Page 66 of Delicate Storm

“Please.” He hits me with a huge grin and it’s so adorable, I can’t say no.

“Okay. Let’s play the spinning game.”

“Yeah.” He jumps up and starts pulling at the coffee table, trying to move it on his own. “Dad.” Heave. “I.” Heave. “Help, please.”

With little effort, I shift the table behind the couch, giving us plenty of room to spin, and then it’s on. Arms linked, I spin Isaac around until his legs are flying through the air, his giggles drawing Mom’s attention.

“Hi, Mom.” I nod in her direction. “All good at your appointment today?” I ask, my vision blurring as the dizziness overwhelms me. “Hang on, Buddy. I need a quick break.”

I lower Isaac to the floor and he loses his balance. “Woah.” He spins on his own before flopping onto the couch.

Mom laughs as she joins us. “My appointment was fine. How was your day?”

“Uneventful.”

“That’s nice. Oh…we saw that girl from your work. The big boss’s daughter I think you called her.”

Paige. Goddammit. And I was doing so well. “Oh yeah? I’m surprised you remembered her.”

Mom laughs as she shakes her head. “I know I’m older than you but I’m not losing my memory yet.”

“Come on.” I roll my eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think you saw her.”

“I saw enough. Is she an artist?”

“Huh?”

“An artist. Is your boss’s daughter an artist?”

“How the hell would I know?” I only know she’s one hell of a model and a goddess with her m—

“No need to get all”—she looks at Isaac still rolling around on the couch—“grumpy about it.” I have no doubt that if we’d been alone, she would not have used the term grumpy.

“I’m not grumpy. I just don’t know her. At all.” That’s not a complete lie, so I don’t feel that bad about it.

“Next time I see her, I’m going to ask.”

“Ask what?”

“If she’s an artist. Jeez.”

“Come on, Mom. Don’t do that. Please leave her in peace.”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll make you look bad?”

“What?” My eyes widen of their own accord. “Why would I be worried about that?”

“Because of your big boss?” She raises an eyebrow as though she’s caught me doing something I shouldn’t be doing. But she’s fishing. She’s got nothing. Because there’s nothing to get. Paige and I are over. Done. Finito.

“He doesn’t even know who I am, Mom. But I’d prefer you left P— his daughter alone.”

“Okay.” She smiles to herself. “I will.”

Mom thankfully moves on to other topics, and after dinner, Isaac and I walk her to her car before I get him ready for bed.

Despite asking Isaac how his day was several times throughout the night, he only manages to remember after I’ve switched off the light, having convinced myself he was asleep.

“The girl was nice today,” he tells me as I’m closing the door.

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