Page 30 of Who's Your Daddy
I don’t stop. I can’t. My mind has been overtaken by visions of the creepy-crawlies wriggling along my skin. Half falling, half climbing, I jump onto the box, then clamber onto the card table. My violent movements are a bit too much, sending me sliding off the other edge into a heap on the dingy gold carpet.
“Shit shit shit.” I chant.
God knows what I’ll find down here but standing up means having to look at the copier again. Neither are great options.
“Lola?”
I leap to my feet, determined to get off what could be bug-infested carpet while turning to keep my gaze from landing on the behemoth of a machine across the room. As I stand, I stumble again, slamming into a hard body.
“Whoa.” Cal catches my arm gently. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t stop moving. Not until I skirt him so he’s standing between me and the copier. “The things in the thing. And uck,” I stammer, body trembling, arms waving.
Another shudder hits me. Shit. What if I left the lid open? They’re probably squirming out and heading for me.
“What?”
“It's infested.” I back up again, but he stops me with that gentle hand on my arm.
He ducks his head, catching my gaze, calming me a fraction. With a concerned once-over, he releases me and turns to the copier.
Before he can take a step, I grab his hand. “Don’t let them escape. We don’t want maggots.”
“Maggots?” Cal’s lips pull into a line. An expression that might be disbelief. Though there’s an equal chance he’s fighting a laugh. “Lola maggots don’t live in photocopiers.”
“Uh, I beg to differ.” I point to the dinosaur. “There are thousands in that thing.”
Cal yanks out of my grasp and moves to the machine.
No. No, no, no. I should stop him, but I refuse to go near it again.
He lifts the lid, and with a yelp, he jumps back. “Bloody hell.”
“I told you.”
The door jingles open behind us.
Shit. I whip my head around, praying it’s not a client. We can’t let them see the maggots.
Who would hire an attorney who has a lifetime supply of decomposers hiding in their office?
Actually…They might come in handy for a criminal attorney.
“Too late, I see.” Madame Esmeralda shakes her head, not the least bit surprised or confused by our terror.“I warned you about the lid.”
I’m still trying to suck in a lungful of air as I gape at her. What?
“I told you last week about lifting lids.”
“Oh.” She did.
“You are eerily accurate.” Cal, who scurried away from the bugs, though kept himself between them and me, is staring at the snake ring on her pinkie almost like the deep green gems in its eye sockets are hypnotizing him.
Wonder where she got it. Amazon? I should look. Maybe I could use my own to keep him in line.
“Your father said the same thing. Now, where is that brother of yours? I need to sign some papers for my place apparently.”
Cal tips his head toward Sully’s office and Madame Esmeralda floats across the room. As she passes us, Cal suddenly jerks forward crashing into my card table and sending two stacks of papers onto the floor.
