happen to him. I used to wish I had a house with a big back yard so I could adopt him. I promised him that as long as I lived, I would never eat beef again. For a long time after I left the farm, every time I smelled burgers or steaks cooking, I would think of him.”

“Yuck!” Precious dropped her spoon and spat a mouthful of stew back into her bowl.

“Precious, mind your manners,” Erik said.

“But we could have just eaten Calvin, Daddy.”

Michelle shook her head hastily. Her conviction was hers alone. She had no wish to convince Precious or anyone else to adopt her belief. “No baby,” she said smiling at the little girl. “Calvin was rescued by a nice man who took him far away to another farm where he fell in love with a beautiful cow named Izzy.”

“That’s sweet,” Precious said. “And they had lots and lots of baby cows and lived happily ever after, just like Cinderella and the Prince.”

“Just like Cinderella,” Michelle acquiesced, relieved at Precious’ naivety. She really had to watch what she said around the child. She was hired to babysit her, not indoctrinate her.

“How many babies did they have?” Precious asked, biting into a slice of bread.

“Well, I’d say…”

Feeling quite uncomfortable with talk about love, babies, and happily ever after, Erik tried to tune out the exchange between his daughter and Michelle. Love, babies, and forever was what he’d hoped for when he married Cassie.

If it hadn’t been for that drunk…

Well, he didn’t know that exactly. They never had the opportunity to resolve their last fight that night. He had no idea what he would have done if Cassie had confirmed his suspicions about her.

He couldn’t understand why people who claim to be in love lied, betrayed, and inflicted pain on each other. Love made you vulnerable. He’d been vulnerable to Cassie. He loved her more then he’d ever loved anyone, would ever love anyone again. Was that love strong enough to weather the storm of his suspicions, though? He would never know. All he knew was that he would never make himself that vulnerable to anyone, ever again.

Well, he was going to try not to, he reassured himself as his eyes rested on Michelle sitting where Cassie used to sit, her brown skin glowing under the richness of the russet cotton dress she’d changed into. Her obsidian eyes sparkled like black magic, daring him to reach out and taste the sweet essence of her soul. Erik tried to picture Cassie’s chestnut-brown eyes, but all he saw were those fiery, black eyes of an irresistible woman gazing back at him, inviting him to explore and revel.

Shaking off the bewitching invitation, Erik pushed back his chair and smiled at his daughter. “Hey, little one. Daddy has a surprise for you,” he said, deliberately interrupting their conversation about forever after. As far as he was concerned, fairytale endings were just that… fairytales that belonged in children’s books.

Precious jumped out of her chair and ran to him. “A surprise for me? What is it, Daddy?”

Erik closed his eyes as he hugged his little girl. God, he loved her so much. She was all he had left of Cassie, and he cherished her with everything good in himself. He pried Precious’ arms from around his neck and peered into her eyes—Cassie’s eyes. He planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “Go wash up and meet me back here,” he said, placing her on the floor.

She raced out of the room without so much as a backward glance, her long ponytails bouncing behind her like thick cords of rope.

Erik turned his attention to Michelle who’d left her chair and was now gazing out the bay window overlooking a rose garden. Habitually, his eyes swept the length of her. She had a good posture, he thought, and would carry a fetus well, but her narrow pelvis would make childbirth difficult, the astute physician in him noted with concern.

Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, Erik could not stop thinking about Michelle’s body, and how it would look naked, especially her full perky breasts and the shape and color of her nipples. He wondered about the haven of delight between her thighs. What were her waxing preferences? American, French, or Brazilian? He knew what he liked. Would Michelle deliver or disappoint him? As his eyes took in the gentle curve of her long graceful neck, he wondered how her silky skin would feel against his lips. He could easily kiss her nape without having to trek through a thick mass of hair as he used to do with Cassie. Cassie.

At the thought of his wife, Erik took a deep breath and forced the pleasing yet dangerous musings about his daughter’s nanny out of his head. He took a moment to collect his thoughts then walked to the window to stand beside Michelle.

“They are beautiful,” he said, gazing at the array of red, yellow, white, and pink roses, all in full bloom. Cassie had put her sweat into that garden and after she died, he’d employed a gardener to tend the thorny bushes. They added a magnificent view from the dining table. He remembered the numerous compliments the spectacular scenery had generated from their guests over the years.

