Page 17 of Knocked Up By the Silver Foxes

Then he seems to remember where he is. The corner of his mouth pulls up and he lets go of the door handle and turns to Sophia.

“You look great, Soph.” He pulls her into a side hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Breathe.”

“I’m breathing,” she says, a little too fast.

“Breathe slower.” He falls into step on her other side, arm around her shoulders, steering us down the corridor like he’d been planning to walk this way all along. Like he wasn’t just standing completely motionless in a hallway thirty seconds ago.

Just what we were missing. A chaperone that makes me want to misbehave.

I keep my eyes forward. I hold my tablet against my chest. I walk with the focused composure of a woman who has her life fully under control and is not, in any way, aware of every single inch of space between herself and the man to her left.

“You ready?” Maddox says.

It takes me a beat to realize he’s talking to me.

I look up. He’s watching me with that easy, knowing look, the one that suggests he has more information than he should, and there’s something underneath it that I don’t examine too carefully because I’m already operating at capacity.

“Always,” I say.

His smile deepens by exactly one degree.

I face forward again.

Willy Wonka costume, I remind myself. Decorative spoons. Whatever it takes.

I’ve got a pitch to help win.

7

KILLIAN

Iadded three additional duties to Raphael’s contract this morning.

Stage equipment inventory. Post-event sound checks. Attendance at all vendor coordination briefings. Things that needed doing anyway. Completely legitimate. The fact that they collectively account for most of his free hours between now and August is simply good resource management.

I’m not explaining myself to anyone about it.

The conference room is set up for Sophia’s presentation when I walk in. Laptop, projector, printed materials at each seat, a level of preparation that tells me she’s been working on this for weeks and took it seriously enough to bring reinforcements. Asher and Maddox are already seated on one side of the table.

Maddox had accompanied Sophia and Harper to just outside the doors. My daughter is much more nervous than I’d anticipated and needed another moment to collect herself, but I’m not worried. My daughter could take over the world if she were to set her mind to it.

I take my usual chair at the head and note, in the precise and completely neutral way that I note all things, that Maddox has positioned himself where he’ll have a direct sightline to the presentation screen and also to the chairs on the opposite side.

He’s not here purely for Sophia’s benefit.

Neither is Asher, whose attention went to the door the moment I walked in, which means he was already watching it before I arrived. I hadn’t seen why my two best friends were so determined to be present, only Sophia taking deep breaths by the window with her back to me. Harper must have stepped away, even though the thought of her hiding from me made me possessive as hell. Imagining her hiding behind a pillar because she’s nervous to see me makes it hard to stay neutral about how much I’m attracted to her.

I’m aware I have no standing to be irritated by this. I’m aware of that completely. I’m irritated anyway.

The door opens and Sophia comes in ahead of Harper, talking, the way Sophia does everything, leading with her whole self. She’s in pinstripes and gold and she looks like exactly what she is, a young woman who built something from nothing and knows its value. I feel it the way I always feel it when she walks into a room I’m in, this specific warm tightness in the chest that I’ve never found adequate language for.

That’s my daughter.

Harper follows her in and I keep my eyes on Sophia and that is where my eyes stay because I made a decision this morning and I’m keeping it. I’m aware of the peripheral shift when she takes her seat. I’m aware of Maddox going very still in the way he goes still when something’s gotten his full attention. I’m aware of Asher sitting slightly straighter.

I focus on Sophia.

“Good morning.” Sophia sets her portfolio on the table with the confidence of a woman who has prepared for this and knows it. “Thank you for your time, Dad.” She glances at Asher and Maddox. “Uncles.”