Daddy Lessons

Grimacing, he picked up several pieces of correspondence. “Everyone is a child once in their life.”

She was beginning to wonder if Joe McCann had ever been eight years old with freckles on his nose and a gap between his front teeth. “It’s unfortunate some of us forget what that’s like,” she couldn’t help replying.

With a warning glint in his blue eyes he thrust the papers at her. “Here’s a few letters you can begin working on. I’ve attached notes to the things that need immediate replies. You might attend to those now.”

Relieved to be out from under his scrutiny, Savanna carried the letters over to the empty desk. Before she had time to put her things away, the telephone rang. It was Megan again, who seemed very surprised when Savanna informed her that her father was allowing her to walk with her friend to the library.

“He really said I could go?”

Megan screeched the question with disbelief and Savanna could only wonder if Joe McCann was actually that strict with his daughter or if Megan was simply displaying typical teenage exaggeration. She hoped it was the latter, but from what little she’d seen of her boss this morning, she thought he probably ruled his daughter the way he ran his office. With a stern hand.

“Yes. As long as you’re back in an hour and a half. I’ll be calling then to make sure you’re home.”

“Wow, I can’t wait to meet you, Savanna! Edie would never have talked Daddy into letting me go!”

Savanna glanced over at Joe, who’d now taken a seat at his desk. His attention seemed to be focused on a long piece of green graph paper with a bunch of squiggly lines that looked something like an electrocardiogram. However, Savanna got the feeling that he was actually listening to her instead of studying what she figured was a seismograph report.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Savanna said carefully. “It really wasn’t that hard.”

Megan giggled then and Savanna tried to picture the child in her mind. She sounded impish and sweet and full of life. Nothing like her father, she thought as she glanced once again at Joe McCann’s bent head.

“You don’t know him yet! But you will after today.”

“Serious, huh?”

Megan groaned. “Look up the word in the dictionary, Savanna, and you’ll find Daddy’s picture beside it.”

Savanna could hardly keep from laughing at the teenager’s old joke, but she managed to clamp her lips together just as Joe looked up at her. “Uh, I’ve got to go to work, Megan.”

“He’s giving you one of those looks, isn’t he?”

Savanna breathed deeply. Joe was giving her some sort of look. Whether it was the kind Megan meant, she didn’t know. She only knew it was sending a peculiar sensation up and down her spine.

“Sorta,” Savanna told her.

“Okay. Talk to you later. ’Bye!”

Savanna hung up the phone, then began searching for an empty drawer to store her purse.

“I take it that was my daughter on the phone?”

Savanna glanced over at him. “It was. She was very pleased that you’re allowing her to go.”

Leaning back in his chair, he regarded his new secretary with a speculative look. “The two of you seemed awfully chatty.”

Savanna’s brown eyes glided over his face. Was that surprise she heard in his voice, or disbelief? And why did it matter to her what he was thinking, anyway?

“I wouldn’t call it chatty. Just getting acquainted.”

His features suddenly growing thoughtful, Joe tapped a pen against the graph spread in front of him. “That’s strange. Megan wasn’t interested in getting to know Edie. In fact, they didn’t get on together at all.”

“Well, I’m sure you know how it is sometimes. Some people just rub each other the wrong way.”

Without even knowing it, his eyes left her face to travel slowly down her body. “And how do I rub you, Ms. Starr?”

Stunned by his question, Savanna unconsciously took a step toward him. “I beg your pardon?”

What in the hell had come over him? Joe wondered wildly. He didn’t talk to women that way! In fact, he didn’t talk to women at all, unless it was necessary.

Clearing his throat he said, “I—that didn’t come out right. What I mean is—do you think we’ll be able to get along? To work together?”

From the sound of his voice, Savanna could have sworn their working together had been the last thing on his mind. But she could be wrong. After all, it would be crazy to think Joe McCann was thinking of her in that sort of way. The man didn’t even appear to like her very much.

Releasing a pent-up breath, she said, “I’m a flexible person, Mr. McCann. I’m sure we can get along without too much friction between us.”

“That’s good,” he told her with a short nod of his head. The last thing he needed between him and this delicious-looking blonde was friction of any sort.

Feeling suddenly awkward, Savanna said, “If that’s all, then I’ll get back to work.”

Before he could say anything, the telephone rang. As he reached for it, he said, “I’ll answer it this time. You go ahead and do whatever you need to do.”

Relieved, Savanna went back to her desk and began organizing her things. As she did, she noticed her hands were still grimy from changing the flat tire she’d had on her way to work.

She found a rest room at the end of the same corridor she’d used to enter the office. As she scrubbed her hands clean, she looked at her image in the mirror hanging over the lavatory. There was a tiny smudge of grease along her cheekbone and she quickly wiped it away with a corner of a brown paper towel.

Maybe Joe McCann had taken the black spot for a beauty mark, Savanna thought, then laughed to herself at that idea. She doubted her new boss had even noticed the dab of grease on her face. He’d been too busy chewing her up and spitting her out for being late.

Well, he might come on like a bear, but deep down she didn’t think he really was so tough. She could deal with him, Savanna promised herself. Before her job here was finished, Megan wouldn’t have to beg her father to walk a few blocks to the local library and Joe McCann might even learn how to loosen up and smile.

Chapter Three

Joe’s home was in a quiet, residential area that had been established years ago before the city had grown to such mammoth proportions. The house itself was red brick and situated on a large cul-de-sac. He’d lived in it with his parents from the time he was five years old. When his father died several years back, his mother had moved to Florida to retire near her sister. Since then he’d lived alone. Until last week, when Megan had moved in with him.

Tonight as he parked in the driveway and walked to the entrance, the tight ache between his shoulders reminded him how little rest he’d been getting lately. Hopefully he’d be able to eat supper and spend a quiet evening before work tomorrow.

The minute Joe stepped through the front door he was greeted with the loud blare of Megan’s rock music. Tossing his briefcase full of reports into an armchair, he walked down the hallway and knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Megan called loudly.

Joe pushed open the door to see his daughter lying on her stomach across the end of the bed, her elbows propped on either side of an open book.

He stepped into the room, then stared around him in disbelief. “What the he—heck has been going on in here?” Joe demanded.

Megan’s head of thick brown curls bobbed wildly as she jerked her head around toward her father. “What do you mean? Nothing has been going on.”

Joe went over to the stereo system and jabbed a finger on the Off button. “I’m talking about these clothes!”

Joe pointed at the countless number of garments strewn over the bed, the floor and part of the dresser.