Page 42 of Who's Your Daddy
Two seconds into the call, I cut the kid off.
“You’re telling me the judge still hasn’t signed the new order?”
Cal, who’s sitting across from me—yes, he moved me into the conference room with him, just like he said he would—freezes, focus trained on me. A framed picture of Murphy and T.J. in his hand, hovering a few inches over the table.
I’m trying to ignore him. After last night, it was hard enough. But now that he’s so adorably decorating our office with family pictures, feelings are creeping up that I don’t want.
The photo just inside the entrance was a nice touch. It’s one of the three guys with Terry. But when he hung the picture of his father and me from our Christmas party last year, a lump formed in my throat.
Yeah. I’m definitely ignoring the emotions roiling inside me. Ineed bane-of-my-existence Cal back. This version of Cal, the one that makes me tingle in all the places I don’t want, has to go.
He cocks a brow, and my traitorous stomach flips.
Desperate to fight the magnetic pull, I lower my focus to the table and the pen I’m tapping against a legal pad.
“Well…” The law clerk’s mumble is hard to hear over my incessant tapping.“We’re working on it.”
Irritation is a living, breathing entity inside me. Working on it my ass. For two months, our client—who does not have kids or a child support obligation—has been harassed by probation for the arrears they now think he owes. It wasn’t until a few weeks after it began, when he received a letter from probation in the mail, that poor Howard even knew this was going on.
The issue was a result of a mistake out of Judge Cabello’s chambers. And for whatever fucking reason, he’s taking his sweet time righting the wrong.
“Our client is about to have a lien put on his house because of a child support obligation for a child thatdoesn’t exist. You get that right?” There’s no tempering my rage.
“Hopefully soon.”
I grit my teeth. “I need ittoday.”
“I’ll talk to the judge.” He hangs up before I can insist he do it right now.
Dammit. Now I’m going to have to call probation and hope I can convince them to slow down the process of putting that lien on his house.
A clatter nearly makes me jump from my seat. Cal has set the frame down, but now he’s holding a second print of the same photo.
“What are you doing with that one?”
“It’s for Sully’s office.” He gives me a crooked smile, pride seeping from every inch of his handsome face. “I’m livening the place up.” His expression suddenly sobers, and he averts his gaze. “Unless you don’t want them there.”
I scan the pictures he’s set out. His dad. His brother. His son...and me.
Dammit. That twinge in my chest is back.
Cal has always seemed like a shallow pond, fun and flaky. But I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve just never given him a chance to be more. With a sigh, I look at him again only to find him watching me, anticipation etched in the lines on his face, like he’s waiting for my response. The air grows heavy under his warm gaze. He seems to genuinely care about my response.
“It’s perfect there.” I clear my throat as my voice cracks.
“Whatever Lola wants…”
The line to that damn song is enough to snap me out of the weird stupor I’ve tripped and fallen into. “Stop that.”
“Lo,” Sully hollers from his office. “I’m sending a letter to your printer. It needs to be filed on JEDS to adjourn tomorrow morning.”
I stand, my body moving on autopilot toward the new laser inkjet printer. We set it up on the corner table for the time being. Just until we can install a larger maggot-free machine.
The paper is warm as I pluck it from the printer tray. I’ll get this done and then attempt to call probation again
“I just printed a consent order,” Brian yells. “It needs to be finalized on Tervant, and itmustbe filed today.”
I bite back an annoyed groan. Guess I’ll call after I do the consent order.
