Office Hours

36 | the w e a r y

| G R A C E |

    GRACE GLARED AT THE OFFICERS before she stepped through the door Caden was holding open for her.

"I'm going to make my dad get them fired," she angrily stated.

Caden chuckled as they stopped before her Rolls Royce. "You don't have to do that."

"Then why'd you call me?" She looked up at him for an answer. He looked too tired for her to read him properly.

Caden looked away from her momentarily before he said, "I didn't know who else to call."

For some reason, that made her heart sink. She should've felt happy that he turned to her. But she didn't. She felt like he was only using her. And if he was, she couldn't blame him. She figured she owed him a small favor for all the hassle her father had put him through while they dated. . . or whatever that was.

"I see," she said, forcing a smile. "Do you want me to drop you anywhere?"

"No. Thanks."

Grace chewed on her lip. Caden was standing close to her, if she took one step forward, she could hug him. She missed him, but knew he had moved on to someone else.

Withholding a sigh, she gave him another fake smile. If he saw that the smile didn't reach her grey eyes, he didn't say anything. "You're welcome, Caden. I. . . I guess I'll see you around."

Watching her, he merely nodded.

Grace knew they wouldn't be seeing each other around.

***

    WHEN SHE ARRIVED HOME, she went to her father's office. She took a seat before his desk and Christian sighed.

"What is it Grace?"

"I came to ask for a favor," she replied.

"Favor? You're my daughter, you don't beg favors. Get on with it," he said with a wave of his hand.

Grace cleared her throat. Her dad seemed to be in a good mood, she didn't want to ruin it. But the drive from the station had given her a lot of time to think. She had to do this.

"Your scholarship programme from the Jackson Foundation. . . I was wondering if you could extend it towards the lower class?" she hesitantly asked.

Christian paused signing a document. Resting the pen aside, he sat more upright and clasped his hands atop the mahogony table. "Is this about that boy?"

Grace nervously swallowed. "Yes. . ."

"No," he said, grabbing his pen and returning to what he was doing.

"Dad-"

"Grace, I said no!" Christian boomed.

Right then, Whitney entered the office, holding a tray with something that smelled like coffee. Whitney smiled at her daughter but Grace didn't return it. Instead, she narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. Whitney's face was caked with makeup.

What happened when I was gone?

"Leave, Whitney," Christian said to his wife and she instantly complied. To his daughter, he said, "I'm not wasting money on them. Most of them end up as drop-outs anyway."

Grace sighed. "Dad, your scholarship always goes towards kids from Eastlake. They all can afford education for themselves and even their grandchildren," Grace said but her father remained unmoved. "Think about your relection," she bribed and he paused. "The parents of Meadowbrook and Riveria will love you. They'll say you're for the people."