Page 6 of Single Dad Dilemma
“And yet you’re leaving mine there?” I asked incredulously.
Jill snorted. “You say that like I am capable of dragging those two back home. Mr. King, I appreciate that you give me that much credit. It’s been an enlightening month in your employment, and I don’t mean that as a compliment. If I were you, I’d think about finding a new job so you can deal with them yourself.”
And with that, she hung up.
I stared, slack jawed, at my suddenly black phone screen.
“What the hell?” I breathed.
The door to my office swung open, Bridget barging in with a furrow in her brow. “You’re not supposed to be here right now. Why aren’t you in your meeting?”
I held up my phone. “My children—”
“Are at the neighbors’,” she finished. “I know.”
Slowly, I leaned back in my chair and fixed her with an incredulous look. “And how do you know that?”
She merely smiled, pulling out her cell phone to reference something on the screen. “Maggie sent me a picture of a dog and said,Will you help me convince Dad that I need one?” I muttered something under my breath, but she ignored it and kept reading. “To which I replied, Maggie, darling, whose dog is that and whose living room are you in?”
I slicked my tongue over my teeth. “Keep going.”
“The house sitter issupercool, according to your offspring,” Bridget said. “Maggie met her in the backyard when they werehiding from that b-i-t-c-h Jill,” she read, glancing over the rim of her glasses to make sure she read it correctly. “And yes, she spelled it, because your daughter is nothing if not conscientious of following the house rules about swearing.”
With jerky movements, I shoved my laptop and my tablet into my bag. “Doesn’t follow any other rules, apparently.” I paused, glancing at the boxes of ornaments. “Why are theremultipleChristmas trees in my office?”
She folded her arms over her chest and quirked a brow. “To let everyone know that you’re full of Christmas cheer and not even remotely a grump.” She pursed her lips. “Jury is out on whether it’s working or not.”
I gave her a long look, and Bridget rolled her eyes.
I’d only met one other person in my life who dared to do that when I was in one of my moods—my twin brother. It wasn’t a talent specific to him; I was just as skilled in the reverse. There was a span of time when I was certain my brother disliked every single thing about me.
It didn’t feel quite like that anymore. We weretrying, for lack of a better term, after a solid decade where even that felt impossible. Being separated from your twin was weird.
There was always an awareness of him, a heaviness I’d never really been able to shake, and no matter how the press liked to pit us againsteach other—the Brain and the Brawn, the serious twin and the fun twin (no need to guess which one I was)—I still loved my brother. I worried about him.
Figuring out how to show it in a way that didn’t feel like I was trying to tell him what to do had eluded me thus far, something I seemed to be carrying over into my parenting skills, apparently, judging by how often my children acted out.
They’d all probably call me a Grinch, say that my heart was two sizes too small—and that was on a good day.
My kids did love me, but I worked so damn much they felt ignored, and I couldn’t even blame them.
A headache bloomed at my temples, and I rubbed the back of my neck. My heart wasn’t too small, but it did feel like it was stretched so thin that it was close to snapping around inside my chest if pulled any tighter.
With a heavy sigh, I closed the bag and slung the strap over my shoulder. “If you could please ask Mike to handle the two meetings on my schedule after dinner, I’ll finish watching film at home and connect with him there, if you don’t mind setting up a virtual meeting room for the next few hours.”
“You got it, boss.” She paused after she cleared the door, her red braid swinging over her shoulder as she poked her head back into my office. “Thank you for the Christmas bonus, by the way. Someone was in a generous mood when they wrote out the checks. The other assistants started crying when they opened theirs.”
I grunted. “Your wife told me you don’t take enough trips, so I figured if I pay for it, you might actually go.”
“True,” she mused. “Now I’m going to be stuck on a beach somewhere after the season is done, with a horrible fruity drink in my hand, and Janie will be reading her fairy-smut books while I beg to go do something active.”
I gave her a serious nod. “Sounds miserable.”
“Indeed.” She tapped the doorframe. “Pearl wants a quick meeting in the next few days if you can manage it.”
“Pretty sure I pay you to decide those things for me.”
She smiled smoothly. “You don’t really have the option to say no to her.”
