Page 31 of Who's Your Daddy
Dammit. I need a better desk.
Before I can comment on it—before I can butter him up and talk him into ordering one for meright now—he spins around, backing up so his ass hits the table, and watches, wide-eyed as Madame Esmeralda steps through the door of Sully’s office.
“I think she pinched my arse.”
I chuckle. “You think?” If I’d been touched like that, I can’t imagine I wouldn’t know for sure.
He peaks over his shoulder at his own butt and then looks back at me, confusion swimming in his expression. “Maybe?”
The floor above us creaks again, cutting through the silence. I glance up, knowing no one is upstairs.
“Also,” Cal says, his tone serious. “I think we have a ghost.”
Sighing, I fall into my desk chair.
This is what life has come to, an eccentric ass grabbing seer, a maggot infested copier, and a boss who believes in ghosts.
Damn Terry and his big ideas.
“Oh, you know what?” Cal perks up, his face taking on its typical brightness. “I can fix this.” He slides a small paper bag my way, making the table wobble as he does. “One croissant from Stella’s and one iced coffee.”
Tipping the bag hesitantly, I peek in. Instantly,I’m assaulted by the delicious buttery scent of a croissant and the sharp, addicting aroma of espresso. “You…” I peer up at him. “You got me coffee?”
“Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.” The annoying line is in song form this time.
Normally, his typical response, the damn song lyrics, set my teeth on edge. Today, though, the words are softer. Like maybe he’s trying to be nice rather than irritating.
I work hard to fight the smile, but my lips tip up of their own accord. “Thanks.”
He rocks back on his heels. “It's only a block from the school.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “How did day one go?”
“Oh.” He ducks his head, and I swear his cheeks go pink. “I was so nervous I had to skip breakfast, but I think Murphy did okay. I got him a new backpack.” He slides his phone from his pocket, and with one swipe after another, he shows me about seventeen thousand pictures of Murphy from the moment he woke up until he’s stepping into the school building, nothing but his blue and silver backpack visible.
“Thanks so much,” Madame Esmeralda calls as she steps out of Sully’s office.
Not so casually, Cal shuffles back until he’s pressed up against the wall like he’s keeping his backside safe.
The ceiling creaks again, and I look up.
“Oh, don’t mind Sebastian.” Madame Esmeralda waves dismissively. “He’s very heavy-footed, you’ll get used to it.” She rushes to the door. “And don’t worry, Lo, the only other surprise today will be a ladybug.”
Fear grips my chest. “Wait! What? When?” I call out.
It’s too late. She’s gone.Pulse picking up, I survey the room, though I deliberately avoid looking at the copier.
Sully and Brian both promised the exterminator cleared the place of the beady-eyed red vermin. Though they did miss a thousand maggots in their inspection.
“Do you see any?”
“See what?” Cal asks.
“Ladybugs.” I practically shudder at the word.
“Oh no, but they’re so cute.” He steps away from the wall, face alight as he also scans the room. “I love them.”
“They’re awful. Those eyes? They’re always planning something. Beady little things. They poop on everything.Everything. Imagine walking around with lady bug poop on your hands, on your clothes. It will be everywhere just?—"
