Page 23 of Single Dad Dilemma
“Did I have a choice?” I asked dryly.
“Of course. If you’d said no, we would’ve asked someone else. But like it or not, you’ve got a daughter who’s so great at this, she can’t seem to help herself.”
“And if I change my mind now?”
She arched a silver eyebrow. “Too late for that, King. Now your choice is gone.”
My entire life seemed to be comprised of women meant to humble me, and I tried not to think about what universal meaning I was supposed to glean from this. Bridget was no help; she watched the exchanges with the bright glint of humor in her eyes, no doubt recalling every minute detail so she could go home and tell Janie the best part of her entire day.
“When would you like to do this, Wren?” I asked. “I need to coordinate with my parents since they’ll be watching the kids.”
“I thought Bridget was doing that?” Pearl asked.
Bridget shook her head. “Oh no, he has a neighbor who’s helping until his parents get here.”
“Ah.”
“She hates him. Like,a lot. But still she’s helping.”
I gave Bridget a quelling look, but she ignored it.
Pearl glanced between us. “Why does she hate you?”
“Whydoesn’tshe hate me might be a better question,” I answered, exhaustion pulling at my frame. “My very presence seems to offend her.”
Pearl sighed. “I know a few men like that.”
I cut her a questioning look.
“Not you, Mr. King.” She adjusted the diamond pendant around her throat. “If you made me want to claw my skin off because you breathed too loudly, I’d have fired you already.”
“Good to know.”
Bridget slapped a hand over her mouth to stem the laughter.
Wren stood, stacking her folders into a neat pile, then tucking them beneath her arm. “I’ll email you some dates, Coach.”
I rubbed my hand over my jaw. “Thank you, Wren.”
Just as she turned to leave the conference room, the door flew open and six feet four inches of quarterback barreled her over. Wren shrieked, papers went flying, and Archer’s arms darted out to keep her from toppling onto the floor.
“Oh fuck, sorry—wasn’t watching where I was going.” He set her back to see if she was okay.
Wren’s cheeks were pink, and she ripped her arms away from Archer’s grasp. “It’s fine.”
He scratched the side of his neck; then Pearl stood up and smacked him on the back of his head. “Help her pick up the papers,” she snapped.
Archer was a bit too slow to move, and Pearl muttered something about idiotic young men, giving him a steely-eyed glare. “Wren, come see me tomorrow morning. I’ve got some other ideas,” she called, just before stalking out of the room.
“Okay, Pearl.”
“You call herPearl?” Archer asked. “Aren’t you scared?”
Wren barely stifled a sigh. “No.”
He picked up a single sheet of paper and held it out to her. She didn’t meet his eyes, but her lips were set in a firm line as she snatched it out of his grasp.
I’d already come around the table, joining Bridget to help gather the remaining pieces on the floor. I handed Wren the folder once we had them gathered, and she gave me a tiny smile.
