Page 86 of Who's Your Daddy
Chapter 29
Cal
At eight fifteen, I slip into one of the two chairs at the table in the corner of Bern Steakhouse. I’m early for our date—as every man should be—and armed with an oversized bouquet that I’ve laid on Lola’s seat.
“Would you say this is a well-lit dimness?”
The server frowns up at the light hanging over the table. “Um, sure.”
I nod. Though I don’t know that dimness is the right word for this lighting, I do think it’s the perfect balance of light to dark.
Lola’s pretty face will be easy to see, yet the lighting won’t be harsh enough to cause a headache. The candle on the center of the table adds a nice touch too.
It’s mine. A new acquisition, picked up specifically for tonight. It’s battery operated so it’s not a violation of code or anything. The waitress did seem a bit thrown when I asked that she remove the centerpiece to make room for it, though. It was a simple daisy. As if that would be enough to impress my Lola.
According to the images I found of Rare on 22nd, their tables are equipped with baskets of gluten-free bread and candles.And whatever Lola wants…
“You’re sure this bread is gluten-free?”
“Absolutely,” the young woman says. Her tone is a little short, though she’s still wearing a smile. She’s in her early twenties, meaning she’s got enough life experience to know that food allergies are serious, though she’s young enough that there’s a chance she doesn’t care. That she’s only here to earn money for a night out with friends.
Hm. Can I trust this twenty-something to be adequately concerned about Lola’s gluten allergy?
No. I really can’t.
“You take a bite then.” I lift the basket, shooting her the most serious expression I can muster.
Frowning, she takes half a step back. “But I don’t have a gluten allergy.”
“Even better,” I counter.
“Leave the poor girl alone,” a familiar voice says.
A voice far too deep to be Lola’s.
Brian steps out from behind the young woman, his auburn hair almost brown in the restaurant’s lighting. My brother’s right behind him. Both are still dressed in the suits they were wearing at work.
My heart lurches, and I clutch the edge of the table. “Who’s with Murphy?” I picked him up like I always do, but left work at five so I could prepare for this date. They promised they’d take care of him.
We had a plan. They’re mucking up my plan.
And where the hell is my kid?
They eye one another silently, then turn matching frowns on me. “With Lola, like you planned.”
“No.” My heart hammers in my chest. “I made no such plan.”
“Then why would she tell us we had a business meeting with you tonight?” Brian clears his throat. “She said, verbatim, ‘I’m watching Murphy. Don’t be late.’”
He gives me a nonplussed look. One that means he thinks I’m being ridiculous.
Onlyhe’sthe ridiculous one. I am not ridiculous.
“Why would she say that when I specifically invitedheron this dinner date?”
Brian’s eyes widen. Sully’s do too, a second later.
Bollocks. Shit, shit, shit. I backpedal. “I-I mean dinner meeting,” I stammer. “A work meeting. Lots of work to be done.” I nod succinctly to emphasize my point. “Forget it.” I push back from my chair and drop my napkin on the table. “You two enjoy dinner. I’m going home.”
