My Daughter's Bestfriend

Ethan

Mornings were usually the easiest part of my day.

I liked the quiet before the phone calls started, before people began filling my calendar with meetings and problems they expected me to solve. Coffee, the news, and thirty uninterrupted minutes in my office were usually enough to get me into the right frame of mind.

Today was different. I’d been distracted since I woke up.

Not by work. Before coming into the office, I’d checked my emails, approved a payment, answered two calls from my operations team, and sat through a brief conversation with my assistant about next week’s schedule. I had done everything I normally did, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had forgotten something important.

Except I hadn’t.

There was simply a name sitting at the back of my mind that I couldn’t seem to leave alone.

Sophie Bennett, my daughter’s best friend.

I hadn’t seen her in a while, and tonight, she was coming to my house. It shouldn’t have been enough to throw me off my routine, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to settle into my work. I kept checking the time, counting down the hours until I could leave the office and head home.

By noon, I had read the same paragraph four times and couldn’t tell you what it said if you’d asked.

I leaned back in my chair and let out a frustrated breath. This was ridiculous. I was a grown man with a company to run, not a teenager waiting for someone to show up at a party.

I was usually the man in the room who noticed everything. Numbers that didn’t add up. A hesitation before someone answered a question. The tiny shift in someone’s expression when they realized they were losing an argument.

Today, none of it seemed to matter because every few minutes, my mind wandered back to the same thing.

Sophie was coming to my house tonight.

I stared through the glass wall of the conference room at the city below, trying to gather my thoughts.

At forty-four, I should have been capable of controlling where my mind went.

“Mr. Carter?”

I turned towards the voice.

Everyone around the conference table was staring at me, and judging by the look on my CFO’s face, I had missed something important.

“Sorry. What was that?”

My CFO cleared his throat and glanced at the figures on the screen. “I asked whether you approved the revised numbers.”

I looked at the presentation, then back at him.

“Yes, I did.”

He hesitated, studying me as though he were trying to decide whether to believe me.

“You’re sure?”

I held his gaze. “Would I have approved them if I wasn’t sure?”

“No, sir.”

“Then we’re good.”

He nodded quickly, and someone at the other end of the table cleared their throat. The head of marketing picked up where the discussion had left off, and the meeting continued, but I had already checked out again.

Chestnut hair.

Green eyes.

My daughter’s best friend.

That last part should have been enough to bring me back to my senses. It should have reminded me exactly who Sophie was and why the strange feeling I’d had all morning was something I needed to leave alone.

Madison’s best friend.

The girl who had practically grown up in my house. The girl who used to sit at my kitchen island doing homework while Madison complained about their teachers. The girl who always seemed to have something to say whenever I walked into a room, even if it was only to ask whether she could have another slice of the cake I’d brought home.

She had been seventeen then.

A kid.

At least, that was how I had always thought of her.

But Sophie wasn’t seventeen anymore.

She was twenty-four now. Less awkward, more confident, and with curves I had no business imagining my hands tracing.

I shifted in my chair and forced my attention back to the meeting.

I hadn’t always looked at Sophie that way. For years, she had simply been Madison’s best friend, the girl who was constantly in and out of our house. Somewhere along the way, though, something had changed.

I first noticed it in Italy.

Madison and I had gone for a few weeks, and Sophie had tagged along. We’d been staying in a house I’d purchased as an investment, a beautiful place tucked away from the usual tourist crowds.

I still remembered the exact moment everything shifted.

It was around two in the morning. I had woken up thirsty and gone downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. I was closing the refrigerator when I turned around and nearly walked straight into her.

She stood there in a negligee that barely covered her thighs.

For a second, I forgot why I’d come downstairs.

The thin fabric left little to the imagination. My eyes lingered before I could force them away, and my thoughts went somewhere they had no business going. I imagined touching her, drawing her closer, discovering what it would feel like to have her looking at me the way she was looking at me then.

I had no right to think about her that way.

She was Madison’s best friend, someone I had watched grow up. I was supposed to be the responsible adult in the room, the man who knew where the boundaries were and respected them without question.

Yet there I stood, struggling to remember how to behave normally.

“Mr. Carter?”

Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked at her face, grateful for the dim lighting that made it difficult to tell how badly I had been caught off guard.

