Page 29 of Better Daddy
“How was?—”
“Can I turn on the music?” I say, inadvertently cutting him off.
He clears his throat and nods. “Sure, put on whatever you want.”
I wince, kicking myself for interrupting him. “You were going to ask a question.”
“I was just making conversation. Thought I’d ask how your day was. That kind of thing.” He blows out a breath, keeping his focus on the road. “Music is probably better, though.”
“Right.” I nod woodenly. Dammit. When did we become a pair of robots who don’t know how to make conversation? Rather than turn the music on, though, I take a steadying breath and say, “My day was fine. Did the school call you too?”
He glances my way, his forehead creased. “Call me for what? Is T.J. okay?”
His response melts the ice around my heart further. Because while our hellion of a child is more likely to be in trouble at school than hurt, Sully’s first instinct is to check on his well-being.
T.J. is always getting into mischief, and we’re always getting callsfrom the principal. I am, at least. Maybe they don’t call Sully as well. Maybe I should be relaying these incidents to him so he’s in the know. “He’s fine. Luckily, the fire department was already at the school doing a demonstration?—”
“Oh fuck,” Sully mutters, tipping his head back.
I snort. “Yeah, T.J. climbed up the side of the building and then refused to get down.”
The corner of his lips twitch. “He does hate heights.”
I let out a breath of a laugh. “Yup. The lovely men of the NYFD had to get him down. I stopped by, got a talking-to from the principal, and promised we’d deal with it tonight.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he says with a sigh.
My heart clenches at the pain in his tone. “You don’t have to.”
Sully hates being the bad guy. He gets so little time with T.J., so I get it. Though I suppose that’s changed now that I’ve moved in.
Hands at ten and two, he sits straighter, his attention still on the road. “I will. You dealt with the principal. Seems only fair I deal with the discipline.”
“You won’t yell at him, right?”
I’m more sensitive to yelling than most, I think. It seems strange for an attorney, but my whole childhood, my parents functioned in one of two modes: anger or indifference. Long before T.J. was even a possibility, I made a vow not to raise my child that way. Yes, T.J. needs discipline, but parenting is like walking a tightrope. It’s ensuring I don’t take my anger out on him while also holding him accountable. And it’s only made more difficult when one’s child would be considered naughty by some standards and high needs by professionals.
Without turning, Sully eyes me, offering me a small smile. “I promise I won’t raise my voice.”
With a sigh, I settle back in my seat, and as silence descends, Sully hits the button for the radio. When “Wild Thing” by the Troggs filters through the speakers, I have to hold back a smile. Attimes, I may feel like I don’t know this man anymore, but at least his taste in music hasn’t changed.
When a commercial comes on, I turn the volume down. “How was your day?”
His eyes widen, like my question surprises him. “It was fine.” Then he shakes his head. “Actually, it was awful.”
I cough out a laugh. “Really? Not loving your new office?”
He rolls his eyes, though he’s smirking. “What is there to love?”
“You’ve got a psychic, a ghost, and a magical closet.” I shift in my seat so I’m facing him. “Sounds a lot more exciting than New York.”
Sully nods. “At least Amy didn’t mail any motions to the deli this week.”
“Amy?” It’s embarrassing the way my tone rises a full octave. Last year, he had an intern who seemed a bit too comfortable with him. She was everywhere. I didn’t work in the office too often, mostly I drafted the trusts or wills from home, but every time I came in to meet with a client, there she was. Young and perky and beautiful and far too familiar with my husband. But she was in New York. Only Lo works in the Jersey office.
Unaware of my inner turmoil, Sully continues. “Yeah, you remember her. She’s in her third year of law school, so she’s interning for us again.”
“In New Jersey?” This time I couldn’t hide my annoyance if I tried.
