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Dean Larson sat back in her seat and regarded me for a moment. “If you’d like, I can forward you some studies showing the effects that high levels of in-personal parental involvement can achieve—”
“No need,” I said flatly. I’d no doubt read them all… and had been triply glad that I had someone like Brody in my corner, smoothing out the rough edges of my life and making neat stacks of possibilities where there had once been impossible chaos. “I’m sure children thrive in this environment.”
I knew my own would.
I loved my daughters more than life, but no matter how kind Brody or my sister tried to be about it, the truth was that I hadn’t always been the best dad. Through Brody’s encouragement, I felt closer to the girls than I ever had, but sometimes, it seemed like children ran on raw emotion, and I… well, I didnot. Plus, I regularly got so caught up in work that I missed half of the girls’ school events, playoff games, and awards ceremonies, even with Brody reminding me.
I would not let them miss out on this opportunity, too.
So I let my medical training take over, pushing out all peripheral distractions—like the truth—in pursuit of my objective.
“That sounds great,” I lied. “We’re… eager to get involved.”
“Wonderful!” Dean Larson exclaimed. “Then I’d like to offer Jacey, Cleo, and Mia admission to Mountbatten Preparatory! School starts next Monday. We look forward to meeting your husband and introducing the two of you to all the other parents.”
It wasn’t until after I shook her hand, wrote her an appallingly large check, and went out to my car to call Brody with an update that I let the reality of the situation crash over me.
The girls could only attend if I had ahusband…
And how thefuckwas I going to find myself one of those in four days?
2
BRODY
I ended the call with Grant—Dr. Brighton—and leaned over the table at the campus coffee shop table to bang my head repeatedly against my closed laptop. “Moron.”
“Wait, what? Are you talking about the admission people or Dr. Boss?” my friend Fen demanded, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. She nudged a fresh cup of coffee in my direction. “What did I miss? Did the snooty school love the girls? Or are we toilet-papering houses?”
“Of course the school loved them. How could anyone not? Dr. Brighton said they’re in.” I sighed heavily. “It’s me. I’m the moron. Always me.”
“Aww.” Fen ruffled my hair. “What’s wrong, boo?”
I waved a hand. “The usual. I’m hopelessly in love with my boss. He’s hopelessly oblivious.”
“Ah.That.” She sighed. “What happened this time?”
I glanced up at her. “He sounded weird on the phone. He was calling from the car on his way from the school to the hospital, so maybe he was in work mode, but he didn’t seem as excited as he should be. This is huge for the girls, you know? It almost felt like there was something he wasn’t telling me. Sooo…” I winced. “I panicked. I was immediately convinced that Dr. Brighton had finally, four years in, apropos of nothing, noticed the giant, bulging heart-eyes I get whenever I’m around him and realized I had feelings for him—”
“Brody,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Babydoll…”
“Yeah, I know. I’m ridiculous.” I sat upright again. “But it gets worse. I started babbling about Gym Crush Dude. You know, the cute guy at my gym with the tattoos?”
She twisted her lips in thought and tilted her head until one of her two short pigtails was sticking straight up. “The one who’s married? With children?”
“Right, but Grant—I mean, Dr. Brighton—doesn’t know that. So I talked about how Gym Crush Dude was, like,somy type, with his muscles and blue eyes and tattoos—”
“Nooo,” she moaned. “When he’s the exact opposite of your actual type, which is brown-eyed, buttoned-up workaholics with adorable daughters?”
“Basically. And, like, Dr. Brighton knows I’m gay, but I have no idea howheidentifies since he doesn’t date—though he was in a relationship with a woman for long enough to havethreechildren, so I’m guessing pretty straight—which means it’s particularly mortifying that I started babbling about bulging biceps and dick prints—”
Fen gasped, but her eyes danced. “You didnotmention Gym Crush Dude’s dick print! What did Dr. Boss say?”
“He was horrified. I mean, he was really sweet and supportive andperfect, as usual. Like, ‘Oh. That’s… great for you, Brody. I hope things work out.’ But there was this looooong awkward pause first, during which I died and only resuscitated myself because somebody needs to take Mia to dance this afternoon.” I groaned and laid my forehead back on the computer. “How has he not fired me yet?”
“Because you’re adorable. And the girls love you most. He couldn’t run that household without you. Want more reasons?”
“No.” I knew she was right, at least about the girls. “I just wish I didn’t always come off as the clueless young college kid he thinks I am. When we’re around the girls, everything is fine. I’m a normal person. He listens to me tell him about my classes, he vents to me about frustrations at work, he rolls his eyes to me about his sister, I talk about my friends. It’s like an actual… friendship,” I said at the last moment, because admitting that what I shared with my boss was basically the most satisfying relationship I’d ever had was just a little too pathetic. “But when we’re alone, for some reason, I say the stupidest things. I wish I could talk to him and be…” I waved a hand, trying to grasp for the right words. “Interesting, worldly, fascinating—”
