“God,” he groans. “Don’t you know anything?” he says. “The minute they think you’re playing hard to get, the stakes go higher. It’s like who is going to break him down. Women are fucking ruthless.”
“This all makes sense now,” I tell him. “Last time I was there, Susan asked me if I wanted to go couch shopping with her.”
“Anyway, what if she thinks you’re gay?” he asks me. “What if you put out the wrong message with the whole I haven’t dated in seven years?”
I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but what if I did put that out there, and she thinks I am gay now? “I was trying to tell her that I didn’t want anyone else.”
“Well, what if it came across as your vagina broke my dick, and now I don’t like vaginas anymore?” he says, and I put my head back on the couch and close my eyes.
“How did you ever get Mona to go out with you, let alone marry you?” I ask him.
“It’s my charm,” he says and then laughs. “That and I begged and pleaded for her to give me a chance.”
I laugh out loud. “That sounds more like it.”
“So what’s the story? Do you still want her?” he asks the million-dollar question. A question I am not ready to answer myself.
“If I thought she was beautiful before, I was wrong,” I tell him honestly.
“Then you know what you gotta do,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say, “and what is that?”
“You need to tempt your hookup or baby mama.” He laughs. “Tempt her so hard she won’t want to look elsewhere.”
I rub my face. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You need to woo her,” he says. “Show her that you’re a good catch.”
“I am a good catch,” I counter at him.
“I know that, and you know that, but she doesn’t,” he tells me. “All she really knows is that you spent four days banging her.” I sit up now, all the ideas rushing to me at once. “We have to start at square one.”
“Yes,” I agree. “But what is square one?” I ask him.
“Show her you’re interested,” he says, and I hear him snapping his fingers as he comes up with stuff. “Tell her she looks pretty. Tell her you like the way her hair bounces.”
“Her hair bounces?” I ask him.
“Women love that shit,” he says, and I hear him snap his fingers again. “Oh, oh, and her smell. Tell her she smells good.”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure about this.”
“Trust me. It’s going to work,” he says, and I hang up, tossing my phone to the side. I get back to work and finally fall into bed close to midnight.
The next day when I’m slipping on my gray suit jacket, Eliahn texts.
Eli: He’s ready and by the door. Warning: he is super excited.
I smile and then text her back
Me: On my way!
Slipping the phone in my pocket, I grab my briefcase and drop it in the car before walking over to Eliahn’s house. I don’t even have to ring the doorbell before Aiden swings the door open and comes bouncing out in blue pants and a white oxford top with a blue jacket. His backpack is on his back.
“Daddy, you’re late,” he says, smiling up at me, and I bend to kiss his cheek. Every single time he calls me daddy, I have this sense of pride that takes over me, and I swear I would give him anything he asks for.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask him, and he nods his head. I look up, and I see Eliahn walking toward us, and I swear I sigh. If Nick was here, he would smack me upside the head. She’s wearing black pants that are tight and a white top with a necklace. She slips on her light pink jacket when she comes to the door and smiles at me.
“He’s been up since six,” she tells me. “He should be ready for bed at seven tonight.” She smiles and then squats down in front of him. “Have a great day, mon amour,” My love, she calls him, then stands up and picks up a beige legal envelope.
“I filled out all my info, and they are just missing yours.” I nod at her, grabbing the envelope from her. I want to go over and tell her to have a great first day at work, but I also want to do it with my hands buried in her hair and with her naked.
“I’ll fill it out before I drop him off.” I nod at her. “You look pretty,” I say, and the minute the words come out of my mouth, I want to take them back because she doesn’t just look pretty she looks beautiful, breathtaking even.
She smiles at me and then looks down. “First day on the job, so I want to make a good impression.” She tucks her blond hair behind her ear. I wonder if she still shivers when you bite down on her lobe and then suck it.
“Shall we go?” I ask Aiden, then look back up at Eliahn “He ate, right?”
