Page 57 of Who's Your Daddy
Benjamine is just as helpful as Stanley was. Is it because Cal is tipping him as well? Probably.
The thought sends a wave of mixed emotions through me. Growing up, I never experienced that kind of concerned care from another person. My parents see the world as one big adventure. Worrying isn’t in their DNA. When I was twenty-two and told them I was moving to New York, they weren’t the least bit apprehensive. There was no fear regarding their young daughter living alone in the city. No, the announcement was met with nothing but excitement.
Their style ofparenting meant I was allotted a great deal of freedom.In high school, my friends were all envious. No one understood how difficult it was to not feel cared for like that.
So the idea that Cal has always cared leaves me off-kilter.
“Knockity Knock knock.”
My stomach jumps at the sound of his voice.
The whole way to the door, I remind myself that this is a weekend work event and nothing more. There’s no reason butterflies should be fluttering in my belly.
I pull the door open and find him with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, rocking back on his heels, looking casual and so, so right standing in my door.
“You ready, Lola?” His eyes roam over my wrap dress, his lips tipping up. “Need me to grab your bag?”
All I can do is stare. Why does it feel like he should be here? Like greeting him at the door like this should be a normal thing?
It shouldn’t be. This is a work trip. This is not a date. We’re not even staying together.
When I don’t respond, he sheepishly peers down at his white Oxford and jeans. “What?”
The issue isn’t his clothes. It’s the boyish charm. Because once again, he’s got me feeling off-kilter.
“What do you think about the dress?” He smirks like he’s privy to exactly how I reacted.
No way will I give him the satisfaction of knowing just how perfect it is. I need to put him back where he belongs. Back into the box of annoying. “It’s fine.”
“Fine, huh?” His blue eyes dance. “So the crystals didn’t match your shoes perfectly?”
I sigh, giving in. “How did you do it?”
“I called Jimmy Choo.”
“Oh, so a stylist picked it out to match.” I reach for my suitcase, but before I can get ahold of the handle, he grasps it.
“No, he sent me a photo and I went shopping.” He holds the door for me.
My heart thumps against my breastbone. “When did you have time for that?”
“I finished up with Judge Espadrilles early so I stopped on the way to get the boys.”
I snort. The ridiculous man gave the judge a nickname based on the kind of shoes she always wears.
“One day you’re going to mess up and call her that to her face.” I shake my head.
“After all this time, you still doubt me? I’d never mess up like that.” His grin makes my lips twitch without my permission.
“Anyway, it gave me enough time to find the dress before the boys got out of school. Then I picked it up on my way home. You know New York has the best shopping. There’s nothing that can’t be found there.”
“New York has the best everything.”
He dips his chin. “It does.”
“And we’re stuck here in Jersey.”
“Not tonight, Lola.” His eyes flash. “Tonight we’re going on the whirly-twirly.”
