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“Dad, I’m hungry,” Brett said. “Hannah never ordered dinner. She just told me to watch TV until I fell asleep.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry,” I said. “She’s not coming back here. I fired her.”
“Oh.” Brett frowned. “Are you okay?”
I sighed. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. Come on, let’s order a pizza.”
Brett grinned and raced into the living room, jumping on the couch. After a few seconds, I smiled. This wasn’t exactly the end of the night that I’d wanted, and all thoughts of sexy June had been pushed from my head. But if it meant that I had a chance to finally bond with my son, I didn’t care. After all, Brett was the most important thing in my life. And I would’ve done anything to make sure he realized that.
--
In the morning, I woke up and sat in bed for a long time, reading the paper. I could hear Isabelle and Brett chatting animatedly in the kitchen, and the whole condo smelled of bacon and soft-boiled eggs.
When I finally got into the kitchen, Brett grinned. I grinned back – maybe this was for the best, maybe the departure of Hannah would finally mean that Brett and I would be close.
“Hey, Dad, Isabelle brought a surprise,” Brett said. He held up a bunch of comics.
“Oh, that’s nice, did you say thank you?” I raised my eyebrow.
Brett nodded.
“He was very polite,” Isabelle said. She smiled. “Would you like some eggs, Mr. Thomas?”
I nodded, helping myself to a piece of bacon from the platter on the island. It was perfect – not too crisp, not too soggy.
“Thanks, Isabelle,” I said. I took the plate she offered, neatly cutting the top of one soft-boiled egg and taking a bite.
Brett smiled again. “Hey, Dad, can we go to the zoo this weekend?”
“Sure,” I said. “Is Saturday okay? You want any friends to come?”
Brett nodded. He put his dishes in the sink and then raced into the living room. Isabelle threw an affectionate smile towards him.
“He’s growing up so fast,” she said.
I nodded and reached for my laptop, pulling it closer. As soon as it booted, I opened my email and frowned. Sixty-three emails…a bit high for a Saturday morning.
But when I saw the first subject line, my heart sank. It was from Hannah.
“Urgent – Need To Discuss Last Night.”
I groaned inwardly as I opened it and was greeted with a solid wall of text. Frowning, I leaned closer and began to read. As I scanned the page, my stomach twisted into a furious series of knots. By the time I was through, I was shaking with rage. That little cunt, I thought, slamming my laptop shut. She isn’t getting away with this shit.
“Mr. Thomas?” Isabelle looked up at me with concern. “You okay?”
“No,” I said shortly. “But I will be.”
Chapter Eight
June
On Saturday, Angela and I went out shopping. I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone other than her, but I was desperate to find something that wouldn’t made me look like a little kid in the eyes of Thomas. We went from department store to department store, looking at dresses, lingerie, and shoes.
“What about this?” I held up a grey silk bra, La Perla, with the cups done in lace.
“It wouldn’t look right on you,” Angela said. She frowned and stepped closer. “Let me have a look.” She shuffled the shopping bags from one arm to the other, hoisting them high on her shoulder. “What about this?”
I frowned. Angela was holding up a white cotton chemise, slightly sheer.
