Page 47 of The Irresistible Distraction

“With a secretary who was an English major and paralegals. They do the fix-y, fix-y grammar stuff so I can focus on, you know, law.”

“Fine.” I huff out a breath, because Brody always has an answer, something I should have learned by now.

“So . . . because my secretary and paralegals are a) swamped and b) technically supposed to be working fewer hours for me since I’m part-time, I was more or less forced to phone a friend.” At my look, Brody continues, his smile easy, guiltless dimples flashing at me. “Lorelai double-majored in English and computer science at Caltech, helped me study for the LSAT, and has a PhD from UCLA. Fully qualified.”

“She sounds overqualified.”

“For a Lincoln essay? Vastly. But she’s pregnant—miracle pregnancy, blah blah—and her doctors and husband are overprotective ass-tronauts.”

“Astronauts?” My son’s expression and tone convey his extreme skepticism, even as he bites his own lip to keep from smiling, an expression that has often mirrored my own.

“Dude, I’m trying.” Brody grins down at Sebastian in a way that suggests this, too, has become a thing between them.

I rub my eyes, knowing I’m losing the battle. Maybe the entire multiversal war. “So the overprotective astronauts . . .”

“Put my friend Lorelai on bed rest. She’s sneaking in some work, but . . . she owes me, big, so she looked at Sebastian’s essay. Oh, she also communicated that she’d be—” He pulls out his phone, something he never does when we’re together. “Let me get the words right: ‘thrilled to pay off her debt to Brody Branca via Python lessons for Sebastian Williams.’”

“You hired a programming tutor for Sebastian?”

My son is immediately defensive. “You’re always saying I need to like more than just math. And I looked her up online, Lorelai is crazy smart⁠—”

“Yes, but we could have discussed⁠—”

Brody cuts in. “I absolutely should have asked your permission. And I will, next time. It was just too good of an opportunity to miss. Lorelai’s like un-hirable good. Like you could be a trillionaire, and if she’s not inherently interested, she doesn’t need the money. But if she can help Sebastian link math to computer science and thus expand his horizons, I think it’d be a win. Also, like I said, she owes me BIG.”

I know I should set some boundaries here.

Be the parent.

Say something about Brody not having the right to make decisions without me.

But . . . what is there to be angry about here, really? Brody sidestepped the usual procedures, but it sounds like he’s procured a tutor for something Sebastian’s excited about and . . .

“Could I still skim the essay?”

“If you have to. And if you promise to let me try the programming.”

“Just programming, not the programming,” Brody corrects with a smile. “What is it with you guys and adding needless articles?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me while the heat creeps up my neck, knowing he’s referencing the sex comment from what feels like eons ago. I shake my head at him, but Brody just laughs. “I told you, I’ll stop when it’s no longer fun. Or, I guess given the family tradition, the fun.”

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice slightly strangled. “Seba tries programming, lets me do a final approval of the essay, and you guys can pick a movie while I look it over.”

Sebastian gives me a hug, because that’s how excited my son is to learn programming. And I remind myself that Sebastian is a blessing and to treat all of this like a gift.

“I guess we’ll all go back to our place?”

Brody’s smile is wide as he gestures to Vera’s broken television, which is at least two decades old. “My assistant Cally’s having a new one delivered tomorrow, along with the new mattresses and couch.”

“And I know I’m repeating myself here, but . . . Vera approved all this?”

“More than approved.”

He must see my disbelieving look. Like me, Vera tends to lean toward independence.

“You know she asked me to donate Vernon’s old clothes while I’m here?”

Sebastian watches, eyes wide, while I shake my head. Vera’s never suggested anything to me, and I’m a little surprised I never thought of it myself.