“You don’t look like the rosebush kind.”

Michelle’s voice interrupted his stroll down memory lane. She somehow had the uncanny ability to continually bring him back from his past. He chuckled softly. “They were Cassie’s, my late wife’s. She loved roses, especially the red ones, like her flaming hair. Red was her favorite color. You might have noticed that from the painting in my study.”

“How did she die? Was she sick?”

Erik tensed with dread and perplexity. Did she really not know? The news of Cassie’s death and the ongoing investigation to find her killer had made the headlines for months. He’d never met anyone who didn’t associate the name LaCrosse with that tragedy. Well, not until now.

He didn’t want to talk about it, but since Michelle was now an uninformed member of his household, the question would always be hanging over their heads. “She was killed by a drunk driver,” he said, wishing to put it to rest.

“I hope they caught the bastard.”

“Unfortunately, not yet.” Erik frowned at her use of the word ‘bastard’ and the disdain with which she said it.

“How could they not have found him yet?” she asked as if she had a personal stake in his loss. “Drunks aren’t that hard to find.” She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.

Feeling the tension building around them, Erik ran his fingers through his hair. He seldom talked about that night. And he definitely never spoke about it with a stranger. But something about Michelle Carter made him want to open up his heart to her, tell her the whole truth. Maybe it’s because of the way she’d handled Precious earlier today. She seemed to have a gift to make people who were hurting feel better.

“It was a stolen car that was later abandoned. We knew it was a drunk because it was littered with empty liquor bottles. Cassie’s blood, and fabric from her dress was wedged into the front bumper.” He balled his fists at his sides. “He walked away without even a scratch while my wife bled to death in front of me.”

“You were there? You saw it happen?”

How much should he tell this woman who was gently coaxing the most horrifying, most painful experience of his life out of him? Erik wondered.

“We’d gone to a birthday party at a friend’s house in Manchester.” He spoke slowly and cautiously. “On the way home, we got into an argument. It was late and Cassie begged me to wait until the morning and she would explain everything to me. She was like that, you know. She hated confrontations. If a fight began brewing between us, she would walk away to cool off and when she returned, we would resolve our difference more calmly.”

He closed his eyes for an instant. “But that night, I wasn’t having it. I wanted answers right then and there. So she insisted that I stop the car. We were passing a park, so I pulled over, thinking it would be a safe place for her to cool off for a few minutes. But just as she opened the door and stepped out, a car came whipping by.”

“Didn’t you see it coming?”

“It was dark. The driver didn’t have his lights on. It happened so fast.” Erik pressed his hands against his temples. His head was throbbing. At least, she was sensitive enough not to ask what they’d been arguing about. The only other person who knew about that argument was his ex-best friend, Clayton Monroe. Nobody else. Not even his mother. As hurt and angry as he’d been at the time, he didn’t want people speculating about his wife and what she may or may not have done. Most importantly, he didn’t want anything to tarnish his daughter’s image of her mother.

The authorities had questioned his action in stopping on the wrong side of the road and allowing his wife to exit into the street instead of the sidewalk. He’d been under suspicion for allegedly pushing his wife out of the car into oncoming traffic. But having no evidence that he wanted his wife dead, he’d been cleared.

He was an idiot, not a monster.

“I’ve never told anyone about that argument,” he said, wondering if he’d made a mistake in telling Michelle so much. He didn’t even know her, and yet he’d poured out the darkest secret of his soul to her.

Michelle gazed up at him with moist eyes filled with warmth, the kind of homespun warmth he longed to have wrapped around him.

“I won’t repeat it to anyone,” she said. “I’m sorry, Erik. I’m sorry you and your little girl had to go through such a terrible experience.”

The sincerity in her voice seeped through his skin, into his blood. “You’re remarkable,” he said huskily. “Almost too good to be true.”

His heart jolted when she unexpectedly took his hand and laced her fingers through his. Her touch was like quicksand, pulling him into a chasm of pure desire. He felt an avid quickening of his heartbeat as a violent passion pulsed through his veins, bringing his dormant body to life.

The moment she touched him, a hot flash swept through Michelle, and her heart began to hammer against her chest. It was as if she’d been struck by lightning. Instantly realizing it was a mistake to touch him, she dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She cast her eyes downward to hide the boisterous storm raging inside her.