“Yes, he had eggs, bacon, and toast,” she says, smiling at him. “And he ate it all.”
“Perfect,” I say, reaching out my hand for him. “Let’s get you to school. We don’t want you being late on your first day of school.” He grabs my hand, walking over to my car. I buckle him in and start the car.
“Are you excited?” I ask him when we finally take off, looking at him in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, I’m going to play soccer at recess,” he says, nodding his head while looking out the window. “I run fast.”
“Do you?” I ask him. “Did you play soccer in Paris?” I ask him.
“Yeah, all the time,” he says, nodding his head.
“Who did you play with?” I ask him, and then I don’t give him a chance to answer. “Did any of Mommy’s friends teach you?” I close my eyes, not even sure I can stomach myself. I’m using my six-year-old to get info on his mother. Low. So low.
“Sometimes, Pierre came with me,” he answers me, and I cringe at the name.
“Did Pierre and Mommy make dinner together?” I ask him, and he nods his head. “Asshole,” I murmur under my breath when we get to the school.
I park in one of the parking spaces, getting out and seeing a woman directing traffic. “Drop-off zones should be used for drop-off only,” she tells the mother who is getting out of the car with a tray of cupcakes.
“I just have to drop this off. It will be two seconds,” she starts pleading her case. “Debra did it yesterday,” she says, and the woman shakes her head. “Amy, you need to move your car.”
We walk past them, Aiden’s hand in mine. “Cutthroat,” I say under my breath and walk up the steps going into the school. Kids are running in the hall all over the place as the bell rings once, and then the kids sort of rush even more. When we make it to the office, I walk in and smile at Mrs. Hope.
“Good morning.” I smile at her as she comes to the counter and smiles at us.
“Good morning, Mr. DiMarco, Aiden,” she says to us, and then Mrs. Lambert comes out of her office with her megawatt smile.
“Well, good morning, you two,” she says softly. “Mrs. Hope, why don’t you get Aiden to class, and I’ll finish with Mr. DiMarco?” she says, and Mrs. Hope just smiles and nods her head, walking around the counter to come to Aiden’s side.
I squat down in front of him. “You’re going to go with Mrs. Hope,” I tell him, and he looks at me with his brown eyes a little worried.
He leans in. “What if I don’t have any friends?” he says, and I lean in, whispering in his ear.
“You’re the coolest kid I know. Everyone is going to want to be your friend.” He throws his arms around my neck, squeezing, and I hug him with one arm. “I’ll see you tonight,” I tell him, and he nods his head and takes Mrs. Hope’s hand. She looks at me as I blink away tears. Fuck, this is brutal. I put my hand to my heart and watch him walk away, his backpack bigger than him.
“He’s going to be fine,” Mrs. Lambert reassures me, putting her hand on my arm and squeezes it as I look down at it and want to shake it off.
“I know exactly who to introduce you to,” Mrs. Hope tells him and walks out of the room.
“Eliahn gave me the papers to drop off to you,” I tell her, stepping out of her grasp. “I just have to fi
ll out my part.” I go to the counter, picking up the pen that lies there next to a book. Opening the envelope, I grab the papers inside and bring them out, seeing little tabs where I need to sign and put in my information.
“So you and Ms. Coco are divorced?” she asks me, and I don’t look up.
“No,” I answer her, and I’m not lying.
“Oh,” she says softly. “I just assumed since Aiden has Ms. Coco’s last name,” she starts, and I don’t bother answering her. I just finish filling out my part.
“That should do it,” I say, handing it over to her. “If there is anything that is missing, just have Mrs. Hope call me.”
“I will.” She smiles at me. “I’ll call you today also just to touch base and let you know how he’s doing.”
“That would be great. You can call Eliahn. I know that she will be on pins and needles all day, and she’ll call me.” I nod at her, then turn and walk out of the office, feeling like a piece of meat.
Getting into the car, I call Eliahn who I know is probably a nervous wreck. “Hello,” she answers right away, and I hear that she is in the car.
“How did it go?”
