Page 3 of Who’s Your Daddy (Dadcoms #1)
Lola
“ A m I staying in here while you go deal with the dad mess?” Murphy looks around my office, eyes wide. His lips are tinged blue from the Slurpee. The resemblance to his father is uncanny, but unlike Cal, this kid is sharp as a tack.
“It’s not a mess,” I assure him.
There’s a good chance that’s a lie. This could be the mess to end all messes. I have no idea how Cal will react when he finds out he has a six-year-old.
Murphy turns away from the bookcases he was inspecting and cocks his little brow. Although he doesn’t say a word, the I ’ m not stupid is telegraphed clearly.
“We’re just trying to get everything squared away,” I say. “There is no issue.”
“Unless you consider that my dad is an idiot.” Murphy sighs, his little shoulders deflating.
God, this kid is far too perceptive.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Lies. I’ve called Cal an idiot more times than I can count. But this poor kid has been through more emotional turmoil than anyone should have to deal with. I don’t want to add to it. “It’s more like he looks at the world with childlike wonder. ”
Murphy’s lips pull into a tight line. “So he’s slow.”
As if it has a mind of its own, my chin dips. I catch it quickly and shake my head instead. “ No . How about you relax on the couch while I figure out the plan?”
“Fine.” He drops his blue backpack on the hardwood floor with a thunk and settles onto the cushions. With his half-empty Slurpee cup balanced next to him, he digs a tablet from the bag. “What’s the Wi-Fi password?”
“Oh.” I stand. “I can connect it for you.”
He shakes his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I can do it. I just need the password.”
I open the top drawer and pull out the card where I’ve typed out the information he’s looking for.
Then I scoot around the desk and hand it to him.
At lunch, when he read the menu at Ruby’s, I discovered that he reads at a level far higher than the average first-grader.
I learned that he’s going to start first grade this fall when I gently pried a few pieces of information from him.
“I’ll be right back,” I promise as I shuffle to the door.
He lifts a shoulder, his focus never leaving his tablet, like he couldn’t care less whether I stayed or left. The reaction makes my chest squeeze.
How often is he left alone? For such a young kid who’s been thrust into a situation that would be terrifying to even the most hardened adults, he’s not the least bit fazed. Though it’s probably a good thing he’s self-sufficient, all things considered.
I slip out the door and rush back across the hall to Brian’s office. When I step inside, I find Brian and Sully, but no Cal.
“Where is Cal?” I hiss as I scurry closer.
Sully, who’s sitting in one of the guest chairs with one ankle resting on the other knee, scowls. “He needed a minute.”
My stomach lurches. “He left? Don’t we need a plan?”
My reaction is ridiculous, really. I shouldn’t be surprised he ran away the moment responsibility called his name.
The men’s gazes shift behind me, and a second later, a little throat clears. “Sorry. This was in my backpack. I was supposed to give it to you.”
I turn and find Murphy holding out a manila envelope.
Once I’ve taken it, he backs out of the room and disappears.
I’m tempted to chase him, to assure him again everything is okay.
But this kid is too smart to be placated.
Most of the kids I deal with are all too aware of the nuances of their situations.
So I fight the urge and peek inside the envelope.
Finding what I assumed I would, I dump the birth certificate, social security card, and state health insurance card onto the desk.
“How helpful.” I pick up the birth certificate and scan it. Sure enough, Callahan Murphy’s name is printed on the line reserved for the child’s father.
I shove it toward my boss, making sure he sees what I’m seeing.
“Yeah,” Brian rubs a hand down his face. “We’re aware. We already pulled a copy.”
Sully lowers his head and gives it a shake.
“But having the original helps. I’ll have to file it with the court so he can move to Jersey with us,” Brian adds.
I wince. I’d all but forgotten about the hellhole since the bomb was dropped on us a couple of hours ago.
Damn. This kid is going to have to live there right alongside us.
Pursuant to the trust, it’s not just the partners who have to live in the small apartment.
Their spouses and children are required to as well.
Dread washes over me. What exactly was Terry thinking when he crafted the terms?
Brian sets the birth certificate down. “School doesn’t start for another week or so. That means he’ll have to be with you all day.”
“Me?” I shift back and bump into the bookcase behind me. “What?”
“Emergency guardianship.”Brian cocks a brow at me. “You’re the only one with the credentials to hold him until the court grants the request.”
I sigh. Right. That is my job. Normally I don’t bat an eye at the long hours emergency guardianships require, but this is Cal’s kid. Somehow that thought makes my stomach flip.
With a deep inhale, I shake off the sensation. I do this all the time. I need to get it together. The court should be ready to hear the emergent filing tomorrow. “Okay. I can keep him tonight.”
“Three days,” Sully all but growls.
Eyes narrowed, I shoot daggers at him. In this moment, I despise him almost as much as Sloane does. He could at least say please.
Sully must sense the angry energy flowing from me because his tone softens when he speaks again. “My brother will be in no position to take care of a child by tomorrow.” His entire being sags. I can’t blame him. So much of the responsibility is going to fall on him. I can already envision it.
I scoff. “But he’ll be parent of the year by Thursday?”
“No. By Thursday we’ll all be together.” Brian frowns as if the words he’s spoken have forced reality to finally set in.
Because, thanks to Terry, by Thursday, we will all be living in Jersey.
I’m not sure whether the idea seems better or worse than it did two hours ago.
“After the cleaning service and pest control get through the building, we can move in,” he says, his tone full of false lightness, like he’s working to convince himself as much as me.
“ Pest control ?” I shiver and blow out a rough breath.
Sully rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ease the headache he’s suffered from for the entirety of his little brother’s life. When he lifts his head, his blue eyes plead with me. It’s a vulnerability I’ve never seen from this stoic man. “Please, Lola? We need you.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms and steel my spine. This is outrageous, yet once again I find myself signing up for the ridiculousness without much fight.“I’ll keep him until Thursday. You two get the paperwork done, then you have to find me an apartment. ASAP.”
Brian smirks. “Sure you don’t want to live with us?”
“Oh, don’t even try it, I am not going to be Cal’s nanny.”