Page 22 of Toxic

"His molars are coming in," I blurt out, unsure why Dante's able to calm my son when I'm not, but I'm grateful.

Dante arches his eyebrows. "What do you do for that?"

I shake my head, suddenly feeling super overwhelmed and like a bad mom. I admit, "Give him something cool for him to chew on, but I don't have anything." Tears bust out everywhere.

Dante's eyes widen. He scoots closer then repositions Sean so he's bouncing on his knee. "Okay. Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Lunch appointment. I should ask you that." He glances at my stomach.

I shrug. "I wanted apple pie."

He scans the table. "Did you already eat?"

I sniffle. "No. They haven't come back to take my order. I should go. This was a bad idea." I start to rise, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Sit down, Bridge. Hold on." He stands with Sean and motions for a server to come over.

A barely eighteen-year-old redhead eyes him over. "Hey. You need something?"

"A slice of apple pie."

"Ice cream, whip cream, or both?"

"Both and heated, right, Bridge?" he asks me.

I nod, surprised he remembers.

Dante gives her his million-dollar smile. "Make it two, and I need a glass of ice water right away."

She bats her eyes at him and leaves. Sean sniffles and whines, but it's lower than before.

Dante stares at me. "It's been a while since I've seen you. I didn't know you were in New York."

"I wanted to take one last trip before I had the baby."

He glances at my huge stomach. "When is she... he... due?"

I smile. "She's due in a few months. I'm seven months today."

Concern fills his face. "And you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Just super hormonal right now. Sorry about crying."

He chuckles. "No worries." He drags his finger down Sean's cheek, which stops his whines for a moment. "Did you come to New York on your own?"

I shake my head. "My dad and Sean are doing something work related."

"Ah. I see. And you braved this excursion all by yourself?"

"Stupid, wasn't it?" I confess.

"Depends how good the pie is," he replies.

A tiny laugh escapes me.

The server sets a glass of ice water down and says, "The pie will just be another minute."

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