“Don’t be. You acted on impulse.” Erik put his hands under her chin and raised her face to his. He wiped his thumb across the softness of her cheek, capturing a tear that had escaped from her captivating eyes. He rubbed the warm moisture between his fingers, relishing the feel of it against his skin.

Her lips parted slightly, and involuntarily, her pink tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. Erik groaned. Her compelling eyes spoke to him, offering him the intimate female delights he’d been deprived of for so long. His head started a lazy descent, and as he got closer, his predatory male senses were stimulated by the sensual fragrance exuding from her skin.

“What’s that scent you’re wearing?” he whispered.

“Moonlight. You like it?”

“Yes. I like it. I like it a lot.”

Michelle closed her eyes as her heart jackknifed in her throat. She whimpered when his smooth, warm lips touched hers, and the heady scent of his masculinity attacked her. There was no spicy aftershave, no musky cologne, just his potent manliness. Her limbs turned to jelly when he pulled her to him and completely covered her mouth and swept his tongue inside, ravishing her hungrily. She clutched his shoulders and opened wider, giving him absolute permission to enjoy her.

Sweat beaded Erik’s forehead as his body heat reached a record high. His breath came in gasps as he stroked his hands down her narrow body. He pulled her closer, fitting his erection against the soft cradle of her feminine heat. He rocked against her gently as their tongues danced intimately around each other.

Michelle made a mewling sound, deep in her throat, like that from a cat being stroked by its master’s hand. She wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck and pressed herself into the hard curve of his body. She’d had boyfriends before, yet she had no idea that being in a man’s arms could feel so gloriously wonderful. Somewhere in the dazed recess of her brain, she heard thunder rumble.

“I’m ready, Daddy!”

They jumped apart as Precious’ voice yanked them back to reality.

Michelle gasped and swallowed hard, forcing her heart back inside her chest. The rumbling she’d heard wasn’t thunder, but Precious’ footsteps clambering down the stairs. She turned toward the window and managed to straighten her dress just as Precious bolted into the room. She wondered how Erik was doing. She couldn’t even look at him.

“You look beautiful, Precious,” Erik said to his daughter, desperately needing any sound to break the steamy silence in the room. His voice shook so hard, he was afraid she would realize that something was wrong. She was too intuitive for her own good, and his. He dropped to the floor on one knee, placing his arms across his thighs in an effort to hide his arousal.

Precious had changed into a floral printed dress, but the two strips of cotton that would later become a bow in the back, hung down at her sides. She wore pink suede sandals, no socks.

“Daddy, your eyes are all red. Is something wrong? Were you crying?”

“No darling. Daddy’s just excited about our date tonight.”

Satisfied, she ran over to the window. “Can you please tie my bow, Michelle?”

Michelle took a deep breath before turning around. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the long braids aside and tried to make a perfect bow from the two strips of cotton. “There,” she said, spinning Precious around. “Your daddy is right. You’re as beautiful as a princess.”

She gave her a bright smile. “Are you coming with us?”

“No. Not tonight. This is a father and daughter night out. I’ll come next time. Okay?”

“Okay. Come on, Daddy, let’s go.”

Somewhat recovered, Erik stood up. “Go wait for me in the Mercedes.”

“Bye, Michelle,” Precious called as she ran out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison, then looked away from each other.

“Look,” Erik said, “I was wrong to come on to you like that. I wouldn’t blame you if you walked out the door right now. I hope you don’t think I expect you to… well, I promise, it will not happen again.”

“It was nothing.” Michelle’s lips trembled as she brought her gaze back to his. The passion still burned affluently within his eyes, as she was sure it did in hers.

“On the contrary, it was something.” He watched her for a long, hard minute then said in a composed voice, “I should be home around ten. I’m taking Precious to see a production of The Wind in the Willows. I’ve had these tickets for a week, but lately, every time I suggested we do something together, she turned me down. Thanks to you, that has changed.” He paused. “You sure you don’t want to come along? I could get another ticket at the door.”

“No,” Michelle replied, thinking about what Precious had told her that afternoon about the day her mother died. She needed her father’s undivided attention more than anything else right now.

“I have to clean up since Mrs. Hayes has left for the day. I also have to finish unpacking and make some phone calls. I need to let my brother know where I am before he puts out an Amber alert on me.”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Hayes mentioned you have a brother who’s an orthodontist.”

