Seduced by the CEO. Pamela Yaye
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Seduced by the CEO - Pamela Yaye страница 8
“Mom, can Dad come over for dinner?”
Absolutely not! Jariah thought, opening the fridge and taking out the Tupperware container filled with last night’s leftovers. The less time she spent with her ex the better, so inviting Wesley over to break bread after another stressful day of job interviews was definitely out of the question. “Not tonight, baby.”
“But I haven’t seen Daddy since my birthday party.”
Hearing the anguish in her daughter’s voice made her heart ache, but Jariah couldn’t tell Ava the real reason her father wasn’t coming around anymore. He was still trying to get back at her for breaking up with him, but the only person he was hurting was their daughter. “Your dad is busy at work, but he’s always thinking about you, Ava, even when you’re apart.”
Ava sat at the kitchen table, playing with her stuffed animals, and when she poked out her bottom lip she looked just like her father. “I miss Daddy so much,” she said. “He buys me ice cream and games and always tells me funny stories...”
Like most children, Ava adored her father and could go on for hours about how wonderful he was. Jariah wasn’t in the mood to talk about Wesley, but she let her baby girl talk, and resisted the urge to change the subject. Her ex was a decent father who spoiled their daughter silly, but he was a terrible boyfriend and a selfish lover. Considering how inept he was in the bedroom, it’s a miracle we ever got pregnant.
Jariah’s gaze drifted to the window above the sink. Birds chirped in the trees, girls played jump rope in the streets and the neighborhood watchdog, Mr. Regula, stood in his driveway, buffing his Cadillac to a shine. Aventura was a safe, caring community, filled with hardworking people, and Jariah enjoyed living in such a diverse, multi-cultural neighborhood.
“Mom, can we go to Chuck E. Cheese’s tomorrow?” Ava asked, glancing up from her toys.
Jariah popped the leftovers in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes. “You have day camp tomorrow, remember?”
“I hate summer camp. It’s boring and the kids are mean.”
“Still not getting along with the other girls, huh?”
Her lips twisted into a scowl. “Laquinta called me a boo-boo head and pulled my braids.”
“La who?”
When Ava giggled, her pigtails tumbled around her pretty, plump face.
“It doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re beautiful.”
“Just like you, right, Mama?”
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.” Jariah walked over to the table, cupped her daughter’s chin and kissed the tip of her nose. “Put your toys away. It’s time for dinner.”
“Are we having pizza? I hope so. I just love cheese pizza.”
“I’ll make you pizza this weekend, but tonight we’re having veggie casserole.”
“Again? But we had that yesterday.”
Overlooking her daughter’s disappointment, Jariah opened the stove and heaved the casserole dish onto the counter.
“When I’m at Dad’s house he lets me eat whatever I want,” Ava announced. Marching over to the pantry, she tugged open the door and rummaged around inside. “I don’t want leftovers. I want Froot Loops and chocolate chip cookies.”
“Ava, cut it out. You’re going to eat what I made for dinner and that’s final.”
“Why?” she demanded, her voice a shrill shout. “Why can’t I eat what I want?”
“Because eating junk food will give you a tummy ache, and I don’t want you to get sick.”
“You always say no. You never give me what I want.”
Feeling her temperature rise, Jariah cautioned herself to remain calm. Instead of scolding Ava for acting like a spoiled brat, she picked up the stuffed animals scattered on the table, and handed them to her daughter. “These need to go back to your room.”
“I hate it here,” Ava shouted. “I wish I lived with Daddy!”
Of course you do, Jariah thought sourly. Your dad gives you whatever you want, and there are no rules at his house. It’s one big party over there! Releasing a deep sigh, she fought back the tears of frustration that threatened to break free. Ava’s words hurt, made her question whether or not she was a good mother. Before self-pity could set in, Jariah shook off her thoughts and regarded her strong-willed daughter. “You can sit down at the table and eat dinner with me, or you can go to your room. It’s your choice.”
Ava stood there for a minute, her big, brown eyes narrowed as if weighing her options. Without a word, she took the toys out of Jariah’s hands and moped down the hallway toward the stairwell. Her head was down, her shoulders were bent, and she moved like someone racked with grief.
Sadness flooded Jariah’s heart. She felt a tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe. It hurt to see her daughter like this, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault Ava hadn’t seen her dad in a month, was it? These days, Wesley’s visits were short and sporadic and more often than not he didn’t show up at all. Should I take him back? Should I move in with him for Ava’s sake? Is that the answer to all of my problems?
Chasing away the thought, Jariah returned to the stove and resumed preparing dinner. Taking Wesley back would be a mistake. He didn’t love her—not the way she needed to be loved—and more importantly she didn’t love him. Years ago, when they’d started dating at Miami University she’d naively thought Wesley was “the one.” But after discovering she was pregnant, she’d seen a different side of him—a weak, spineless side that chose his parents repeatedly over her. And after years of playing second fiddle to his family, Jariah realized Wesley was never going to change, and broke things off for good. Contrary to what he thought, she deserved more, and didn’t need him or anyone else to take care of her.
Hearing her cell phone ring, Jariah searched the kitchen for her BlackBerry. Spotting it on the breakfast bar, she scooped it up and read the number on the display. Luckily, it wasn’t Wesley or his obnoxious mother. Jariah didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but as she put her cell phone to her ear, she hoped and prayed it was someone calling to offer her a job. “Hello, Jariah Brooks speaking.”
“Good evening, Jariah. This is Nicco Morretti. How are you?”
The sound of his deep, smooth voice tickled the tips of her ears.
“I’m great, thanks.” Jariah knew why Nicco Morretti was calling, and for the first time since losing her job last month, she smiled from ear to ear. Excitement surged through her veins, hard and fast. Jariah wanted to dance around the kitchen, but she maintained her composure.
“I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
“No, not at all,” she rushed to say. “I’m not doing anything. Now’s a great time to talk.”
“I’d