“I almost cried,” I tell her, shamelessly, and she chuckles.
“I always cry on the first day, especially when he looks at you and almost pouts. You should have seen pre school drop off.”
“Yeah, well, a little warning next time,” I tell her, laughing. “He went with Mrs. Hope, and I gave all the papers to Mrs. Lambert. She is going to call you today to touch base and let you know how his day is going. Can you call and let me know? If I don’t answer, you can text me or leave a message with Lauren. She usually has my cell phone when I’m in court.”
“Of course,” she says. “I just got to work.”
“Have a great day,” I tell her, and she disconnects. When I walk into the office twenty minutes later carrying two Starbucks coffees, I walk smack into Noah, who is grinning like a fool.
“What’s up with you?” I ask him. “You look like you caught the mouse.”
“Word on the street is that someone knocked up Ms. Coco and left her for six years,” he says, shaking his head. “And the word on the street is that it’s none other than straitlaced Luca DiMarco.”
I walk to my office, handing Lauren her chai latte who smiles at me “Thank you. Hello, Noah.” He nods at her and follows me into my office.
“Well,” I tell him, putting the coffee down on my desk and looking over at him while he throws himself on the couch. “Word on the street is incorrect.”
“What’s the incorrect part?” he asks, smiling.
“Well, to start, I didn’t leave her.” I lean back on my desk and cross my hands over my chest. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
“Savage,” he says, and I look at him. “Why does your face look shiny like it’s glowing?” I ask him.
“It’s this new cream that I’m wearing. It’s so good,” he says, and I squint at him. “Lauren!” he yells toward the hallway, and she comes in. “What’s the face cream you gave Kaleigh to try?”
“Did you try it?” she asks him. “It’s for women.”
“Don’t care.” Noah shrugs. “Look at my face, I look ten years younger.”
“Your face is shining.” She laughs. “I think you have oily skin.”
“I do not have oily skin,” he fights back at her, and she just laughs.
“Anyway, I’ll give you some cream. You should try it. You’ll look younger.”
“I am younger,” I remind him, while Lauren laughs. “This has been fun, but I need to start my day,” I tell them, and he gets up to leave.
“All kidding aside, I can’t wait to meet him,” he tells me, and I smile as he walks out of the room.
I look at Lauren. “I owe you a raise. I honestly don’t know how you did it, but that bedroom killed it.”
She shrugs. “I’m resourceful,” she tells me, and I have no doubt. When she first started working for me, she had one rule and one rule only. Don’t fuck with her Post-its. I won’t even touch her desk for fear of what she might do to me. I heard stories about when she first started working for her husband, and I do not want to end up like that.
“Let’s get to work,” I tell her, and she starts telling me everything that I have to do today. I shrug my jacket off and roll up my sleeves, gearing up for the day. I work until I look up at my cell phone when it rings at one thirty, showing me it’s Eliahn.
“Hello,” I answer right away.
“Hey.” Her voice comes out light and fresh. “Mrs. Lambert just called me.”
“Is he okay?” I don’t let her answer. “Does he have friends?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. According to her, he’s adjusting really well,” she tells me, and I lean back in my chair.
“That’s a relief. How is your day going?” I ask her.
“Great,” she answers. “It’s fun being in the office. The team looks like it’ll be fun.”
“That’s great,” I tell her, smiling. “What are you two doing for dinner?”
“We are going to my parents’, and then my father wants to take Aiden to the park and kick around the soccer ball,” she tells me.
“What time do you think you’ll be back?” I ask her, and I’m not sure that I’m upset that I won’t see them or bothered that I was the one who wanted to take Aiden to the park.
“I’ll try to be home by seven so you can have some time with him,” she tells me.
I smile. “Thank you. Come on over as soon as you get home.”
“Will do,” she says, and I hang up just as Lauren arrives with my lunch and places it on my desk. I thank her and continue writing my brief for court tomorrow.
