Page 173 of Trouble from Abroad
She can’t be serious. “Do you expect me to recite my resume over dinner?”
“No.”
“Good.” Maybe there’s some common sense under all that mess, after all.
“You’re notreallymy boss.”
My chin ticks back, instinctive. Defensive, too.Did I just get demoted?“I’m not?”
“No. Lily is. Tell me about her.”
That I can do. For hours. “Lily is… the sun. Like I said in the car, she’s my own private sunshine.” I pause, choosing my words. “If I hadn’t been in the delivery room, I’d swear she’s not from this world. She’s just… too good. Too special. Definitely too evolved for a six-year-old.”
I’m not the most religious man, but Lily makes me believe in fate, in a higher power that has sent her to me. “I’m the dad. I’m supposed to be the teacher, right? But damn it, she’s the one handing out lessons. Humbling ones. Every single day.”
When I’ve had enough of staring at my empty plate and smoothing the napkin in my lap, I glance at Mia, and she’s grinning, delighted.
Salvation arrives in the form of April and Liam. We were just together a few minutes ago, so there’s no need for fanfare.
April slides in across from me, and the memory of her smelling my breath to see if I’ve been drinking is enough to curdle my mood.
The nerve. How dare she treat me like a drunk after everything we’ve been through?
She knows me too well and stares at me with a question mark on her face. “What’s wrong?” she whispers.
I answer as quietly, “Nothing. Let it go, Sherlock.”
“Bullshit,” she quips.
Fuck me, this is going to be a long night. But a public dinner table with Mia and Gunn isn’t the place to unpack April’s behavior earlier. Or her decision to plant a spy in my house.
I turn my attention to Liam and start small talk. We’re on much better terms now, consideringthat when we first met, I threatened to kill him if he ever hurt April. April is like a daughter to me, so I was just doing my fatherly duties.
The threat still stands. But now I know April’s got him by the balls and he’s not playing her like I once thought. He’s all in, and then some.
This time, captained by the maître d’, the staff gang up on us. We’re suddenly surrounded by four servers: one fills our glasses of water, two place a selection of hors d'oeuvres on the table—a gift from the chef. The last one, who I can only assume is the house sommelier, stands poised with a bottle of champagne—another courtesy of the house, of course. Liam nods and accepts it without hesitation or surprise, the pampered bastard.
The table shakes, and April shrieks before our glasses are filled all the way. She grabs her calf, and I tsk.
Liam pushes the whole table sideways, out of his way, to get to her lower leg. I grab Mia’s glass of water and mine before they tip and spill. A waiter standing guard catches theirs. Mia watches me with a curious expression, missing the joke.
I stay cool, watching Liam, who is now on his knees next to April, doting on her, reminding me of the lovesick fool I once was. Never again. But good for him—April deserves that. And the pain, too. I know damn well why she kicked the table.
“What happened, baby girl?”
I beat April to it, answering for her. Guess we’re airing dirty laundry in public after all.
“April thinks I’m a drunk. Anout-of-controldrunk who can’t handle seeing a bottle of alcohol on this table.”
Mia’s hand slides onto my thigh under the table, firm and anchoring. Only then do I realize my voice had climbed, and the tables around us are already turning to catch the drama.
Fuck’s sake. Her hand is a bit too high up my thigh for my comfort—or composure. Does she realize it, or am I imagining things? I swallow hard and sit perfectly still, torn between wanting her to stop and dreading that she might. Truth is, I’m not even sure what I’m wishing for.
I should move her hand. I don’t. And that’s on me.
I force a calmer tone. “April was aiming for your calf when she kicked the table instead.” Sipping my water, I look her dead in the eye, and ask, “Right, A?”
Leaning back, I feel Mia’s hand start to move. Light, measured strokes up and down. A ‘calm down’ move.