“What are you doing up so late?” I asked.

She glanced towards the refrigerator before looking back at me.

“I was thirsty.”

“So was I.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Looks like we had the same idea.”

“Apparently.”

Neither of us moved.

Her cheeks looked flushed, although I couldn’t be certain in the low light. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I found myself following the movement before I could stop myself.

“You should get some sleep,” I said, my voice sounding more serious than I intended.

She tilted her head slightly. “Are you always this concerned about my bedtime?”

The question caught me off guard.

“I’m concerned about everyone’s bedtime when they’re wandering around the house at two in the morning.”

She laughed softly, and the sound seemed far too loud in the otherwise silent kitchen.

“Of course you are.”

There was a teasing quality to her voice, but I couldn’t work out whether she was simply being playful or whether she had noticed the effect she was having on me.

I wanted to reach out and move the loose strand of hair that had again fallen across her face, tucking it behind her ear. It would have been such a small, innocent gesture.

It didn’t feel innocent in that moment.

I knew exactly where my mind was going, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to act on it.

Then I heard Madison’s footsteps coming down the stairs.

The sound broke whatever spell had settled over the kitchen.

I stepped back immediately, muttered something about being thirsty, and left before I could give myself the chance to do something I couldn’t take back.

I told myself it had been nothing.

One moment.

One mistake in my head.

Except I remembered it a year later, and that was how I knew it hadn’t been nothing.

I rubbed a hand over my jaw and returned my attention to the conference table just as someone asked another question.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath.

My assistant, who was seated near the door, looked up from her laptop.

“Sir?”

I glanced at her. “Nothing. Go ahead.”

She gave me a brief, uncertain smile before returning to her notes.

I checked the time.

12:17.

Sophie wasn’t coming until later. There was no reason for me to be thinking about it already.

None.

I forced myself back into the meeting. It lasted another forty minutes, and I remembered almost nothing about it. By the time I left the office, I’d convinced myself I was making too much of the whole thing.

Sophie was coming over because Madison had invited her to stay for the weekend.

That was it.

Nothing complicated.

Nothing worth thinking about.

I repeated those words to myself on the drive home.

It worked for approximately six minutes.

Then my phone buzzed at a red light.

Madison: You are cooking tonight. Sophie wants Italian.

I stared at the message for a moment before replying.

Me: Fine.

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Madison: That’s it? Fine?

I frowned at the screen.

Me: What do you want me to say?

Madison: Maybe “sounds good.”

I couldn’t help smiling. Madison had always had a way of making a simple conversation feel like an interrogation when she wanted something from me.

Me: Sounds good.

Madison: Better.

I put the phone down, but another message came through before the light changed.

Madison: By the way, Taylor called. I’m thinking about going to Italy to see him next month. I’ll tell you more tonight.

Taylor had been Madison’s boyfriend for almost two years. He lived in Italy for work, and their relationship had survived long stretches apart, though Madison complained about the distance whenever she thought I wasn’t listening.

I was glad she had someone she cared about. I just wished the man lived closer than an ocean away.

Me: We’ll talk about it tonight.

Madison: I knew you’d say that.

I shook my head, smiling to myself, and set my phone aside. At least I had something else to think about now.

For about three minutes, anyway.

By six forty-five, I was in the kitchen pouring myself a drink after I had finished cooking when I heard Madison’s voice coming from the front hallway.

“Dad!”

“I’m here.”

“Can you get the door?” I frowned and glanced towards the foyer.

“Why can’t you get it?”

“Because I’m trying to curl my hair!” I heard the exasperation in her voice and laughed quietly to myself. Some things never changed.

I set my glass down and walked towards the front door.

Opening it, I came face to face with the woman who had occupied far too much of my attention that day.

Sophie stood on the doorstep wearing a simple black dress that stopped above her knees, a light jacket hanging open over it. Her chestnut hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and she had one hand wrapped around the strap of her bag.

For a moment, I forgot what I was supposed to say.

Her green eyes met mine, and she smiled as though she hadn’t just caught me completely off guard.

“Hi, Mr. Carter.”

There was something about hearing my name from her that made me pause. Perhaps it was the way she said it, or perhaps I was simply paying far too much attention to everything she did.

Either way, I took a second longer than necessary to answer.

