Page 121 of Who's Your Daddy
Lola was wrong about Murphy’s case. It didn’t take the court two months to issue a no finding and close the case. It took two months, five days, and six hours.
But who’s counting?
Oh, right. Me.
I’ve spent the last week pacing, racking my brain for how to prove that I’m worthy of being Murphy’s parent. I’ve successfully kept all of my plants alive, Bubbles has just celebrated his eighth week of life, and Fuzzy is the prettiest cat to ever strut down a Jersey street. Most importantly, Murphy is happy, healthy, and smarter than any other kid in his class. Not that I can take credit for any of that. The kid essentially takes care of me.
Regardless, he’s officially mine and I’m his. Letter in hand, I rush through the office, poking my head in one room after another in search of Lola.
There’s not a person in sight but as I pass the cupboard where Lola and I were trapped a couple of weeks ago, I swear I hear Sloaney’s voice.
Stopping short, I press my ear to the door.
“I can see that you’re in the happy stage, but Lo, come on. You’re smart and driven.”
“And?” Lola says, her tone a little biting.
My heart pounds in my chest. What are they doing in there? And why does it feel like I shouldn’t be listening?
“You can’t date a man you work with.”
My heart plummets at Sloane’s words.
“Yes, the two of you are disgustingly cute, but we both know how easily work relationships can go bad.”
But we’re different. We have a plan and Post-it notes.
Tell her, Lola.
But my girl doesn’t reply.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I take a step back and tug at my hair.
“You know I’m right. And I have a solution. Come work with me,” Sloaney, the traitor, says.“Will would take you in a heartbeat.”
Absolutely not. Muscles tensing, I reach for the door. I’ve heard enough.
Just as I’ve grasped the knob, Sloane speaks again, her tone softer this time. Though her words are just as painful. “Lo, let’s be real. I’m not moving in. The firm is going under. It’s time for you to think about your job, your future. Don’t tank your career for a man. I did it and I’m telling you, it’s not worth it.”
Heart lodged in my throat, I wait for Lola to defend what we have. I hold my breath so long my vision blurs, yet she still doesn’t speak.
Bloody hell. Is she seriously considering Sloane’s suggestion?
She can’t leave. Fuck.
In a panic, letter clutched in my hands, I stumble up the steps to our flat, all the while willing my daft brain to come up with a plan to change her mind.
For now, I won’t confront her about it. Hell, maybe I never will.
The flat is quiet so I pace, considering every possible outcome of that conversation. If I get it out now, I can move on and forget I ever heard it.
I’m yanking at my hair again, spiraling, suddenly certain I’ll lose Lola to another firm when the door opens and Murphy walks in.
“Cal?” Head tilted, he studies me. “Are you okay?”
Shit. I forgot Murphy would be here.
“Where’ve you been?” I ask him, releasing my hair.