Michelle nodded, pride welling up inside her. Her big brother had made it. “We’re really close.”

“As family should be.”

“Well, goodbye. Have a nice time.” Michelle needed him gone so she could kick herself in the ass.

He lingered, looking around warily. “Are you going to be okay in this big house alone on your first night?”

What, was he afraid she was going to call her hoodlum friends to clean the place out the minute his car disappeared around the corner? Michelle smiled at the wicked thought. “I’ll be fine, Erik.”

“Okay, bye.” He finally left.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Michelle slapped her palms against the sides of her head. How could she let this happen? She was hired to take care of the child, not seduce the father.

Her impulsive behavior could cause complications for all of them, she realized as she began collecting the leftovers from the sideboard. She took the serving dishes to the kitchen that was as elaborately decorated as the rest of the house.

The alabaster marble island in the center of the kitchen was trimmed in red oak to match the cabinets with decorated glass doors and gold handles. His wife had definitely had good taste, which brought her back to her dilemma.

By now Erik was probably back to his initial impression of her—a cheap tramp from the wrong side of the river. If he did, she couldn’t blame him. She had offered herself to him, and he was only a man—one with huge needs. Her skin tingled at the memory of his strong arms pulling her into him, his hot tongue ravishing her mouth, and the enormous bulge in his pants pressing into her heat.

Whew. She fanned her face with her hand and stood a little longer in front of the fridge before heading back into the dining room.

She was a half-day on the job and she was already giving her boss permission to do with her whatever he wanted. From now on, she had to be strong. Tough. His kind could hurt her. Real bad. She wasn’t the kind of woman men like Dr. Erik LaCrosse considered as permanent additions to their lives. He went for the classy type. The couth. He would play with her like a little boy with a new toy on Christmas morning then he would toss her aside when he got bored.

Not that she was looking to settle down with anybody any time soon. She had to put her life back together. She had to write her book and build a new youth center for the kids in Manchester. Then if she was real lucky, she’d find the right man—one in her own league—settle down, have a few kids of her own, and live happily ever after like Cinderella and Prince Charming.

Michelle chortled. She should know better than to make plans and build castles in the sky. The plans she’d made so far had been foiled so badly she was now living in the house of the rich and famous and clearing their dinner table like a maid. Maybe she shouldn’t even make plans. Maybe she should just take one day at a time and hope Fate eventually threw her a lifeline.

Michelle carried the last pile of fine china to the kitchen and was in the process of stacking the dishwasher when the phone rang. She glanced at the cordless extension on the counter, hoping it wasn’t anyone looking for the doctor. He hadn’t told her where he was going, just that he was taking his daughter to see a play. Worse, what if it was his couth lady friend? Nah, she was sure he would have told his woman where he was. She could be with him right now for all Michelle knew.

Or… it could be Erik, calling to see if she was still here, or if she’d called her friends to help her clean the place out and left. She smiled at the wicked thought. Maybe she should just let the answering machine pick it up. She was sure he had one somewhere in the house.

When the phone just kept ringing, she snatched up the extension. “Hello. The LaCrosse’s residence.”

“Hey, Mich.”

Michelle let out a long sigh of relief at the sound of Yasmine’s voice. She’d called her best friend earlier and left the house number since her cell phone didn’t work in this area. Too many trees around. God, she was going to miss the buzz of Manchester.

“So did you get the job?” Yasmine asked.

“I got the job.”

“Excellent!”

“Why, you happy to have your apartment back to yourself?”

“Come on, Mich. You know it’s not about that. I’m glad you’re getting your break.”

Michelle chuckled. “I know. Hey,” she added as she perched on a bar stool at the breakfast nook. “Speaking of breaks, you’d never guess who the housekeeper is.”

“Okay, so tell me.”

“Mrs. Hayes. You remember I told you I ran into her at Mama Lola’s about a month ago?”

“Yeah. Did she get you the job?”

“She wouldn’t admit it, but I’m sure she had something to do with it. She must have some clout with the owners at Ready Nanny Agency and asked them to cancel the other candidate and send me on the interview instead.” Michelle didn’t see the sense in telling Yasmine of the lie Erik had told Mrs. Hayes to tell her. “Anyway, she said I’m here because God wants me here.”

