Clara Grant smiled and said to Skylar Hayes, "Mom, let him sleep with . You should get so rest."
"Alright then. You two get to bed early, too." Skylar Hayes knew Cherie was fond of her daughter, so she didn’t say anything more. With a final word of advice, she went into her room.
Clara Grant led Cherie into her bedroom. After he climbed onto the bed, she started rummaging through her closet for pajamas, getting ready to take a shower.
"Clara, you didn’t co ho last night, and you’re so late again today. Where were you?" Cherie asked, sitting up in bed with his eyes fixed on Clara.
Clara’s movents paused for a mont before she replied, "Where else would I be? Just school, classes, and making deliveries."
"Really?" Cherie seed unconvinced. Tilting his head, he went on, "You weren’t out on a date with a boyfriend, were you?"
Draping the pajamas she’d found over her arm, Clara walked to the bedside and sat down. Half-amused, half-exasperated, she poked Cherie’s forehead with her finger. "You little rascal, you know so much, don’t you? But no, I wasn’t on a date. I don’t even have a boyfriend."
Cherie seed to breathe a sigh of relief, then asked again, "For real?"
"For real!"
"Then who have you t with over the past two days?"
"Who else but that dad of—"
Before she could even finish the word "dad," Clara caught herself. ’I let my guard down around this kid,’ she thought. ’I almost let it slip.’
"Ahem. Nobody. Just classmates from school, and that Miss Shelby you t the other day."
But even though she’d stopped herself in ti, Cherie had still heard. And he guessed the word she’d left unfinished was "daddy."
He was instantly delighted. ’Clara and Daddy t again? That ans they can run into each other even without playing matchmaker.’
’It must be fate!’
"Oh. Well, you looked so happy and cheerful, I figured you must have been on a date," Cherie said, shaking his head sagely.
Clara just smiled, then turned away and muttered under her breath, ’I don’t know what I did to deserve this, running into that scumbag father of yours three or four tis in two days. Every single ti was so intense... It’s a wonder I haven’t died of pure rage. Happy and cheerful? Yeah, right.’
Though her voice was quiet, Cherie, who had been listening intently, caught the gist of it. At the very least, he’d heard the most useful piece of information: Clara really had t "Daddy" again, and more than once.
He kept a straight face and spoke with great seriousness, "Still, Clara, I think you should find a boyfriend. Soone who’s fabulously wealthy. That way, you wouldn’t have to work so hard for money."
"Fabulously wealthy? Oh, co on. That’s way out of my league. Why don’t you introduce to soone like that?" Clara joked.
"Okay! My uncle is. I’ll introduce you to my uncle." Cherie’s eyes twinkled.
’His uncle?’ Clara wanted to say, ’If your uncle was fabulously wealthy, your mom probably wouldn’t be so desperate to send you back to your father.’
’Besides, she can’t even find his mom right now; how is she supposed to find his uncle?’
Clara shook her head, not taking him seriously. She stood up and replied dismissively, "Alright. When you see your uncle, you can introduce us."
With that, she went into the bathroom to take a shower.
Watching her close the bathroom door, Cherie imdiately tapped on his watch a few tis to call his mother.
The call rang several tis before it was answered. Before the person on the other side could even speak, a blast of ear-splitting music ca through the line.
Cherie pressed his lips together in resignation. ’Mom’s gone clubbing again. It’s always like this. Whenever she gets into a fight with Dad, she goes clubbing.’
’Except this ti was more serious—she’d flown back to the country just to do it.’
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