Page 32 of Who's Your Daddy
Cal barks out a laugh. “Most people think they’re good luck.”
“Most people are stupid,” I mutter.
“I’ll keep you away from the maggots and the ladybugs.” He dips his chin, peering at his phone. “Later. When I get back, I’ll get you moved into the conference room with me.”
I grimace. Share the room with him? No, thank you. “I’ll move into the empty office.”
“I’ll move you into the conference room later.” He nods, ignoring me completely. “Right now, I need to go because it’s almost Murphy’s lunchtime.”
“Why?” I frown. “Did you forget to send a lunch?” Poor kid. Day one, and Dad forgot to pack food for him.
“I sent him lunch.” Cal scoffs. “Three options just in case.”
Tapping my fingers on the card table I study him, confused. “So then…”
“I need to make sure he has someone to sit with.”
I suck in a breath. Oh no. “You’re going to sit with him?” That’s just what every kid wants on their first day at a new school, their dad sitting at the lunch table. Even in first grade, it’ll make him a pariah.
“Of course not.” He gives me a look of disgust. “If I did that, kids would think he’s a weirdo, I’m just going to watch through the window.”
I close my eyes and rub at my temples, willing the impending migraine to abate.
In a Cal way, it makes sense.
With a cleansing breath, I zero in on him. “So you’re the weirdo, not Murphy.”
He frowns, as if he thinks I’m on the wrong side of this conversation. “Just for today. Tomorrow, I’ll drop him off, and I won’t leave work again until it’s time to pick him up. When you have a minute, will you take a look at my schedule and make sure that all my meetings and court appearances happen between ten thirty and two? Thanks.”
“What?” He’s got to be joking. Court closes from twelve thirty to two p.m. for lunch. He can’t expect every judge in our district to be amenable to working with him during those two hours a day only.
He lifts a shoulder, the movement easy. “I have to drop the kids off, so I can’t get here before ten thirty, and I have to leave by two p.m., otherwise I’ll be late picking them up.”
I can appreciate that he’s jumping into this parenting thing with both feet, but the man is an attorney. His work schedule cannot revolve around carpool. No, in this line of work, we’re all at the mercy of the courts and our firm’s clients.
It takes effort to keep my tone neutral. “The judges are not going to agree to this.”
“It’s for a child.”
That argument works in some actual cases, but this is a personal matter, not a legal one. “Yes, but this timeyouare the child. Your child is at school. They’re not going to deem it necessary.”
“You can do it. I believe in you.” His lips turn up in that damn charming smile.
I drop my gaze, focusing on the knot of his tie. There’s no way I’ll let that expression soften me. “Canandwillare not the same thing.” I cross my arms and risk looking up to glare. “I can’t work magic with the courts.”
Instead of backing down at my annoyance, his blue eyes brighten, and he blasts me with a full-on grin. “Come on, Lola.” He rocks onto his heels and dips his chin just a hair. “Be a team player.”
“I’m not on your team.” It’s a reminder to myself as much as him.
He pouts. “But I brought you coffee.”
Before I can respond Brian appears, head peeking out of his office door. “Minor issue.”
“Besides the maggots in the printer?”
Brian winces. “Well, there’s a silver lining here, I guess. I just called the exterminator again. There are several mice nests in the empty office.”
I groan. Of course there are. This place is the literal worst.