“Well, maybe she’s right. I’m glad you have somebody looking out for you over there.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So how is the kid? Not a rich spoiled brat, I hope,” Yasmine said.

“She’s sweet. I like her. I think we’ll get along fine.” She’d give Yasmine the facts about her and Precious’ first meeting later.

“And her parents? What are they like?”

Michelle’s lips ruffled into a smile. If Yasmine could see it, she’d probably slap the giddy out of her. “Well, her father is nice.”

“Mich, you holding out on me.”

Her smile deepened into a grin. Yasmine knew her too well. “Okay. He’s handsome, sexy, and he’s a brother.”

“Really?”

“Well—half of him is. And he kissed me,” Michelle added as her pulse raced with the sweet memories of being in Erik’s arms.

A short silence rang on the other end then Yasmine shouted, “What kind of man kisses his child’s nanny, especially on her first day at work? Mich, you need to get out of that house, fast. Just give me the address, and I’ll come pick you up, right now.”

“It’s not like that, Yas,” Michelle corrected her friend who had been looking out for her since they were in kindergarten. Yasmine had even offered to have her brothers beat the stupid out of her father for wrecking her life.

Michelle hadn’t even told Robert what he’d done. It was for her brother’s own good, because she knew he would find him and do something bad to him. She didn’t want her brother spending the rest of his life in jail over their rotten good-for-nothing father.

Robert still thought she’d lost everything because she’d lost her job, and had been living beyond her means, which was partly true. But she’d been denied so much for so long, Michelle hadn’t seen the harm in spoiling herself a little. In addition, she’d been buying clothes and other necessities for some of the kids at the center who had nothing. She wanted to bring some happiness to their lives, see them smile.

“And where was his wife while he was kissing you?” Yasmine continued. “Don’t tell me they’re a swinging couple who hire innocent girls to fulfill their sexual fantasies.”

“Yasmine, his wife is dead. He’s been a widower for two years.”

“Oh, okay. Was she sick or something?”

“No. She was killed by a drunk driver,” Michelle said quietly.

“Oh man, Mich. That’s too close to home.”

“You’re telling me. The worse thing is they haven’t found him, yet. As far as Dr. Erik LaCrosse is concerned, every drunk out there is a potential suspect, including my father.”

“Did you tell him about your father?” Yasmine asked.

Michelle sighed and picked up a crystal saltshaker from the breakfast bar and twirled it between her fingers. “What am I supposed to say? By the way, Dr. LaCrosse, my father is a drunk. It’s possible he’s the one who killed your wife.” He’d already formed an opinion about her the moment she stepped out of the cab. She’d had to prove herself fit to take care of his kid, and that still didn’t mean he trusted her completely. He didn’t know anything about her.

“I see what you mean,” Yasmine said. “But what are you going to tell him when he does ask about your family? He will want to know. I’m surprised he hasn’t already asked.”

“I don’t know what I’ll tell him, Yas.” Michelle set the saltshaker back on the counter.

“You know, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. That man may not be your real father. Neither you nor Robert looks like him.”

“Yas, give it up. Lots of kids don’t look like their fathers or mothers for that matter. You don’t look like your dad. And don’t you think our mother would have said something to Robert if that were the case?”

“Maybe she wanted to, but couldn’t. Maybe he threatened her. You know that temper of his.”

“So if Dwight is not our father, where is our real father?” Michelle asked. “Why hasn’t he been looking for us all these years?”

“I don’t know, Mich. Maybe you should go find out.”

“Yeah, right. You watch too much TV.”

“It’s not TV. It’s the weird cases I come across since I’ve been studying criminal law. You wouldn’t believe the things some people would do for no reason whatsoever. There are thousands of unsolved cases out there.”

“Well, I’m sure there are a lot, but mine isn’t one of them. Bye, Yas.”

After she hung up, Michelle pondered over Yasmine’s question about what she would tell Erik when he asked about her father. One thing she knew was that she could not tell him her father was a drunk, had been since she could remember. Erik would begin to second-guess her character, her ethics, because that’s what people do when they learn you were raised in an unhealthy home environment. If Erik began to question her upbringing, he might be inclined to fire her.

As she slid off the stool and headed up a flight of stairs that led from the kitchen to the second floor, Michelle knew one thing: she would not let Dwight Carter take this job away from her. He had taken enough already.

As to the other matter about Dwight not being her real father, well that was just preposterous.