Free Lovers & Liars by Jean C. Joachim Page B

a
light blue Henley T- shirt, open at the neck, and snug-fitting
jeans that hugged his slim hips and cute butt. Sunglasses rested on the top of
his head, and a fleece-lined, black leather jacket was slung over his shoulder.
He had two pieces of luggage near the door.
    “We’re
going to have to pay extra for these bags,” she said.
    “ Shhh .” He put his finger over her lips, making them tingle.
“No worries. I don’t care if we pay extra. We travel in style.”
    She
smiled up at him. His phone rang. “Gunther Quill Productions. Hi, Gabe. Sure.”
She put the call on hold. “Gabe Allison.”
    Gunther
went into his office to answer the line. Erica turned her focus back to the computer
screen and began to type details into a new contract. She didn’t hear the door
open. She rose straight up out of her chair when the male voice spoke.
    “There
you are. I’ve had a helluva time tracking you down,”
the voice growled.
    Her
blood ran cold at the sound of her father’s baritone. She swiveled around in
her chair to confront him. His face was puffy. He’s been drinking. Told me he gave that up. His little, green, pig
eyes studied her coldly. “Thought you gave up drinking,” she said.
    “Yeah,
well, you hit a losing streak like we did, and you’d hoist a few, too.”
    “What
are you doing here? You can’t be here. I work here. This is a place of
business.”
    “Yeah.
Mr. Fat-Cat producer’s office. Mr. Gunther Quill, right? Bet he pays you a
pretty penny.”
    “That’s
none of your business. Get out.” She pushed to her feet.
    “I
know you’re sending money to Billy.”
    She
gasped, sinking down into her chair.
    “Thought
you could fool your old man, eh? Wrong. Yeah, I’ve been using that money for
quite a while now.”
    Tears
of anger gathered in her eyes. “Why you low-down, deadbeat…”
    “Watch
it!” He raised his arm, his hand flat, aimed at her. “I’m still your father. You
treat me with respect.”
    “Earn
it,” she spat at him, cringing.
    With
that, he slapped her across the face, hard. She flew backwards and knocked a
lamp over on her way to the floor. The commotion brought Gunther out of his
office.
    “What
the hell? What’s going on out here?” When he saw Erica on the floor with her
hand on her cheek and tears in her eyes, he rushed over. After helping her up,
he turned to her father. “Did you hit Erica? Who the hell are you?”
    “ Mayburn Wheeler. That’s my daughter. I can hit her whenever
I want.” He stuck his chin out.
    “I
don’t think so! You hit her across the face?” Anger clouded Gunther’s eyes.
“Get out. Get out of here before I call the police.”
    “She
had it coming. She was disrespecting me. She owes me. How much are you paying
her? You should fork over half her salary to me. She’s got family in need.
She’s got to give us some money. Erica! You come over here.” He pointed to a
spot next to him. His eyes flashed. “Tell this man what you did!”
    Erica
cowered back, still holding her red cheek. Gunther stepped in front of her.
    “Get
out of here. She doesn’t owe you anything. You’re a drunken mess, poor excuse
for a father. Leave!” Gunther raised a fist and approached Mayburn ,
who wobbled on his feet and retreated for a moment.
    As
soon as Gunther moved back, Erica’s father inched closer to her. “You’d better
send me some money, girl. You owe us. We’re family.” He raised his hand again
and stepped toward her.
    Gunther
moved to cut him off, blocking the man’s hand as he lowered it to strike. One
swift punch to the gut by her boss threw the drunken man off balance, and he
toppled to the ground. Erica gasped.
    Gunther’s
voice was threatening, a low, guttural sound she had never heard before. “Get
out,” he said, slowly, his anger clearly building. “Get out, and leave her alone.
If I hear you ever bother her again, I’ll call the police, and she’ll file
assault charges. I’m a witness.”
    “You
didn’t see