Training, Daddy (Inner Harbor 2)

“How much pottery are we talking about?” Pip’s parents were notorious for buying all kinds of kitschy shit during their travels so this didn’t surprise me. Case in point, the large abstract paintings in black and gold hanging up in our office. A little housewarming new business gift from their mother. All I know is that it was equally as ugly as it was expensive and Pip forced me to hang it up to shut them up. At least the colors match the gym’s branding and it’s out of sight in the office.

“I didn’t want to ask.” Diana shook her head and I agreed with her. It was probably best to not ask.

“Milo thinks that Piper will catch on if it’s at their house and so this seemed like the only alternative I could think of without dragging her downtown. My place is too small and there’s no good parking on the street.” She rambles.

“Hey, no worries. We got it figured out.” My hands trail down her arms to gather holding her hands. I’m in deep trouble. Deep ass trouble. I look down into her baby blues meeting mine. Kissing her is out of the question, but I won’t deny I’m thinking of it. That’s what comes from harboring a crush for more years than I want to count. The urge to do something is a powerful force I have to tamp down.

But I don’t, because fuck it.

“Do you want to maybe, go and get–” But I don’t get to finish my sentence because my least favorite employee right now pops his shiny bald ass head inside the door.

“Boss, the credit card machine is eating tape again.”

I glance in his direction growling, “A minute Igor.”

He looks between us, pauses and then gives me a curt nod before leaving. I glance at the popcorn tiles of the ceiling saying a little prayer. Damn it.

“So I was thinking since you’ll be here Friday night…” I didn’t know that, but I hoped. I forge on prepared to throw it out there and ask her out when her phone rings practically vibrating between us. She pulls her hands back almost snatching them out of my pathetic grasp to reach for her phone.

She puts her finger up effectively shutting me up. “I’m so sorry, one second. It’s my daughter’s school.” I watch her listen to the voice on the other end nodding. Something about show and tell, but obviously not the semi-pervy kind I’m thinking about when I glance down at her heels and stockings.

I contemplate a third try when she pockets her phone and mumbles about driving across town and being late for work.

Diana’s throat bobs and she swallows her words before speaking. “You’re the best, Jaxon.”

I only wish that were true.

Dionne Warwick channels me when I say, “That’s what friends are for.” Unfortunately for me, Diana will probably keep smiling and shining elsewhere as far as I was concerned.

“I’ll see you then.” She leans up on her tip toes surprising me and pecks me on the cheek before I can move or contemplate what’s going on. What the fuck is that about?

I wince when I repeat, “You can count on me.” She leaves and I’m left muttering to myself, “for sure.”

I may not shower for the rest of the week when I touch my face.

Three

Diana

I sprint to my desk to reach the phone that’s ringing loudly and echoing in the office. I dropped Maisy off at preschool, asked Jax for his yoga room to hold a baby shower, raced home because she forgot her show and tell on the kitchen counter after I forgot to put it in her backpack, I’m beat.

I stop for a second replaying my conversation with Jax. Did I actually kiss him on the cheek? My fingers touch my lips that suddenly tingle and make me smile. Holy shit, I freaking kissed Jax. At this rate, I was going to be paying for Maisy’s college with the curse words in my head. I blamed the stress and sleep deprivation. I did not do those things. Except I did and now I’m embarrassed with what he must be thinking.

Jaxon Holden is a behemoth of a man who leaves the rest to shame themselves. He’s attractive in the way that leaves a woman fantasizing and exhausted. Thank god for Maisy to keep me focused and her school being located twenty minutes out of the way forcing me to hurry to make it on time.

The phone keeps ringing and thoughts about Jax and baby showers go on the backburner for now. Calling Johanna is for later. I don’t check the caller ID knowing I have two clients waiting on call backs and a list of items to get Natalie before the day is over. I answer before I even sit down. “Hello, this is Harvey Croix Law Firm and Associates, Diana speaking.”

“I want to see her.” The voice on the end of the phone sends a chill up my spine and I drop my purse to the carpeted floor as I sink into my chair feeling utterly defeated. I close my eyes to cut out the peripheral sights and sounds focusing my breathing and the clamping ache in my chest from the rising panic. I hadn’t heard from Allen in months. The last time, I called begging him to help pay for one of Maisy’s treatments I could barely afford. He was behind on child support payments and I was getting ready to file a motion in the court or walk away altogether to save myself the hassle. He said no unless I was going to let him stay at the house. I said no and he declined my calls since then.

“What do you want?” Gripping the phone I squeeze my eyes shut wishing he would go away. Asking him how he got this number is pointless.

“I want to see my daughter.” He’s cold and uncaring. Nothing’s changed.

“You can’t Allen.”

The main receptionist, Joelle stares at me from her desk as if to chastise me about personal phone calls at work. I turn my back from the main office and hiss into the phone. Screw her, I’d been here a few years now, surely as a paralegal I had some seniority and the one time I pick up Allen’s call is none of her business.

“I could take you to court.” He could do that but the lady from the law center said I had a good case to keep him away permanently. His refusal to pay child support because he was working under the table and not keeping consistent visitation were enough to make a case for sole custod