Don't Call Me Daddy

“Just stack them on my fucking desk.” He motions to an empty spot.

“Yes, sir.” I nod.

They appear to be awards that he’s won for his work at the investment field, and one for bravery in the military. I want to ask him about it, but the expression on his face tells me that I should just keep cleaning.

I reach down for a piece of broken glass that is too big for the broom to sweep up, and my foot slides on some paper. I try to catch my balance with the broom handle, but it isn’t enough, and the glass cuts into my hand.

“Ow!” I look down and see blood. “Shit…”

“Are you okay?” Lawson jumps up in an instant and grabs my arm. “That doesn’t look good.”

“I’ll be fine.” I wince through the pain and try to close my hand.

“No, we need to clean it up.” He leans closer and folds my fingers back. “You have a piece of glass stuck in there.”

“I’m such a damn klutz.” I shake my head and mutter a few more obscenities under my breath.

“Come with me. There’s a first aid kit in the break room.” He motions for me to follow him.

My hand definitely hurts, but I can’t tell if it’s the cut or the glass that lodged in that is causing the pain. I try to pull my hand close to my chest so that I don’t drip blood all the way to the break room, which makes me look more like a zombie once I add a red stain to the front of my cheerleader uniform.

Lawson gets the first aid kit from above the sink and turns on the water. His hands are calloused and rough, but so tender when he begins to tend to my wound.

“This may hurt.” He pinches the piece of glass.

“Go ahead.” I nod and close my eyes.

I let out a gasp when he pulls it out of my hand. It feels a lot better once it’s gone, but when I open my eyes, I see that I’m bleeding even worse than before. Lawson moves my hand underneath the water which washes the blood away.

“You shouldn’t need stitches, but I think you’re done cleaning for tonight.” He sighs. “Let me patch you up, and then you can get out of here. I’ll have someone else finish it tomorrow.”

“I should be okay if you’ll just bandage it. I want to finish.” I grimace as he pours what appears to be hydrogen peroxide on my cut.

Lawson doesn’t respond; he just grabs a piece of gauze and puts it on my cut. I look away and catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror. I look like a train wreck now. The tears I cried earlier made a mess of my zombie makeup. Oddly enough, I look even more hideous than I did when Sarah first put it on.

“Alright, that should be good. You’ll probably need to change it again tomorrow.” He nods and takes a step back. “You really don’t have to keep going. It’s fine.”

“Just give me a few minutes to get cleaned up, and I’ll get back to work.” I look down at my hand. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem.” He leaves the break room and walks back to his office.

Thank god I brought my purse with me. I pull out my compact and the mini bottle of makeup remover I always keep on me. My zombie makeup is just some cheap stuff from the Halloween store and isn’t designed to last longer than a few hours. I have to use a little makeup remover to loosen the clumped layers, but it comes off pretty easily once I start scrubbing. I look a little better once it’s all removed. I take a moment to touch up a couple blemishes, and then I walk back to Lawson’s office.

“Wow, you’re not a zombie anymore.” Lawson chuckles when he sees me.

“No, now I’m just a bloody cheerleader.” I can’t help but laugh.

“Slightly better than the living dead.” He takes a drink and stands up. “If you really want to keep going, I’ll help you. It’ll get done faster if we work together.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m the one who trashed your office.” I shake my head to decline his offer.

“You didn’t do it alone. No reason you should have to clean it up on your own either.” He walks around his desk and starts picking stuff up.

I’ve made good progress, but with Lawson helping, it doesn’t take long for us to finish. I’m a bit slower with my hand wrapped in a bandage, so I’m thankful for the help.

I can’t believe Sarah didn’t come back for me—didn’t even check on me. It was her idea to begin with, and she just left me to fend for myself.

“I’m sure you’re about ready to go home.” I lean against his desk and sigh. “Sorry I kept you so long.”