Page 93 of Who's Your Daddy
Unfortunately, at that point, I realize T.J. is missing and Murphy is watching me with a wide-eyed expression. Basically, everything is going wrong and I’m failing at this whole parenting thing. I ruffle his hair, still off-kilter by the way he’s clammed up again. “Do you know where T.J. is?”
He gives his head a shake, his dark hair flopping in his eyes. It’s about time to get the boy a proper haircut. “I’ll find him,” he says. “Lola needs your help.”
My heart leaps. “She does?” I lean back, peering into the conference room.
Amy’s there, but no Lola.
“Yup.” He points to the storage cupboard. “She’s in there. Mumbling about what she’ll do if a ladybug jumps out and surprises her. She needs paper for the copy machine but can’t reach the box.”
“Oh.” I smooth my tie and straighten my cuffs. “Okay, you find T.J. and I’ll help Lola. Then we’ll head upstairs and I’ll get the two of you set up to do your homework. Deal?”
Murphy nods solemnly. “Deal.”
I march toward the supply cupboard, a pep returning to my step because Lola actuallyasked for my help. She hasn’t done that in… I don’t know how long. Come to think of it, asking me to call the exterminator aside, I don’t believe she’s ever counted on me for anything.
With a flourish, I pull the door open. When light spills into the space, she sags in relief. “Oh, thank God?—”
Before she can finish her sentence the door slams shut behind me and we’re blanketed in darkness.
Chapter 32
Lola
Idart around Cal, grasping for the doorknob, but it’s too late. Now we’re both trapped. I jiggle it anyway, as if it’s not exactly what I was doing, without success, before Cal appeared.
“Shit.” I sigh. I’ve been knocking on the walls for a solid five minutes to no avail. The closet is on the wall near the street entrance, not near the offices, so I can only imagine that even if the guys could hear me, they’ve assumed my pounding is noise from outside.
“Does the door lock from the outside?” Cal rubs his jaw. Even in the dim light of the old bulb dangling from the ceiling, the light scruff there is visible. He’s typically clean-shaven, but for the last few days, it’s as if he hasn’t felt like it. Or maybe he’s been too tired. With every day that passes, his brightness dulls a little more.
He's not the only one. Each morning, when I have to push Cal away, I get a little more cranky. And as we drift farther apart, the ache in my chest grows. It is next to impossible to work in such close proximity and not want to touch him. To make him smile. To laugh when he says,whatever Lola wants.
“I don’t know, Cal,” I huff. It’s easier to snap at him than give in to my longing. “But I’ve been stuck in here for at least five minutes.”
With one wall covered with cabinets and a counter and the other lined with shelves, the space is hardly big enough for the two of us. We’re only three steps apart, and God, is it tempting to close the distance between us.
I garner every ounce of self-control I can muster, like I have every day for the last two weeks, and stay where I am.
“Why didn’t you have Murphy open the door for you rather than coming to get me?” He scans the shelves above my head. They’re all empty because I’m too short to reach them. “What did you need help getting to?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I cross my arms and shuffle back. “Murphy and T.J. were playing tag, making all kinds of noise. I caught T.J. and sent him upstairs because they were driving Sully insane. It took longer to find Murphy. When I did, he told me you asked if I’d pull out a few reams of copier paper. When I came in to get it, the door locked behind me.”
Face falling, Cal turns to face the door and scrubs a hand over his brow. “My kid’s involved.”
I sigh and let my arms fall to my sides. “They were just playing. Being kids. Murphy wasn’t being bad or anything.” On instinct, I put a hand on his back, noting the tension in his muscles.
“No, Lola.” He spins around, out of my hold, and crosses his arms in a closed off gesture that looks so foreign on this always jovial man. “My kid is involved. He locked us in here. On purpose.”
My hand remains in midair, my heart aching. He’s never pulled away from me like that. “What?” I mumble.
“He locked us in here so we’d be stuck together. He knows I’m upset that you don’t want—” He ducks his head and gives it a shake. “That you don’t want what I want. What Murphy’s hoping for.”
“I-uh.” The ache in my chest morphs into a more acute pain. Because dammit, I want it too, but I can’t say that. There is too much at stake. So I look away and swallow back the words.
“Lola.” He grasps my hand, cradling it in both of his. His warmthrushes across my skin settling me. “I can’t let my kid get involved in this. Hecan’tget hurt.” With a sigh, he releases me and leans against the counter behind him, his focus fixed just past my shoulder. “So as much as I’d love to spend the rest of my life chasing you, if you don't really want to be with me, then it’s time we call this.”
And my heart has officially cracked in two. Everything is spinning out of control and I grasp at the only thing I do know for sure. “I don'tnotwant to be with you.”
He sucks in a breath, bringing his focus to my face, his expression a mixture of hope and doubt.