“Hi, Sophie. It’s good to see you.”

Her smile softened a little.

“It’s good to see you too.”

Before I could say anything else, Madison appeared behind me.

“Sophie!” she exclaimed, squeezing past me to wrap her arms around her friend. “Finally! I thought you were going to make me wait all night.”

Sophie laughed and hugged her back. “I’ve been here for five seconds.”

“And those were five very long seconds.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.” They burst into laughter, and I stepped aside to let Sophie come in.

Madison grabbed her bag before Sophie could protest.

“Come on. Dinner’s ready, and I need to tell you everything that’s been happening.”

“You mean the things you’ve already told me over the phone?”

“Those were the previews. You’re getting the full version tonight.”

Sophie laughed again as Madison pulled her towards the kitchen.

As she passed me, her shoulder brushed against my arm. Her perfume followed her, warm and sweet, lingering in the air long after she had moved away.

I stood there for a moment, watching them disappear around the corner.

Then Sophie glanced back at me.

Her smile was small, almost private, as though we shared a joke nobody else knew about.

I returned it before I could think better of it.

When the front door clicked shut behind me, I had the uncomfortable feeling that the house had suddenly become much smaller.

Dinner was easy enough. We sat at the table near the living room, and Madison did most of the talking, as usual. She told us about work, complained about one of her coworkers, and spent ten minutes describing a restaurant she wanted us to try the following weekend.

Sophie listened, laughing at the right moments and occasionally adding something that made Madison laugh even harder.

It was familiar. Comfortable.

She had always been easy to like.

That hadn’t changed.

What had changed was how aware I was of her.

I noticed the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was listening, the way she leaned forward when Madison told a story, and the way her entire face lit up when she laughed.

I caught myself watching her twice.

The second time, she caught me.

Our eyes met across the table, and for a moment, neither of us looked away.

She raised her eyebrows slightly, as if silently asking what I was looking at.

I cleared my throat and reached for my glass.

Madison continued talking, completely unaware of the exchange.

Sophie turned towards her, but I noticed the small smile she tried to hide.

Get a grip, I told myself.

I was beginning to suspect that advice would be necessary for the rest of the weekend.

After dinner, Madison slipped upstairs to call Taylor, promising she’d be back in a few minutes, leaving Sophie and me to clear the table.

I began gathering the empty plates.

“I’ll help,” she said, getting to her feet.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

She reached for two plates anyway, giving me a look that suggested she wasn’t interested in arguing about it.

I watched her carry them towards the kitchen before picking up the remaining dishes and following her.

“You’ve changed,” I said as I placed the plates on the counter.

She turned towards me, one eyebrow raised.

“Is that a compliment?”

I paused, trying to work out how to answer without making the conversation awkward.

“I meant you’ve grown up.”

She laughed softly, although there was a hint of something else in her expression.

“I’d hope so. I’m twenty-four, Ethan.”

Hearing my first name caught me off guard. She had called me Mr. Carter at the door, but now she said Ethan as though she were testing how it sounded between us.

“I know how old you are.”

“Do you?”

I frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” She turned back to the counter, but I caught the smile she tried to hide. “Don’t look so serious. I was only asking.”

I watched her for a moment, trying to decide whether she was teasing me or whether there was something beneath her words.

“You seem different,” I admitted.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Different how?”

“More confident, I suppose.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Good.” She picked up two glasses and carried them towards the sink. “Because I quite like myself this way.”

Something about the way she said it made me smile.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She placed the glasses beside the plates, then turned to face me.

“You’ve always been quiet around me.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Have I?”

“Usually.”

She said it lightly, but I noticed that she was watching me more closely now. Her fingers rested against the edge of the sink, and she seemed to be waiting for my response.

“I wouldn’t say I was quiet.”

“You don’t say much to me.”

“I talk to you.”

“About practical things.” She gave me a small, knowing smile. “Whether Madison is home, what time we’re eating, whether the front door is locked. Important things like that.”

I let out a quiet laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were keeping a record.”

“Maybe I should start.”

“You’d have a very boring book.”

“I’m not so sure.”

The answer came quickly, and something in her expression made me look at her a little more carefully.

She lowered her eyes to the plates before continuing.

“Maybe I wasn’t quiet either. Maybe you just didn’t notice me.”

