Page 4 of Who's Your Daddy
Jaw locked, I slowly spin and face Brian.
“Ninety days,” he pleads, his hands pressed together in front of him.
Summoning all the patience I can find, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and give the boy a comforting smile.
He stares back at me blankly as I pull the note from around his neck.
Unfortunately, no amount of breathing could have prepared me for the words written on that page.
Chapter 2
Cal
Do I really want a blue slushie, or is it more of a raspberry afternoon?
It sort of feels like a blue day. Though I don’t know that I want to deal with an electric-blue stained tongue. Red’s a bit more natural. It might be the way to go since there’s a chance I’ll have to stop by Judge Espadrilles’ chambers today. She’s always gawking at my mouth. It won’t do me any good to give her more of a reason to stare.
I’d never go there, don’t worry. Even I have my limits.
“What do you think?” I ask the boy by my side.
Kid’s cute. Brown hair, blue eyes. Kind of looks like me when I was younger. He’ll go far in life.
The little guy stares up at me like he doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.
Oh. I chuckle to myself. Probably because I didn’t say the first half aloud. “Should I go for a blue slushie or a red slushie today?”
He blinks up at me, his long lashes fanning over his cheeks.
Lola squeaks, pulling my attention to where she’s looking at the note, eyes wide. Lola’s got the greenest of eyes. When she’s happy, they’re light like the color of a football pitch when it’s bathed insunlight. When she’s mad, like she so often is when I speak, they’re more of a deep emerald.
Right now, they are definitely gem colored.
She shakes her head, making her pretty thick red braid sway, and tosses the note onto Brian’s desk. “Ninety days,” she practically hisses as she turns to me and the little guy.
She’s glowering, like maybe she’s angry, but I can’t be certain, since that’s how she always looks at me. I’m not terribly worried. There’s a chance the expression is because, as it always is, her hair is secured in a braid, and the tightness of it pulls on her face.
Though when she looks down at the little boy, her expression softens, those green eyes warm and her lips tip up in a genuine smile. She’s brilliant with kids. Really fucking brilliant. Sometimes I wish I were a kid so she’d look at me like that.
“Want to come with me to get slushies?” she asks in a soft tone.
The boy reaches for her in the same way I want to, both arms outstretched. She takes one hand, and then they disappear.
“Don’t forget my blue slushie!” I holler after her, then think better of it. “Actually, a red one. And chips.” I watch the two of them disappear into the corridor.
Lola’s tiny, practically pocket-sized, which probably makes her seem more approachable to kids. Her shoulders are narrow, her waist is small, but she’s still got an hourglass figure that makes my mouth water even now when I know she’d murder me with a serrated knife if she caught me looking.
She never does though. Lola Caruso has no idea of my little obsession and I’d like to keep it that way.
On the other side of his desk, Brian clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. He’s blinking rapidly at the paper in front of him. He looks stressed. He could definitely use a pick-me-up.
“Get Brian an ice cream soda, too,” I call, gripping the doorframe and sticking my head into the hall. “But no whipped cream, he gets gassy.”
Even-keeled Brian makes a weird, strangled sound deep in his throat.
Stunned by the sound, I haul myself back and whip around. “Did you just growl at me?”
Brian does that blinking thing again. “Have you ever slept with a woman named Brandy?”