“Hey.” I look up, seeing Noah at my door, and he comes in, handing me something. “Here is the cream. Honestly, I wonder if Lauren is right; maybe I do have an oily face.”
I drop my pen on the desk and cross my hands on my desk. “Who fucking cares?” I tell him. “Honestly, you have a wife who loves you, and a kid who thinks you hang the moon.”
He shrugs and puts his hands out. “Just do me the favor please.”
I shake my head. “Fine. I’ll do it tonight before Aiden comes over.”
“I owe you one,” he says, walking out, and I look down and see it’s almost five. I grab my stuff, packing everything up and walking out. Lauren is already gone since she has strict hours of eight to three. Just to pick up the baby and her kids.
Walking into my house, I toss my keys on the desk in my office and place my bag on the desk, then walk upstairs to change out of my suit. Coming back downstairs, I grab a protein bar and walk back to work in my office. My phone beeps at six thirty. I close everything up and walk upstairs to put on the face cream for Noah. I send Noah a picture of myself putting the cream on, and he sends me back a thumbs-up.
I finish rubbing it in and then go downstairs to prepare myself something to eat. I pop one of those meals that I have delivered three times a week into the microwave and wait for the beep.
My face is tingling a bit, and I scrunch up my nose. Grabbing my container of food, I eat standing up, and this time, my eye starts twitching. I blink it a couple of times, rubbing my eye with the back of my hand.
I continue eating, trying to ignore the tightness in my face, and then my lips start tingling, so I roll them. They feel like they are swollen a little. I don’t even finish my pasta before my eye that started to twitch gets blurry.
I grab my phone and text Noah.
Me: Did your face get tingly when you put this cream on?
He doesn’t answer, and my eye starts to feel tight as does my lips, but now it’s only my top one. I go to the bathroom, and I shriek. My eye that is twitching is almost closed shut it’s so swollen, and my lip looks like I had five pounds of lip injections; it overlaps the bottom lip.
“Holy shit.” I touch my lips, and now it looks like a fucking duck.
I grab my phone and call Nick, who answers right
away.
“Where are you?” I ask him, and my lip starts to sting again, and my right eyelid now feels heavy. I look in the mirror and see that it’s almost closed.
“I’m home,” he says, and I press the FaceTime button. He accepts the invitation, and his face fills the screen.
He gasps when he sees me, his hand going to his mouth. “Dude, your face. It’s lopsided,” he says, and now I try to speak, but I can’t move my upper lip.
“Noah gave me a cream, and I think I’m having an allergic reaction,” I say, garbled, and now I look down to see that I’m drooling, and I can’t stop it. Nick throws his head back and laughs hysterically. “Seriously, man, I can’t even see out of my right eye.”
I look back into the mirror, and my eye is sealed shut now, and my upper lip is so big it’s covered my lower lip on the left side.
“This isn’t funny.”
“You need to go to the hospital,” he says. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” And I hang up on him.
“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Spit comes out when I try to talk, and I touch my swollen lip again and then my eye. My phone buzzes with a Facebook message, so I pick it up, joining the group chat. I hear Nick telling them about my face.
“Dude, it’s so fucking bad. His lip is covering half his face.”
My face now fills the screen, and they all gasp and then start laughing. “Holy shit, dude, you look like you just walked out of the Botched show,” Tom says while Jason puts his fist to his mouth and laughs.
“It looks like you took the vacuum cleaner and made it suck in your lips,” Tom says, laughing.
“Your lip looks like it’s legit going to explode. How much bigger can it get?” Jason asks, moving the phone closer to his face so he can see it even better.
“I have no idea,” I say, “but it feels so tight, and my eye.” I touch my eye now. “I can’t even open my eyelid.” I try to force it open, but nothing happens.
“Your other eye looks like it’s getting swollen,” Nick says. “Open your front door,” he says, and I run to the door, opening it and seeing Eliahn walking up the steps with Aiden and Nick behind her. I know right away it’s bad when she gasps.
“Oh my God,” she says.
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