Bad Manners - Single Mom Fake Fiance Office Romance

I really didn’t think that Carly’s mother was in the picture anymore. Russ might have been trying to hide it, but he honestly didn’t seem the type to cheat. Besides which, Carly would have mentioned her, subtly and tact not being features of childhood. Particularly for someone her age. But there wasn’t a peep.

The problem was I couldn’t see how all our relationships could be mutually exclusive. If things went wrong with Russ. If he didn’t feel the way I was starting to, and Drew had to stop seeing Carly, that would be a disaster.

All I could do was take it slow and hope for the best.

After getting a quick shower to brighten myself up, I went into the kitchen to start the espresso machine before getting Drew up for the day. The machine churned, and the eggs sizzled, as Drew sat at the table reading, oblivious to all else.

As the omelet cooked, I got out my phone and dialed, tucking it between my ear and shoulder as I watched that the eggs didn’t stick to the pan despite the butter I had already put in. “Hello?” Russ said, sounding groggy. “Oh good! Your up.” “Technically,” he said, in a way that made me unsure if he was joking or not. “I was thinking if you wanted the day off to be with your sister at the hospital, that would be fine. I can put the paralegals on your case prep and drive Carly to school. I mean, I’m going that way anyway.”

“That would be great, thanks,” he said. “See you in about an hour?” “Okay.”

“Are we going to Carly’s house?” Drew asked, not looking up from his book.

“Yes, honey,” I said, slightly startled.

We were nearly late leaving, Drew insisting on getting books that he thought Carly would like. Hustling down to the car, I got Drew into his car seat and headed out into the gathering traffic.

“Can I read you something, mommy?” Drew asked from the back. “Of course, honey,” I said, not paying much attention. When he started to read, I couldn’t help but take notice. It never ceased to surprise me the concepts and emotions that could come of his little mouth. I had to wonder if he might have a career in audiobooks. Not the loftiest of goals a mother could have but there was no denying his aptitude, and I would always prefer that Drew did things because he enjoyed them — not because they went along with the constructed notion of “success” or worse, “influence.” Russ’s building wasn’t too difficult to find. He was a bit off of the main drag, but I knew the area. Unbuckling Drew, we went up to the main entrance and looked for Russ on the intercom. There was a Ricci but not a Russ. The only listing was for a K. Ricci. I was fairly sure I had heard that his sister’s name was Kimberly. Taking a gamble, I pushed the button and waited.

“Yeah?” Russ asked.

“It’s Ann,” I said

There was a soft buzz, and the door clicked open with no further comment from Russ’s end of the intercom.

The door was unlocked when we got there, I assumed in preparation for our arrival. The apartment was small but well kept. Everything seemed to have its own place. The living room and kitchen made up most of the immediate space. There was a small table set up in the kitchen across from the fridge near a window. I had heard tales of downtown apartments with views but had yet to see one. The living room was cozy but comfortable, the three walls available occupied by bookshelves, reminding me of Drew’s room. Before I could stop him, Drew broke free of my grip and ran on still pretty stiff ankles over to the nearest bookshelf. It was one filled top to bottom with kids’ books.

Unable to resist, I went over and took a look myself. The shelf I started browsing was filled with parenting books. Russ really was doing his best to bring up Carly himself, doing basically what I had done. I still looked for help on occasion from our parents and people I knew who had kids themselves, comparing notes. Russ didn’t really seem to have that option, not really knowing anyone in the city. At least he wasn’t trying to do it all alone, having his sister there to help.

“What the hell are you doing?” Returning to the floor from my two-foot jump in the air, I turned to see Russ storming into the room. “I was just —” “Snooping on me?” Russ demanded. “No. I just—” “I must look pretty pathetic, huh? A whole bookshelf of parenting books. I know there isn’t supposed to be a manual, but I still tried to look, sucker that I am.”

“I don’t —” “Pathetic! I know! I’m pathetic!” he raged, seeming to carry on the conversation himself.