Page 21 of Vicious Arrangement (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #7)

From the terrace comes a bark, and Angus tears in, jumping on the nearest sofa and racing over it to scootch to a stop near me. He looks at Josh. Josh looks at him. And Angus tilts his head and wags his tail.

“Hello, Agnus,” Josh says. “Can I pet him?”

I nod, and Angus barks, then settles for the little boy. “I love him.”

The boy and dog rush off, with Josh grabbing his bag of toys to the edge of the great room, so they can see the balcony but stay inside as Josh makes a mess and Angus rolls for belly rubs.

I take the cakes into the kitchen and put them down, setting the flame on the sauce and heating a big pot of water.

There’s salad waiting to be dressed, and the cake I made looks sad next to the cupcakes.

“Josh is going to be in heaven with two lots of cake,” Asher says, pulling out wine and whiskey and offering me a choice. “Sorry Noah isn’t here yet. I called him about three times today, so he knows we’ll be here now. So he’ll rock up.”

“Whiskey, please.”

Asher knows his way around. He puts some ice in glasses and pours some, stealing a cherry tomato from the salad. Then he leans on the counter as I fuss with dressing, the other thing I can make, as long as lemon, oil, salt, pepper and a touch of garlic is as complicated as it gets.

He looks around. “Y’know, Alonso has a herb garden, if you’re interested.”

“I’m not much of a cook.”

“It smells good.”

“Bolognese.” I take a swallow. “Katie’s sick, she’s disappointed she couldn’t come.”

His face falls a little, even as he tries to hide it and it lifts me inside. “That’s okay, we can all?—”

“We should send her some pics of us, Josh and Angus. She’ll love it.”

“Sounds fun.” He grins. “Can I help with anything?”

Just like that, he slides into a familiar place, like an old friend, and we laugh, dog and boy in our line of sight as we prep two lots of bread: cheesy garlic bread for Josh and slices for us.

Then we pick at the cheese and fruit plate I made as we talk about life, careers and nothing at all, skirting around Noah.

Of course, I tell him all about Katie.

When seven comes and goes, a familiar heaviness settles in my stomach. It’s like the first meeting all over again, but I refuse to let it. We take the nibbles, one of the fresh juices for Josh, and the whiskey into the great room, letting the wine breathe.

I’m in love with Josh, he’s sweet and good with Angus, and Angus loves him, following him when he rushes up to give me a drawing he did of me, his dad, him and Angus. Then one of Noah and all of us.

“These are wonderful, Josh,” I say.

He beams. “I love you, Ara.”

Angus barks ,and then the kid and dog take off, back to their spot.

“You’ve done such a great job with him.” I pause as we both sip our drinks. “What about his mom?”

An old, worn sadness, warm with memory and time, comes over his face.

“She passed a few years back. I’m doing my best for Joshy, but it’s hard.

I’m also lucky I’ve had Noah as a friend.

He helps out a lot with Josh. If I need someone for him, he’s there.

He’s a great godfather, hands-on, and supportive of Joshy.

I don’t allow money, but love and emotional support, and just being.

Don’t tell him, but he’ll be one hell of a father.

I see it in the way he is with Josh and how he treats him like he’s his own kid. ”

I smile and nod, but shockwaves roll through me. Are we talking about the same man here?

Near eight, there’s still no sign of Noah. I call, but he doesn’t answer. And Josh is tired and hungry and grizzly. So… fuck it. I finish dinner by just popping the bread in the oven for the garlic bread and the pasta in the simmering water.

Annoyance nibbles at me. Noah could have made an effort. After all, he’s the fucking president and he knew what this meant for me.

But I push it aside as we eat, and Josh has a grand time, loving his dinner and getting it all over his face and the floor, which Angus thoughtfully cleans.

When Josh’s finished, he looks at us. “Cake?”

“After we clean you up, kid.” Asher picks him up and carries him off to the bathroom as I clean the floor from dog and boy, along with the table, I load the dishwasher and send a gleeful steal text to Katie, along with some photos I took.

How cute is Josh?

Katie: Rude. I wanna be there.

Me: He’s def single.

Katie: I hope so, he’s a child.

I bite down on a giggle. Asher.

And I think they’d be perfect for each other.

“TV?” Josh asks. “And cake? Please Daddy? Ara?”

“I’m good with that,” I say.

“I’ll set up the projector,” Asher says. “And a place for Josh.” He mouths, ‘he’ll fall asleep.’

And so we settle in, with cake, the rest of the wine, and a milk for Josh. He’s tucked up with a Spiderman pillow and throw that must be hidden away here for when they visit, because Asher didn’t drag those over.

We pick a silly movie that Josh loves, and he demolishes more cake than can be good for him.

“C’mon,” Asher whispers, “he’ll fall asleep if we clear up.”

So we take the plates and glasses out, and we have another whiskey in the open kitchen, the lights all golden-hued and dimmed.

“Did Noah tell you the time he got us suspended? No one told us we couldn’t wear principal Anna’s best two dresses she kept in her office. Which was bad enough, but then Noah decided to wear a tuba as a hat as he played the bongos in the middle of a visit from the mayor…”

“He did not,” I say.

He nods. “He did. And when they grabbed him, he yelled, ‘Viva the Revolution!’ and ‘Crush the System!’” He pauses. “He was seven. Fuck knows what he was reading.”

I start laughing, and he does too. Somehow it gets funnier by the second until we’re falling all over the place, trying to breathe as laughter takes over. We lean on each other just as someone clears their throat.

It kills the laughter.

And the temperature drops.

Asher straightens, and I turn, staring straight into the pissed off face of Noah as he glares at us both like he wants to crush us and not the system.

Viva the revolution, indeed.