His Forever Girl

“Tell your mother to call me.”

“Oh, right. Bye, Daddy,” Emily said, still distracted, but Graham would take it. He loved every minute of hearing her breathless little girl voice. Something about her innocence buffered the guilt floating inside him...made his day not so crappy if only for a few minutes.

God, he wanted to do better by her.

And he would.

“Bye, pumpkin,” he said before pressing the end button. Tossing the phone on the counter, he sighed and wiped a hand over his face. He had to get his shit together. That’s what a good father did.

He had to be there physically for Emily, picking her up from after school care, spending weekends proving he wasn’t the same as his old man. He wouldn’t chase sparkly things or shirk his duty to his child. Emily was the reason Graham couldn’t bow out of Ullo.

It had been so long since he’d felt confident about who he was. He’d gotten a taste of it that night exactly a month ago when he’d met Tess. That night, he’d been the man he’d once been—the man who had not only dreamed but made things happen. The man who hadn’t failed with Monique, who had never been laid off, who had never paid a bill late, who had never taken medicine to pull himself out of depression. That magical night had given him a piece of himself back, cracking open the door to a new tomorrow.

But then he’d slammed it closed out of fear. Out of embarrassment of who he’d become. Yeah, it was a stupid reason to toss a chance for happiness with Tess away, but something inside him had balked about coming to her with so little to offer.

Panic had grabbed him by the throat. No matter how well he’d presented himself in his pressed suit and expensive shoes, buying drinks like he had a bankroll in his pocket, he’d known he’d been a facade of the man he’d once been.

All he could think about was his father with frayed cuffs and a shitty-ass excuse for why he couldn’t afford to pay school fees. He’d looked in his bathroom mirror and seen the man who’d failed so often, who’d cared so little he’d rather take his life than get a job beneath him and show his sons how real success worked. The fear of turning into that man ate at him and convinced him to wait to call Tess until he was in a better place.

“Shit,” he said to no one...because no one was there. Story of his life. “Ah, you’re pathetic. You effed up with Tess. Game over.”

His words echoed in the apartment and as he looked at the Chinese takeout box in his hand, he felt anger wash over him. So he lived in shitty circumstances now, and he’d blown any chance he had with a woman who had made him feel the way he hadn’t felt in years—whole.

But it was a new day. A new beginning. He had a job, a challenge and a daughter who needed him. No time for feeling sorry for himself.

He was Graham Naquin—over-educated, nearer to forty than thirty and possessing all his teeth.

He was in it to win it.

The world was his oyster.

He would kick ass and take names.

Because he refused to be the man who’d raised him. He might have been down, but he wasn’t out.

Graham Naquin was a fighter.

* * *

TESS SIPPED THE lukewarm cafе au lait and studied Gigi who glowered like a jail warden.

“Draw unemployment,” she said, her red eyebrows drawn together.

“No. I don’t want unemployment. I’m getting another job.” Tess stared at her computer, trying to figure how best to position the experience she had. It was damn hard writing a resume with a single company as your only employer.

“Where?” Gigi pushed her tight red curls off her face and sucked on the straw of her iced tea. Gigi hated coffee but loved Cuppa Joe’s with its bright red couches and black lacquered tables. Soft ’80s rock flowed through the speakers and modern art displayed at irregular angles decked the walls. It had a cool, comfy vibe, so they met here as regularly for Wi-Fi and coffee as they did at Two-Legged Pete’s for drinks with more kick.

“Not sure. I love design work and haven’t been able to do as much of it for the past few years because I’ve been working with clients. Maybe I’ll freelance.”

Gigi snapped her fingers. “Didn’t your father say this dude started a Mardi Gras float company way back when?”

“No, Graham told me the company he interviewed for was something he’d done before.... Wait, uh, maybe he did say he started a company, but I haven’t a clue which one. There are a lot of smaller ones.”

“Give me that,” Gigi said, tugging Tess’s laptop toward her. “Let’s see what we can find on him.”

