Page 32 of Single Dad Dilemma
He was still facing the den, and the only sign he’d even heard me, that my words had registered at all, was the way his hand tightened into a fist at his side. I couldn’t help it; it made me smile.
“Barrett?”
His head turned but he kept his body facing away. The harsh lines of his profile would photograph like a fucking dream. But that was neither here nor there.
“You’d be so much prettier if you smiled more,” I said silkily.
He let out an incredulous huff, big body finally turning in my direction. “Excuse me?”
Putting on my coat felt like draping a wet towel over my shoulders, but I kept my face even, pulling my hair out from underneath the collar. “What? You don’t like it when people say that to you? Weird. Iloveit.”
An almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes was the only reaction I got. After I turned around to slip my shoes on, I let out a low, controlled breath. Probably not smart to poke the bear, but he was so fuckingpokeable.
“Have a good night, sunshine,” I said, then let myself out the door without waiting for a reply.
Chapter Eight
Barrett
An alert went off on my phone. Again.
I jammed the button to turn it off and swore under my breath.
“Bridget,” I barked.
She popped her head into my office. “I just love when you ask for me in such a nice, friendly tone,” she said, raising her eyebrow meaningfully.
I set my hands on my hips and let out a deep breath. “Bridget,” I said more calmly, “thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to come into my office.”
“You’re very welcome. How can I help you?”
Then she smiled, a placid smile so full of shit that I worked my jaw back and forth before speaking again.
“Why is my phone alert going off every fifteen minutes?”
“So you don’t forget Maggie’s Christmas concert,” she explained, slowing her speech and over-enunciating the words. “That’s why the alert saysMaggie’s Christmas Concert.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Right. I didn’t really ... look at the screen, I just wanted it to stop making noise. I haven’t slept well the last couple nights, and I’m a tad irritable.”
The small humming noise she let out could’ve been one of sympathy and understanding, but coming from her, it had more of anI don’t give a shittone to it. “Concert is at seven. Once your next meeting is done, you have time to grab a quick dinner with your coordinators and then an hour to review film. You have to be out the door by 6:20 in order to make it to the school on time.”
My brows furrowed. “Who’s bringing her to school?”
“Daisy’s mom. She’s picking her up at the house at 6:15—and yes, Lily knows.”
“You’re texting with her too?” I gave Bridget an incredulous look. “How did you get her number?”
“It is wild that you’re still underestimating me after six years of running your life,” she said, walking into my office to slap a folder on my desk.
“I really shouldn’t,” I sighed. “Before, it felt more ... normal, I guess. You always coordinated with Rachel.”
At the sound of my ex’s name, Bridget scrunched up her face like she smelled something rancid. “And what a pleasant experience that was. I can honestly say I’d never been happier to see paperwork in my life than when you signed those divorce papers.”
I grunted, tapping the screen of my computer to life. “What’s next?”
She glanced at her watch. “Archer should be here any minute so you can talk about the game on Sunday.”
“Should be a fun one,” I muttered.
