Page 158 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

Captain chooses that exact moment to thrust the plush plane against my shin.

Useful dog.

I bend, pick it up, and hand it back to him. “I’ll assist where required.”

Addy clears her throat and returns to the list with a concentration that's almost certainly manufactured. “Good. Then you can do the wine.”

“That seems manageable.”

“And possibly flowers.”

I look at her. “Flowers?”

“Yes. People bring girlfriends to dinner, and then women like me have to see whether the host is civilized.”

“I'm civilized.”

She lifts a brow. “You say things likeI reward useful.”

“That's civilized in certain industries.”

“It's not civilized in homes.”

I lean back slightly on the stool. “Would flowers improve your assessment of my social viability?”

Her gaze flicks up to mine. “Potentially.”

“Then I’ll buy flowers.”

That seems to give us both somewhere safer to stand.

“Good,” she says, writing it down. “See? Growth.”

“Don’t get sentimental.”

“I would never.”

Oliver appears in the doorway then, holding two magnetic tiles and wearing the expression of a child in possession of urgent policy concerns. “Captain broke the runway.”

Captain, traitor to infrastructure, wags once.

Oliver looks at me. “Are people coming over?”

“Yes. Saturday.”

He nods solemnly. “Can I show them my airport?”

“Yes,” I say.

Addy adds, “Provided it passes safety inspection.”

Oliver narrows his eyes at her with theatrical suspicion. “You always say that.”

“Because I believe in standards.”

He accepts that, mostly, and returns to the living room with Captain following close behind.

The apartment quiets again.