Tess scooted her chair closer, wondering why she hadn’t already done that. She often used social media to scan the guys she dated, but Graham had said he wasn’t on Facebook.

Gigi typed away like a flame-tipped woodpecker on crack as Tess sipped her coffee and looked around at the world still turning even though hers had crashed that afternoon. How could people still laugh, still make jokes, still flirt across the room? Didn’t her sadness permeate their happy, shiny faces?

“Bingo!” Gigi crowed, sitting back with a smile. “You’re never going to believe this one.”

Tess tipped the computer so she could see the screen. “Holy crap. Upstart?”

“Yeah, that’s crazy, huh?”

Tess reeled with the news. Upstart, run by the effervescent Monique Dryden, had grown to become Frank Ullo’s staunchest competition...and Graham Naquin had been one of the founders?

Gigi started reading. “Monique Dryden started Upstart Floatmakers in 2003 with her partners Graham Naquin and Josh Laborde when the three post-grad students, on a whim, created a sci-fi float for the Krewe of Vader, a satirical sci-fi fantasy krewe started by Jimmie Ray Dietzel. The three friends’ collaboration led to a passionate venture—” Gigi wiggled her eyebrows “—which united a film student, an engineer and an art history graduate in like purpose. Building their floats using high-tech materials, cutting-edge light displays and fuel-efficient design has vaulted the ‘Little Engine That Could’ into the big leagues in float design.”

Gigi stopped reading out loud and skimmed the article, her lips moving as fast as her blue eyes. “Wow, he sold his interest in the company and moved to Houston to work for NASA.”

Tess looked away. She didn’t want to know any more. Something about Graham having a relationship with Monique Dryden made the coffee curdle in her stomach. She’d met Monique many times at fundraisers and the occasional Mardi Gras ball and had found the vivacious brunette to be smart and gorgeous. She’d always made Tess feel a giantess next to her dark, diminutive beauty.

“All this is pretty interesting...almost coincidental,” Gigi said. “You sure he didn’t know who you were? This smells funny.”

“He didn’t. I never gave him my last name, and obviously my father didn’t care to mention his daughter Tess frequents Two-Legged Pete’s and takes home random hot guys. Graham didn’t have any more of a clue than I did. I’m certain about that. Besides, how would it have benefited him? My dad didn’t tell me what was going on.”

Gigi stared out the window at the world moving by in the late afternoon light. “Know what you should do?”

“I’m scared to ask,” Tess joked, trying to forget she was devastated, trying to find what little humor she had left after cleaning out her desk and passing her key to Billie.

“You should talk to Monique Dryden about a job. Bet she would love to sink her teeth into you.” Gigi gave a sharky lawyer grin.

Tess made a face. “That would be...I don’t know...too weird. Plus, it’s doubtful she has an opening.”

“Don’t know until you ask, do you? And how awesome would that be? You’d totally teach your dad and Mr. Fancy Pants Naquin a lesson.”

“But it’s—” Tess rooted around for the right word “—treason. I’ll stick with trying freelance design or something. I can’t work at a rival company.”

“Why not? It’s a job. Your father screwed you, and Graham Naquin literally screwed you. Don’t play the victim. Turn the tables on them.”

Gigi didn’t understand family the way Tess did. Her best friend’s parents had split in a bitter, contested divorce rendering their only daughter a bone to be fought over. Finally after winning joint custody, Gigi’s father moved to California and pretty much forgot about the daughter “he loved beyond himself.” The whole messy affair had left Gigi cynical.

“I’m not you, Gigi. Ullo is part of my family and I can’t hurt my family.”

Gigi just stared at her for a good ten seconds. Censure, and maybe disappointment that Tess wasn’t jumping to get revenge on her father and Graham, clearly visible on her face.

Seriously, how could Tess work for the company that had given Frank Ullo the most competition over the past two years? Sounded too in-your-face for Tess’s taste.