Page 6 of Strictly the Worst

She takes a long breath, her chest lifting. Then she touches her dark hair, as though she’s worried a strand is out of place.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, in a voice that tells me it does matter, a lot. “It’s done. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“If you can travel to Exuma, I’ll back out,” I say magnanimously. Okay, not so magnanimous. I don’t want to be the asshole that stole her project. Truth be told, I want nothing to do with it.

“I can’t do that.” Her lips press together.

I wrack my brain about what to say. Right now all I can see is a red flashing light, warning me of danger.

“Why not?” I frown at her. If it was me, I’d jump at this opportunity.

“Because I can’t exactly leave my child to fend for herself.”

“Can’t your husband look after your kid for a week?”

She looks at me coolly. “My ex-husband is probably busy.” She slides into the car seat. I try not to notice as her skirt rides up, revealing perfectly toned thighs.

I’d forgotten that she was divorced. And now my mouth feels dry because I’m the asshole that stole a project from a single mom.

“Maybe we can work together,” I suggest, my hand on the car roof. I’m leaning down and talking to her through her open car door. “I’ll do the client facing stuff. You can be the backseat driver.”

Her brows knit. “What?”

“We can split the bonus,” I offer.

Her rosebud lips form a little ‘o’ as she exhales heavily. “I’m not a charity case. It’s fine. Roman’s made his decision. I’ll work on something else.” She waves her hand, as though to dismiss me.

My phone buzzes. I look down at the screen and sigh, because it’s rare that I go an hour without a call from a client. The one that demands most of my attention – Celine – is the CEO of a makeup company in London. She’s as needy as my inner child. But I have to take this call, because that’s my job. If she calls Roman, he’ll be pissed that I didn’t pick up first.

Plus, I know we’re hemorrhaging clients, thanks to them all believing that they no longer need a PR firm when AI should take up the reins very nicely, thank you very much.

“Sorry. I have to take this.”

“Sure.”

She slams her car door shut, and as I accept the call and put the phone to my ear, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to make her smile. To make her laugh. She’s been married, she has a kid. Her ex-husband must have made her smile at least once.

“Celine,” I say, my eyes still on Carmichael as she starts her engine and the car pulls away. “How are you today?”

TESSA

I end up taking Zoe out for dinner – because there’s still no sign of Jared or Melissa and I don’t want to drop her off at their apartment until at least one of them is there. Not because I don’t trust her alone, but because I don’t trust them to actually come home. And if she’s home alone all night I’ll have to drive back over and pick her up. So, we’re at a diner near their apartment.

Zoe has a manga on the table in front of her, using one hand to turn the pages while she eats her burger with the other. She’s obsessed with anime, has been for the last two years. She laughs at something on the page and I smile.

Damn, I love this girl.

Her phone rings. She licks some ketchup from her hand before answering. “Hey Dad,” she says. “Where are you?” Her eyes catch mine and she rolls them.

I try not to listen in to their conversation. I’m not even mad that he was late picking her up anymore. I got to spend more time with her which is fine by me.

“Actually, I just ate a burger,” she says.

And then his voice becomes louder that I can hear it from across the booth.

“I was hungry. And I didn’t know when you were coming home,” Zoe replies. She looks at me and I shoot her a smile but say nothing. She’s a strong kid and can handle her dad for the most part. I only step in if I’m needed. “Okay,” she says to him. “Bye.”

“Why can’t I come home with you?” she asks when she hangs up the call. “I want to help choose the colors.”

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