Page 12 of Joey

No matter what happens, I’m gonna be angry. If I am Maisy’s father I’m gonna be angry. If I’m not, I’m gonna be angry.

There is no way past this day without a whole lot of rage inside me.

My phone rings in my pocket.

“That better not be them cancelling,” Huck says.

I have to give my two best friends a lot of credit. They’ve been very supportive of me. Above and beyond supportive.

I take out my phone and look at the screen. “Hmm,” I say.

“Who is it?” Wald asks.

“My brother Johnny. Give me a sec, OK? I’ll meet you guys downstairs.”

They nod and I turn away, walking deeper into the penthouse as I tab accept and say, “What’s up?”

“Don’t. Fucking. Do this.”

“What?”

“You know what. Do not go to that meeting.”

“How the fuck do you know about it?”

“I know everything, Joey. You should’ve come to me, dude. You should’ve told me. I’d have told you—”

“You’d have told me to forget about it.”

“With good reason. We have no idea,” he says, lowering his voice. “We have no idea what the fuck we’re into. And you want to bring a child into this world?”

“She’s already here, dumbass. She’s five years old.”

“I don’t mean the world. I mean our world.”

“Look,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face. “I don’t need this right now. OK? I have no say in your life, you have no say in my life, so just leave me the fuck alone.”

I end the call, turn off my phone, and take a deep breath.

Try to get rid of the rage.

And can’t.

CHAPTER FOUR - BROOKE

“Look,” I say to the woman on the other side of the desk. “I know what you see when you look at me.”

“What do I see?” she asks. She’s wearing a gray business suit with a light pink blouse. I know she’s wearing matching pants, not a skirt, because she got up from her desk to shake my hand when I came in the room. I like this outfit. A lot. I’m jealous that I didn’t think of it first.

I say, “You see a well-dressed woman with no skills. No real résumé. No schooling, no experience. And you’re wondering how the hell I even got into your office. How did I get past HR?”

I know how. I’m a damn good liar, that’s how. But that’s not the best selling point. So I say, “I got past HR because I’m tenacious. I’m creative.”

“You’re a liar, Miss Alder.” She sighs and holds up my résumé. “This is all lies.” Then she shakes her head and makes a little huffing sound. “I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running and frankly, I don’t care. But you’re wasting my time. So…” She pans her hand at the door. “Thanks for coming.”

“I have street smarts,” I say quickly. “I came up in the school of life.”

“Please.” She sighs again. Then she pushes a button on her phone and says, “Violet? Would you please call security? Miss Alder is leaving now and she requires an escort.”