Page 42 of Better Daddy
It’s not enough to erase the pain he caused each and every time he forgot about me.
As impressed as I was by his calm attitude tonight, I can’t help but wish he’d thrown a fit. That he’d gotten angry about my “date.” Maybe growled that I was his wife again.
I snort at myself. Because if he’d done any of those things, I’d be complaining. Maybe I’m the problem here. Maybe I don’t trust that he’s really in this for me. I don’t want to be the kind of couple that stays together for the children. I want to be enough on my own. I want my husband to lose his mind over me. I want him to?—
“Damn. I thought Mommy looked good, but Daddy is lookingmightyfine,” Julius singsongs.
Like a record scratching, my heart stops the moment I spin and follow his gaze to the bar where I find the most unusual suspects.
Will andSully.
Sully, whom I left at home two hours ago.
Sully, who arranged for a car to bring me to the city.
Sully, who told me to have a great night.
Freaking Sully, who is wearing the hell out of a black suit with an emerald tie that, from here, looks like it matches my dress perfectly.
Lo.That tie has Lo written all over it.
Have my roommates been plotting to derail my night?
And what the hell is Sully doing talking to Will? HehatesWill.
When Will notices me watching, his eyes flare and he licks his lips.
“Shit.” I elbow Julius. “Pretend you’re my date.”
He grimaces. “What?”
I snap my fingers, struggling for words. “You. I need you to pretend you’re my date. I told Will I had one, assuming he’d think itwas Sully. And I let Sully believe I had one too. I figured he thought I was coming with Will. But I didn’t actually tell either who I was coming with. So if you are my date, then it’s not really a lie.”
He frowns like I’ve lost my damn mind. “Uh. That’s not how lies work. And you’re not really my type.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” I hiss as Sully holds up a hand to the bartender. “I don’t actually want to date you. I just want you to be my date.”
“I struggle to see the difference in those statements,” he muses as Will and Sully step away from the bar.
“You are a terrible wingman,” I whine, my armpits suddenly sweaty.
He huffs. “I’m not trying to be a wingman. I’m your assistant, remember.”
Shit. He’s right. This is completely unprofessional. “I’m sorry.” I hold up a hand. “I shouldn’t have propositioned you. I’m in a position of power over you, and it was?—”
He snorts. “I’m kidding. Would you stop it with the whole serious vibe right now?”
“I thoughtyouwere serious,” I screech.
The guys are headed our way, both looking at me.
I spin and focus on breathing evenly. Shit, Sully is totally going to know I fibbed about having a date. He’ll think I was trying to make him jealous.
I so wasn’t trying to make him jealous.
Oh god. Was I?
Here he is, doing exactly what I was just wishing he’d do, and my stomach is in knots because, oh my god, my husband is here to crash my date. “So will you play along or not?” I grit out from behind a fake smile.
