Page 1 of Better Daddy
Chapter 1
Sloane
No, no, no. Not this one too.
I blow out a breath, sending the curly wisps from my fancy updo fluttering, and growl. I styled my hair this morning, and now I’m regretting my choice, wishing I’d pulled it back in a simple ponytail to keep it out of my face. Maybe then these stray hairs wouldn’t be sticking to my sweaty cheeks. Because yeah, now I’m sweaty on top of everything else.
Today, for the first time in seven long years, I’msupposedto be in court. For seven years I’ve been deprived of doing the one thing I love most about law. Arguing. God, I was good at it. For the last few years the only practice I’ve had arguing is with a pint-sized opponent.
We’ve argued over time limits on his tablet: he wanted seventeen hours; I gave him thirty minutes a night.
We’ve battled over sock colors: white seemed perfectly reasonable to me, but last week, bright blue was the only color he’d wear.
For years we’ve gone rounds when it comes to what he eats. Nothing but chicken nuggets, and only a certain brand. Oh, and slushies, thanks to his Uncle Cal. Maybe I should be annoyed by the slushy part, but honestly, a little variation, even if it’s one hundred percent processed sugar, feels like a win.
Yes, I celebrate the tiny wins against my six-year-old son. What mom doesn’t?
In the last seven years, I’ve also become really good at losing fights. Every single one of them with my ex. Though, can I really call him my ex if we’re still married?
If asked, he’d probably say I was the one picking the fights. He’d also swear I won the majority of them. Of course, he’d be wrong. No one wins in a marriage like ours. Where both people are miserable, barely talking to one another, and almost divorced.
But I’ve been working hard to start over. My life now is supposed to look different.I need it to be different.
“Julius, I need you,” I call from the bathroom suite. It’s possibly the fanciest one I’ve ever been in, and I’ve been in plenty over the years. Especially early on in my marriage, when I often traveled with Sully.
Sully, with his charming English accent, a smirk that, for years, he reserved only for me, and his expensive taste. He only ever wanted the best of the best, and his love for me made me feel as if I was the best. For a while, it was my reality. We werethecouple. The ones on Instagram who look like they have hot sex all the time and live amazing lives.
We did too. The sex was truly amazing. God, I miss sex.
I didn’t fake it for social media. Hell, I didn’t have social media. Our life really was perfect.
I glare down at the next test. “You will not be positive.” I twist both of my fingers, willing my wish to come true, then yell, “Julius.”
My overzealous and slightly sarcastic assistant peeks in, his brown eyes scouring the space like he’s worried he’ll find me standing naked in the freaking lounge.
“Get in here,” I hiss.
He steps in slowly, his shoulders practically at his ears. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Has Will left yet?”
My boss, and my former law school colleague, is a partner in this firm,his father’s firm,and he and I were supposed to be in court in—I glance down at my Movado watch—ten minutes ago.
Julius winces. “Yes, about thirty minutes ago.”
I sigh, my body slumping. This is my case, and I stayed up late to prep every night for the last week. I figured that explained the exhaustion. The dizziness this morning? My body’s reaction to missing dinner last night because I was too busy reading the wife’s deposition and the Bergen family’s best interest reports.
“Look at that and tell me what you see.” I point to the counter, then turn around and pace the luxury cushioned floor.
Is it heated? Is that why I’m drenched in sweat? I slip off a heel and plant a foot on it.Motherfucker. It is heated. I toss the other one off, accidentally sending it flying through the air. It hits the wall with a loud thud, then clatters to the floor.
There’s no point in wearing Louboutins when all I’m doing is occupying the women’s restroom at the firm. My celebratory heels mock me from where they’re tipped on their sides. Looks like it was premature of me to wear them before my first day back in court.
But they’re rose gold! How could I not buy the rose gold heels?
Julius steps up to the counter, his reflection clear in the gold-etched mirror, his eyes darting every which way. He’s probably worried that I was aiming for him when I kicked off the shoe.
“Stop being so dramatic and tell me what you see.”
