Page 44 of Better Daddy
So I give her a small smile and take half a step back. “I’d better go. I’m sitting with Judge Masters.” I tip my chin to the far side of the room. “Enjoy the night and save me a dance.” Angling in, I press my lips to her cheek. The hitch in her breath will haunt me for the next two hours.
Though nothing haunts me quite as painfully as Will’s flirting does. All night, he works hard for her attention. He sits beside her, his arm on the back of her chair, a sleazy grin on his lips.
Instead, I try to focus on the conversations happening around me. On the music. On the food. Every year, Higgins, Smith, and Dodge throws an elaborate themed party, and this year’s is just as extravagant. The entire floor looks like it’s been transported to nineteenth-century London. The walls of the large ballroom are decorated to look like 1800s storefronts and homes. Just outside the double doors are cobblestone streets, complete with carolers and live horses. There are at least twenty lit Christmas trees and even gas streetlights set up between building façades.
The cost of this kind of party is staggering, and they’re not the only firm in town vying for the best holiday event.
My father never saw fit to waste resources on such frivolity, instead giving his employees large holiday bonuses and making charitable donations.
It’s a tradition Brian, Cal, and I have continued.
Despite my efforts to distract myself, I once again end up zeroed in on the meaty paw of the man who’s now touching my wife’s hair. It takes all my willpower to stay in my seat when my insides are roiling, telling me to stomp over there and break Will’s arm.
“What do you think about the proposed law changes?”
At the sound of Judge Masters’s voice, I inhale deeply and force my attention to her.
“Bloody ridiculous to say the court can’t order reconciliation therapy between a parent and a child,” I grumble.
Although the proposed law is utter rubbish, my mood has more to do with Will’s proximity to Sloane than anything related to work.
“The AAML needs to do something about it.” The man across from me postures. The American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers has had an email chain going for days, with dozens of attorneys ranting about the law. Unfortunately, more than one senator has backed it.
“I don’t know. It seems to be getting legs.”
Davis leans my way. “Couldn’t you put some pressure on the New York bar? You’ve got clout.”
I frown at him. “I work in New Jersey now.”
He winces, like he expects me to be upset by the reminder.
I’m not. At first, I was sure Jersey would be a nightmare. And yeah, maybe it was for a couple of weeks. Now, I like being stuck in a single room with my son and Sloane. The rest of our flat is so small and crowded that it’s hard to find even a moment alone. It’s a huge change from the way we rambled around our penthouse in the city. But shockingly, we all seem to be happier.
And at this exact moment, I’d give just about anything to be locked in that shitty room with my family.
Without my permission, my focus drifts back to Sloane, who is leaning so far away from her dickhead of a boss she’s practically in her assistant’s lap.
As if he can feel my glare, Julius turns and locks eyes with me. He arches a brow, and I swear I can hear the mocking words he wants to say.What are you going to do about this, baby daddy?
I’ll show him exactly what I intend to do.
“Excuse me.” Without waiting for a response from my tablemates, I stand and stroll to the bar.
When she was pregnant with T.J., my wife had a favorite mocktail. I might not know whether she’ll crave the orange juice, cranberry, and soda like she did then, but at least she’ll know I remembered.
With the drink in hand, I wander to Higgins’s table.
I come up behind them, causing Will to drop his arm so he can crane his neck.
His face falls when he sees me. I get it. I don’t want him near her either. But he can piss off. I’m done watching him flirt with my wife.
Especially because while he’s been all over her, he’s oblivious to her body language and has yet to notice that she finished her drink at least a half hour ago.
The wanker isn’t even a good date. Probably shitty in bed too.
My jaw locks at that thought. He will never touch my wife.
“Sloane.” I step into the small space between them. She looks up at me, and her eyes brighten at the sight of the drink in my hand. “For you.” I hold the stemmed glass, and when our fingers brush, a thrill shoots through me.
