Page 83 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

“I need a new job, with fewer people breathing down my neck,” she complains. Maya lowers her head down to the kitchen table. “Why can’t I get what I want? I just want to work. I like my work. Why won’t they let me work?”

I roll up my newspaper and reach across the table to pat her head with it. “There, there. Life sucks.”

“It does,” she moans.

“Let’s get some ice cream after work and watch that reality show you’ve been recording here.”

Her head pops up, guilt in her eyes. “You know about that?”

“Finn isn’t good at keeping secrets. And since you’ve been having him save the episodes for you, it hasn’t exactly missed my notice.”

Maya gives me a wry grin. “Sorry.”

“Have some more coffee and cheer up. I’ll help you look for a new job if you want.”

I pour her another cup, and she rests her cheek on her palm. “I can’t decide whose life sucks more right now. Although, considering you nearly got killed, practically disemboweled, and your ex is back in your life like a stalker, I think you’re winning.”

“Thanks,” I say dryly. “That’s very reassuring. Go get Finn dressed, will you? We have to leave in an hour.”

“Why do I have to do it?” she protests.

“You just have to make sure he doesn’t put on something ridiculous, Maya. And because you deleted the interview I wanted to watch.”

My friend grimaces before draining her coffee and heading up the steps, grumbling, “Interview, my ass. I bet it was porn.”

I chuckle. “It could have been. It’s my word against yours, isn’t it?”

She mutters something else under her breath, and I ignore it. As long as she makes sure Finn doesn’t put his underwear on his head like one of those ridiculous superheroes he’s so fond of, I don’t care what she says.

As I move toward the sink, I wince at the ache in my belly. I’ve healed, but not entirely.

Glancing out the kitchen window, I know today isn’t going to be easy by any means. Cedric may be giving me space right now, but for how long?

I’m proven right when I exit the house and see Cedric waiting in the driveway for me.

“Leanna—”

“Get in the car, Finn,” I order. Without another word to Cedric, I make sure my son is safely buckled up and then drive off.

Did I really think that would be enough to get rid of him? Imagine my irritation when I see Cedric reach the palace entrance just before we do.

As soon as I exit the car, he approaches me. My jaw tenses, and I pick Finn up in my arms.

“Mom!” My son never protests being carried. It’s still his favorite mode of transportation. But when he sees Cedric, his face turns bright red, and he begins wriggling in my arms. “Mom, put me down!”

“Let the boy get down, Leanna,” Cedric says disapprovingly. “He’s seven. Stop treating him like an infant.”

I bristle. “He’s my son. If I want to carry him, that’s up to me. Stay out of it.”

But Cedric has never been one to listen. He plucks Finn out of my arms and sets him down on the ground. Before I can pick the boy up again, he moves away from me.

“Mom, stop. I don’t want to be carried. I can walk.”

“But—”

He gives me an awkward look, whispering, “You’re embarrassing me!”

I stare at him, stunned. Embarrassing him? In front of whom?

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