Page 4 of Doughn't Let Me Go

She laughs. “Okay, I’m in, then.”

“Thank god.” I wipe my forehead. “You had me worried for a minute there. If I had to fetch my own coffee for another day, I don’t think I’d survive.” I wink at her to let her know I’m teasing as I reach for my phone to text Mel. “I’ll have my current assistant email you the various forms you have to sign, and no, we will not discuss the Tequila Clause. Just know it’s necessary.”

“My interest is piqued.”

“And piqued it shall stay.” I take a sip of my water and slide my phone back in my pocket. “I’ll also have Mel send over my home address and security code. I know it’s last minute, but if it works for you, I’d like to meet at seven tomorrow morning to go over the questions I’m sure you’ll come up with overnight and get our schedules synced a little better. I already have a few appointments tomorrow and I can’t move them.”

“That’s fine.” She waves her hand. “Seven works perfectly for me. I’m an early riser.”

“You’d have loved my schedule in LA, then. I was up at five to combat the time differences.”

“I’m not sure I meantthatearly.”

“It’s unfortunately engrained in me now. I’ve been trying to break the habit since we moved here, but no dice just yet. Anyway, things are likely to be a bit hectic these next few weeks as we get settled into a routine, so I just want to preemptively say I appreciate your patience and hard work.”

“I’m woman enough to admit that scares me a bit.”

“Don’t be scared, Fran. I’ll go easy on ya.” I wink at her again. “At first.”

“Don’t flirt with me, Porter. I’ll flirt right back, and I don’t think you could handle all this.”

I throw my head back in laughter. “We’re gonna get along just fine, Fran.”

My phone buzzes and I pull it out to see it’s Foster calling me.

I hold my finger up to Fran. “Just one moment,” I say as I bring the phone to my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Am I reallysucha bad babysitter that asking what’s wrong is your first response to me calling you?”

“Let’s just say I worry for little Nellie’s future.”

“How dare you,” he mutters. “Nothing’s wrong—quite the opposite. Kyrie wants to know if she can stay the night.”

“Wait…seriously? She hates sleepovers.”

“She and Wren are apparently best friends now. There’s even a NO BOYS ALLOWED sign on the nursery door. I feel very left out right now.”

“Do you really want to have teatime with them?”

“Yes. I look damn good in a tiara.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I laugh. “She can stay the night. I’ll grab some clothes and bring ’em over for her.”

“Did he say yes?” I hear my daughter ask in the background. “Dad, did you say yes? Please say yes!”

“I said yes.”

“He said yes, but he said you and Aunt Wren have to include me in teatime.”

“No way. Girls only!” my daughter argues.

“It’s really unfair that Nellie gets to attend and I don’t. She can’t even drink tea!”

“Foster, dude, you’re arguing with a seven-year-old over teatime.”

“And I’m gonna win the argument,” he says quietly to me.

“Dad, I need my teatime dress!”

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