Ron typically joked about how lucky he’d been in snatching such a gorgeous woman’s heart, but he wasn’t bad-looking either.
Sure, he was somewhat lanky but reasonably handsome, and Sora figured he’d only continue to fill out since he’d only just recently hit his thirties.
Pondering the last three years in which Ron had taken on a more prominent role in her life, she couldn’t help but remember the woman who had been almost like a mother to her growing up and how her previous psychiatrists’ lies had caused a wedge between her long-standing caretaker and her father, ending in her resignation.
Ms.
Noelia Aguayo, a Cuban immigrant, refused to give Sora any medication and rejected the claims thrown against her.
Sometimes, Sora wished the woman hadn’t gone to bat for her, but the Cuban woman wouldn’t back down, leading to an ultimatum: even if she didn’t want to, she walked to prove how seriously she took the claims.
Noelia had principles that wouldn’t allow her to take part in anything she believed was wrong, and Sora was both bitter and happy at how adamant she’d been since Noelia had helped raise her, which led to her current situation.
Ron and Howie had taken on more of a role in her medication since she was thirteen and didn’t need a nanny anymore.
Her father told the men they’d never need to find another job so long as they were there for her, and they had fulfilled that promise.
Even on their days off, Ron would be there for her evening and morning meds, while Howie handled the afternoon.
Sora puffed out a short breath before trying to lighten her mood with another topic.
“How’s Stephanie doing—six months pregnant, right?” A tender smile lit Ron’s face with some laughter.
“Yup, and she’s running me dry with these late-night ice cream sandwich deliveries.
“Ooh!” Sora smirked and nudged his side.
“The preggo-hunger got you up against the wall still, huh?” “Uh-heh-he, I wouldn’t call it that in front of her!” Ron forced a grin.
“Have a name picked out for him yet?” Ron leaned against the glass wall, streaming air through his teeth with a look that said they were at an impasse.
“I want Braxton, but… ugh, she’s leaning toward Björn.” “Bj-what?” Sora mumbled.
“Where’d that name come from?” Ron shrugged.
“Eh, I think it was originally Old Norse… or something like that.” “Huh.
Didn’t think Stephanie was into that kind of thing.” Another person into Norse stuff, huh… Maybe it’s not as uncommon as I thought?
“Well, yeah… Steph is pretty versed in history.
It’s like a hobby of hers—” They fell silent as the elevator stopped several floors before the lobby, but no one was there, making them wait until it shut again.
“Humph.” Ron peeked out with Sora, looking left and right, but no one seemed to be in the fancy hallway, which was weird, as only a few floors actually connected to this private elevator.
“Odd.” “Yeah.
That doesn’t happen too often,” she whispered.
“Erm… Anyway, I’m just feeling a bit off about all this…” Sora lifted an eyebrow.
“The elevator?” “No.
No… being a father—what if I’m terrible?
What if I don’t support Stephanie like I should?” “Impossible!” she flatly denied, giving him a stern look that made him chuckle.
“Quit sweating that!
Just look how good you are with me.” “Teenagers and babies are two different topics, Sora…” Ron argued, watching the doors close again.
“True.
True.
You’ll still do great!” “Maybe.
My dad wasn’t… the best role model.” Sora made an X sign with her hands to catch his focus.
“Nope!
I don’t know anything about your dad or whatever, but I’ve known you for nine years, and you’ll be a terrific father!” “Right…” The doors opened sooner than Sora would have liked, causing Ron to wave and swap gears.
“I’ll always be in your corner.” “Don’t change the subject!
But… thank you,” she said quietly before laughing and stepping out with a quick gesture.
“You’ll do great, and tell Steph that I’d like to swing by and see if I can feel him kick—you keep teasing me about it, and I want to feel it myself!” “Fair!” the man chuckled.
“I’ll bring it up to her before I crash, and, Sora… will you promise me to talk to your dad about your hair?” “Hmm?
Oh, yeah, sure.
And you better!” Sora pointed with narrowed eyes.
“Maybe we can go on an ice cream run together later and watch some Japanese drama or something—you guys can come over!” “I’ll be working, sadly.” “Boo!
I’ll hire some random person on the street to man the elevator.” That made her laugh.
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?!” “See you later tonight.” “Sure thing!” Sora waved to a few senior employees who wished her a good morning as she entered the lobby and made her way to the street.
A few quizzical looks from a few people said they wondered the exact same thing as Ron had: that she’d had a wig made.
Paul opened the door past security with a smile, and Sora thanked him as she stepped out onto the dark, early-morning walkway at the hotel entrance to make her way to the open gates that led to the public walkway.
After several paces, Sora came to an immediate halt as spots filled her vision on the brightly lit hotel grounds, and her skin prickled as a sharp gust struck her exposed skin.
Nausea spontaneously hit her in the gut as she stumbled to the side, grabbing her stomach with millions of sounds and smells filling her senses.
Fingers swiftly moving to her ears, Sora squeezed her eyes shut with a gag as panic gripped her chest, yet everything dulled in seconds to be replaced with the most heavenly aroma she’d ever experienced.
Identifying the bright, pleasant, and slightly nose-tingling heat of Dijon mustard, Sora’s watering vision peeked open—now she smelled the scent of nuts and something like stewed fruit, similar to the bottles of sherry from some of the parties she’d been to with her dad.
Bacon tickled at the edges of her mind before everything seemed to collapse, faculties returning to a somewhat normal state.
It went so quickly that it left her in a partial daze as she reflexively swallowed, tasting the lingering flavors on her tongue.
Licking her lips, she looked beyond the few people around the driving space who gave her questioning stares before moving in the direction of the school.
It’s coming from this way…