Her voice came out softer this time, and the change caught me off guard.

I stared at her, no longer entirely certain we were having the same conversation we’d started a moment ago.

“What makes you think I didn’t notice you?”

She shrugged, but the movement seemed a little too casual.

“I don’t know. You were always busy. You had work, Madison had school, and I was just there.”

“Just there?”

She glanced at me, then looked away again.

“You know what I mean.”

I did, but I wasn’t sure I liked the way she’d described herself.

“You were never just there, Sophie.”

Her hands stilled against the counter.

For the first time since we’d started talking, she didn’t have an immediate response.

Then she looked up at me, and I caught a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

“Really?”

“Really.”

I meant it. Whatever else I was struggling to understand about my feelings, I had never thought of Sophie as unimportant. She had been part of our lives for years. I remembered her laugh, her stubbornness, the way she could turn an ordinary afternoon into a competition with Madison over something as simple as a board game.

Perhaps I hadn’t paid as much attention to her as I should have, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t noticed her.

Sophie seemed to be considering my answer.

“That’s nice to know,” she said quietly.

There was something vulnerable in her voice that I hadn’t expected, and for a moment, I wanted to ask her what she really meant. I wanted to know whether she’d felt overlooked, whether there was something she’d wanted to tell me all these years, or whether I was reading too much into a simple conversation.

Instead, I reached for the remaining glasses.

She reached for one at the same time.

Our fingers brushed.

It was nothing. Barely anything.

Still, I noticed.

So did she.

Her gaze dropped to our hands before slowly lifting to mine. Neither of us moved for a second, and the silence seemed to stretch between us.

Then she withdrew her hand and gave a small laugh.

“You’re very serious, you know that?”

I picked up the glass and placed it beside the others, grateful for the excuse to look away.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“You’ve known me for years.”

“Exactly.” She leaned against the counter, folding her arms loosely across her chest. “You were serious when Madison and I were teenagers, and you’re serious now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you just relax.”

“I relax.”

She gave me a look of open disbelief.

“When?”

I pretended to think about it. “Sometimes.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s not an answer, Ethan.”

“What would you like me to say?”

“The truth.”

I looked at her, amused despite myself.

“The truth is that I’m tired.”

Her expression softened, and she tilted her head slightly.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

I shook my head, laughing under my breath. “You’ve become quite the smart mouth.”

“Maybe I was always like this, and you just didn’t notice.”

There it was again.

That little comment, delivered with a smile, but carrying enough meaning to make me wonder whether she was deliberately trying to tell me something.

I studied her face.

“You’ve certainly become more confident.”

“Maybe I have.”

She held my gaze for a moment before looking down at the counter.

“People change, Ethan.”

The way she said my name made me pause. Her voice wasn’t teasing now. It was quiet, thoughtful, almost as though she were reminding me of something I should have known already.

Before I could ask what she meant, Madison called from upstairs.

“Sophie!”

Sophie turned towards the stairs.

“Coming!”

She pushed away from the counter and started towards the doorway, but after a couple of steps, she stopped and looked back at me.

“Goodnight, Mr. Carter.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not even ten.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to bed already?”

She gave me a playful look. “Madison called me, remember? Or were you not listening?”

I laughed. “I heard her.”

“Good. Just checking.”

She started towards the stairs again, but something seemed to occur to her because she slowed and turned back.

Her eyes settled on mine, and a mischievous smile appeared on her face.

“Unless you wanted me to stay.”

I stared at her, caught off guard by the question.

She didn’t look away. If anything, her expression seemed to challenge me to answer. There was a playful spark in her eyes, but something warmer sat beneath it, something I couldn’t quite read.

For a moment, I considered asking her what she meant.

Instead, I cleared my throat.

“Shouldn’t you be getting upstairs?”

Her smile widened.

“I’m teasing you, Ethan.”

She said my name again, this time with a lightness that made it impossible to tell whether she was deliberately testing me or simply enjoying my discomfort.

Then she turned and walked towards the stairs.

I found myself noticing the slight sway of her hips with each step, and I immediately looked away.

Too late.

The image was already in my head.

I heard her footsteps disappear upstairs and let out a slow breath, resting my hands against the kitchen counter.

That girl was going to be trouble and the worst part was that I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted her to stop.