Page 38 of Strictly the Worst

“Family game night sounds fun,” I say, encouragingly.

“About as fun as getting your fingernails pulled out one by one,” she mutters.

I’m about to reply when the door behind me opens. I turn to see Linc walking in. He takes his sunglasses off and looks over at me.

“Oh, you’re still on your call,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Who’s that?” Zoe asks. Because when I turned, I must have angled the phone at him.

“It’s my co-worker.”

“I’ll go,” he mouths at me. I nod.

“Hi co-worker. What’s your name?” Zoe asks, her voice echoing through the speaker. She sounds more animated than she has since I called.

“His name is Linc,” I say. “We’re working on the pitch I told you about.”

“Hi Linc,” she says.

“Hi.” He looks so relaxed as he walks over and smiles at her. The smile she gives him back is huge. “It’s Zoe, right?”

“Yeah.” She can’t hide how pleased she is that he knows her name.

“Hey, is that a Linebackers t-shirt?” he asks her. I lift a brow, surprised he knows who they are.

“It is,” she gushes. “They’re my favorite band.”

“Mine too. I know the lead singer.”

Her mouth drops open. “You do?”

“Yep. I think they’re coming to New York next month. I could probably get you a backstage pass if you’re interested.”

“Oh my God!” she squeals, and for the first time since I called her she looks like an overexcited teenager. “That’s amazing. Mom, did you hear that?”

“Yeah, I heard.” I give her a smile because it’s nice to see her happy. I know the past few years have taken their toll on her. Jared and I both took her to family counseling when we first told her about the split, and she’s had some individual counseling since.

But I know the upheaval has been hard anyway.

“I’ll send Ryker a message. See what we can do.”

“That’s amazing. Thank you so much,” she says.

“No problem.” He glances at me. “I’m going to get changed. I dropped in on the restaurant. They’re going to send food over at seven. That work?”

“It works great. Thank you.” I smile at him.

“Bye Zoe,” he says. “I promise you’ll have your mom back soon. Thanks for lending her to us.”

“Any time,” Zoe says. And if she wasn’t thirteen years old, I’d swear her voice was all breathy.

Even kids get entranced by Linc Salinger.

“Has he left?” she whispers, after he’s grabbed some fresh clothes from his suitcase and headed into the bathroom.

“Yeah.” I’m not going to explain that he’ll be back. Or that we are, in fact, sharing a cottage. Sure, I like to be truthful with my child.

But there are some things she doesn’t need to know.

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