Skinny Dipping

Brainstorming

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You can buy this book SKINNY DIPPING and the sequel SKINNY CAPPUCCINO on Amazon.

Chapter 7

Sophie stood poised with one hand on the whiteboard. Creative juices flew round and she hurriedly wrote down everything that was said. She loved this part of the job! She'd been leading the creative team in brainstorming ideas for the new Silver campaign and she could sense they were almost there. It was just a matter of time....

But Jessica interrupted, her arms flapping with agitation. "Sophie you've an urgent call," Jessica said. "It's your dad."

Sophie dropped the whiteboard pen and hurried to take the phone call. Her dad insisted she meet him outside the office building immediately. Then he hung up without further explanation.

She looked at the telephone receiver wondering if she'd heard right. Her father never visited her workplace because his job was on the other side of town. She hurried towards the lift and stepped inside.

The lift dropped to the ground floor. She dashed to the building exit.

Reaching the pavement outside, Sophie's eyes darted, searching for her dad. Her eyes clamped onto the recognisable figure. Mr. Roger Smart stood hunched, dressed in a tattered shirt. With a thin hand he raked his wispy, grey hair. Relief washed over Sophie as she sprinted to him. She threw her arms around his body, gathering him into an all-encompassing hug.

"Dad," she said smiling. "It's good to see you."

"You, too," he grunted.

He felt bony. Sophie released him and stepped back. His jaw line was sharp and the fabric of his shirt swum over his slight frame. She noticed his belt was frayed. Why hadn't her mum taken him shopping?

"You look lean."

His skin was dry and sallow, like he needed to lather up with a whole tub of moisturiser. "Hmmmm. I hadn't noticed," he replied, his gaze directed somewhere else, past her shoulder.

"What's up?" she asked, but he simply shrugged.

She frowned at his explanation and examined her watch. He'd just asked her to meet him downstairs at her office and the day had only just begun.

"Is there something going on?"

Her father shook his head and his lips creased upwards stiffly, reminding her of an estate agent. There was nothing genuine about his smile.

Sophie tapped her foot in slight irritation. "Shall we share a slice of cake then, while you're here?" Sophie suggested, wondering whether he needed a sweetener to explain his unpredictable behaviour.

Yet he avoided making eye contact.

"The café here has a wonderful chocolate cake," she teased, searching for some kind of reaction. "Your favourite. Remember?"

He licked his lips but didn't speak.

"Dad?" He didn't answer, or move. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he grumbled.

Sophie placed a hand on her hip and regarded him. There it was again. He glanced over her shoulder. Sophie swivelled on her heels and turned around, trying to figure out the subject of his attention.

"Sophie," her father squeaked and tugged at her arm. An overweight man stood a few feet away, monitoring the scene. The man wore a radio on his upper lapel and gripped a black hat with a white checkerboard band. He was a bobby, a law enforcement man.