“Right, sir.”
Sir? That’s the second time he’s called me that. Maybe I was wrong about Finch.
As I’m about to return to my kitchen search, a knock sounds on the door. Without thinking, I step up and open it. “Daisy?”
“Oh, um…,” she starts nervously. “I, uh, saw you go into her apartment. I thought I’d see if you needed anything.”
I blink a few times, wondering if that’s all this woman does—watches out her door. “No. I think we’re good.”
“Oh. Right.” She titters nervously. “It’s just… I made some cookies.”
“Cookies?” says the guy I thought “wasn’t so bad” a minute ago. Poking his head out from the bedroom, Finch sees Daisy and smiles, and it pisses me off. “Did you say cookies?”
“I did.” Why is she smiling at Finch? “When you take a break, just knock on my door and I’ll have some ready for you.”
“Awesome.” Finch’s huge smile is ridiculous.
Shutting the door, I glare at him. “You act like you’ve never had food before.” The jackass.
“Homemade cookies?” He smiles again. “I haven’t had homemade cookies in months.”
Come to think of it, neither have I.
“Just keep working,” I grunt.
“Then we get cookies, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Then we get cookies.”
Chapter Nine
Daisy
I can’t believe I just said that. “I made cookies,” I say in a squeaky voice, making fun of myself. Ugh. I’m such an idiot. I could tell by Gage’s face that he wasn’t happy for the interruption. Hell, he looked downright angry about it.
“Stupid, stupid Daisy.”
Well, damn it, it couldn’t be helped. I heard voices in the hallway. Male voices. And I had to check it out—like I always do. When I saw him, I knew I had to do something. Not to mention I’d been meaning to make cookies. I’ve had all the ingredients for days, after all.
No. I’m not going to beat myself up about it. Mom always said, “A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” For a long time, I didn’t understand what she meant. I thought it meant if a man needed heart surgery, the doctor had to cut through the stomach first, but as I got older and read more, I realized it was merely a figure of speech. She didn’t mean it literally.
So that’s what I did, or at least what I’m trying to do. Or at least I tried to get to his heart with food. But, the two words I’d use to describe how that worked out?
Epic. Fail.
With a self-pitying sigh, I place the finished cookies in a plastic container and clean up my mess. I should have known he wasn’t interested in me that way. He’s just doing his job, and I happen to be a person who pays attention to what goes on around here. No doubt Officer Golden probably has a slew of women making him cookies.
“Ugh. So embarrassing.”
Why do I do things like that to myself?
My last crush was…. I have to stop to think. My last crush was in high school. Chad Esther. He was in my precalculus class and was a wiz at math. Me, not so much. I passed it by the skin of my teeth. I really wanted to ask him to tutor me. I knew he struggled in English composition a little, so we could have helped each other out, but I chickened out. No matter. I heard he was married now, to a man. So there’s that. I hope he’s happy. I really do. He was nice.
Now there’s Gage. I can’t very well ask him to tutor me. I snort aloud at my thought. “I made cookies,” I say again as I roll my eyes. “You are such a dork, Daisy.”
With my kitchen tidied up, I decide to work on Dad’s book for a while. I’m nearly finished, thank goodness. Once it’s completed and edited, I need to figure out a way to break the news to my father that I’m done. I won’t be writing any more papers or books for him. Instead, I’ll be focusing on my plan—my goals. He’s not going to like it, but too bad.
I’m able to concentrate on the writing for about an hour before turning back to Mom’s crap I was working on before making the cookies. I pull up my tall stool to continue. I’ve found the original Vogue magazine and several others published around the same time. Those I placed into a plastic container for safekeeping. The other, less important items, I’ve tossed into large black garbage bags. I’ve filled one and nearly have a second one ready to throw out when there’s a knock on my door.
I’m immediately excited because it has to be Gage. Hopping off my stool, I make my way to the door. “Just a second,” I say in a singsong kind of voice. But when I pull the door open, my smile disappears.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
I don’t wait for an answer, just turn on my heel and make my way into the apartment, leaving the door open for him.
He shuts it on his way inside. “Wow, nice greeting, Daisy Fay.”
I hate when he uses my first and middle name.
“What’re you up to? Been writing?” His voice is all cheery and fake because he’s hoping I’ve been working on his book.
“Some.”
I sit on the tall stool and continue looking at
