“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s watching TV. He’s tired, poor dear.”
She considered for one moment letting the conversation die there, then she ruined it and asked the question burning on her lips. “Did he help you clean up?”
“Oh, Frannie.”
Frankie pulled the phone away from her ear, knowing she wasn’t going to like anything her mother said that followed that cursed nickname. Her father, a complete and utter asshole, got his jollies out of controlling every aspect of her mother’s life. He told her what to wear, who she could hang out with, what to make for dinner every night. And her mother followed every command. To the letter.
Frankie was surprised she’d made it to eighteen with any of her tongue left. God knew she’d spent every year since birth biting it in an attempt to stop from telling her father what she thought of him.
“Listen Mom. I can’t talk long. I have a big presentation in the morning.”
“Oh, okay.”
Frankie tried to block out the hurt in her mother’s voice. It was a sound she managed to provoke from the woman too often.
“I was hoping to hear about your new job. How’s it going?” her mother asked.
“It’s fine. Great. I’m actually sitting here right now in my huge, new office.”
Her mother sighed loudly. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re still at the office? I wish you wouldn’t work so much. You’re not getting any younger, you know. Don’t you think it’s time you found yourself a nice young man, settled down and had some babies? Your father would like that.”
Frankie fought to block out her mother’s words. The conversation was far too familiar. Unlike most normal fathers, her dear old dad didn’t harbor any pride for her accomplishments, insisting instead that she was wasting her life. In her dad’s mind, women weren’t supposed to aspire to jobs that belonged to men. He told her once she’d wasted her college education majoring in business. Women were suited for three jobs, according to Mr. Carlyle—teacher, nurse or housewife.
Her patience in tatters, she realized why she’d been avoiding her mother’s calls. “Have to go, Mom. Bye. Love you.”
She hung up before her mother could reply and as always, she felt remorse for being so short with her.
She stood up and stretched, suddenly feeling like a caged cat. She refused to let her mother’s comments get to her. She’d long ago given up the hope that her parents would ever understand her, ever be proud of her.
Turning, she glanced out the window, looked down at the cityscape below. For the first time in a long time, she was beginning to feel a sense of belonging. She looked toward Reed’s office and wondered if her fresh new outlook on life had something to do with him.
Ordinarily, she would have put a wide berth between her and Reed Donovan simply because she wasn’t looking for anyone who reminded her of her father. It had been a major miscalculation on her part. She’d forgotten that sex and relationships didn’t have to go hand in hand. While she’d sworn off the marriage institution, eschewing a committed relationship in favor of her career, that didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in a few naughty liaisons every now and again.
She was thirty years old and she’d achieved a major goal on the career front landing this job. Finally she had the time to explore her personal pleasures as well.
She shut down her computer, grabbed her purse and started to head out. Frankie noticed the light under Reed’s door when she turned off the lights in her own office. She didn’t know why she was surprised. She was getting used to closing the joint down with him.
It had been nearly two weeks since Reed had cashed in on his winnings from their wager. Mercifully, he’d been as happy to return to the status quo in regards to their unusual relationship as she was. There were too many things about the man that played with her mind, her libido, her sense of self. She’d never let a man fuck with
“He’s watching TV. He’s tired, poor dear.”
She considered for one moment letting the conversation die there, then she ruined it and asked the question burning on her lips. “Did he help you clean up?”
“Oh, Frannie.”
Frankie pulled the phone away from her ear, knowing she wasn’t going to like anything her mother said that followed that cursed nickname. Her father, a complete and utter asshole, got his jollies out of controlling every aspect of her mother’s life. He told her what to wear, who she could hang out with, what to make for dinner every night. And her mother followed every command. To the letter.
Frankie was surprised she’d made it to eighteen with any of her tongue left. God knew she’d spent every year since birth biting it in an attempt to stop from telling her father what she thought of him.
“Listen Mom. I can’t talk long. I have a big presentation in the morning.”
“Oh, okay.”
Frankie tried to block out the hurt in her mother’s voice. It was a sound she managed to provoke from the woman too often.
“I was hoping to hear about your new job. How’s it going?” her mother asked.
“It’s fine. Great. I’m actually sitting here right now in my huge, new office.”
Her mother sighed loudly. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re still at the office? I wish you wouldn’t work so much. You’re not getting any younger, you know. Don’t you think it’s time you found yourself a nice young man, settled down and had some babies? Your father would like that.”
Frankie fought to block out her mother’s words. The conversation was far too familiar. Unlike most normal fathers, her dear old dad didn’t harbor any pride for her accomplishments, insisting instead that she was wasting her life. In her dad’s mind, women weren’t supposed to aspire to jobs that belonged to men. He told her once she’d wasted her college education majoring in business. Women were suited for three jobs, according to Mr. Carlyle—teacher, nurse or housewife.
Her patience in tatters, she realized why she’d been avoiding her mother’s calls. “Have to go, Mom. Bye. Love you.”
She hung up before her mother could reply and as always, she felt remorse for being so short with her.
She stood up and stretched, suddenly feeling like a caged cat. She refused to let her mother’s comments get to her. She’d long ago given up the hope that her parents would ever understand her, ever be proud of her.
Turning, she glanced out the window, looked down at the cityscape below. For the first time in a long time, she was beginning to feel a sense of belonging. She looked toward Reed’s office and wondered if her fresh new outlook on life had something to do with him.
Ordinarily, she would have put a wide berth between her and Reed Donovan simply because she wasn’t looking for anyone who reminded her of her father. It had been a major miscalculation on her part. She’d forgotten that sex and relationships didn’t have to go hand in hand. While she’d sworn off the marriage institution, eschewing a committed relationship in favor of her career, that didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in a few naughty liaisons every now and again.
She was thirty years old and she’d achieved a major goal on the career front landing this job. Finally she had the time to explore her personal pleasures as well.
She shut down her computer, grabbed her purse and started to head out. Frankie noticed the light under Reed’s door when she turned off the lights in her own office. She didn’t know why she was surprised. She was getting used to closing the joint down with him.
It had been nearly two weeks since Reed had cashed in on his winnings from their wager. Mercifully, he’d been as happy to return to the status quo in regards to their unusual relationship as she was. There were too many things about the man that played with her mind, her libido, her sense of self. She’d never let a man fuck with
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