He shrugs. “It’s up to you. Thibault says you’re good for the work, and what you’ve said so far on the Blue Marine case makes sense to me, so if you do well with this job, there’s no reason why you couldn’t at least consider doing more consulting for us. If you’re worried about your kids, don’t be. When you work behind the scenes like I do, the demands are a lot less.”
“Are you saying you never go out into the field? Because I thought we were going out into the field on this job.”
“Yeah, very occasionally I go out into the field, when there’s really nobody there but me, or it’s just an easy task like wandering around a store kind of thing. But, like Dev, most of my work is done here in the warehouse.”
I busy myself with my phone for a couple seconds, checking to see if my sister has responded and hiding any reaction I might be having to hearing Dev’s name. My heart is fluttering the tiniest bit.
No luck on an answer from May. I turn my attention back to Lucky. “That must make your family happy, that you don’t do the risky stuff.” I smile at him, trying to cover the fact that I’m delving into his personal life now.
“The only family I have swims around a little bowl, so it doesn’t matter either way. But I’m not much for hand-to-hand combat anyway. I like dealing with numbers, not bad guys.” He grins again, completely fine with being a chicken poo pansy, just like I am.
My smile comes both from the general fact that I like talking to him and from the fact that what he says is completely ridiculous. “Your family swims around in a bowl?”
He shrugs and then goes to his paperwork, flipping open the folder again. He talks at the papers, like he’s maybe a little bit embarrassed about his answer. “I have a goldfish.”
I’m trying not to laugh. I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. I play along, anyway. “What’s his name?”
Lucky is smiling shyly as he looks at his papers. “Sunny.”
“Of course it’s Sunny.” I do laugh then, because he’s a grown man, but inside him obviously lives a small boy. “We have a gerbil at our house.”
Lucky turns his head to look at me. “What’s his name?”
“Harold. We keep it casual, though, and call him Harry.”
Lucky laughs. “Of course his name is Harry. What else would it be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I was gunning for T-Rex, but the kids lobbied hard for something softer.”
Lucky chuckles, and encouraged by his response, I jump in with more details. “We inherited him from my son’s preschool classroom.”
He lifts his brows. “Adopting a classroom pet? That’s a big commitment.”
I roll my eyes. “Tell me about it. The sucker grew testicles one day, and the teacher said it was interfering in the learning process, so Harold had to go.” I pause, realizing with a start that I’ve once again over-shared. I tense up, waiting for the awkward silence to take over.
But I needn’t have worried. Lucky just keeps on rolling with the conversation. “And how exactly do testicles interfere in the learning process?”
It’s difficult to keep a straight face at this point. “Well, apparently, testicles are very distracting. The kids liked to look and point and talk about them. A lot. And I don’t know if you’ve ever spent any time around three-year-olds, but they tend to fixate on things like gerbil ’nads.”
Lucky barks out a laugh and then leans back in his chair. “The only young boy I’ve been around is Dev’s son, but I get what you mean. I’ve seen that curiosity in action many times. The kid’s like a dog with a bone sometimes.”
I’m completely curious right now about Dev’s son and Dev’s relationship with him, but now is not the time to delve into that. I can’t interrogate Lucky about another man’s child when that man isn’t here. It just seems too sneaky. Too devious. My curiosity is just going to have to take a backseat to propriety. Seeking a distraction, I gesture at the file.
“Do you want me to look through that? Is there anything in there that applies to what I’ll be doing?”
“Sure. Take a look.” He slides the file down the table to me. “I’m not sure a lot of it will apply, but you’re welcome to it.”
I check my phone again—still no response from May—and open the file. I make an attempt at scanning the papers inside, but my mind really isn’t on the task. I keep thinking about Dev and his son, and the fact that his child sounds a lot like mine. I wonder why, when I mentioned getting them together, Dev seemed so against the idea. I wonder if his son likes McDonald’s as much as Sammy does. I’ve promised my boy a trip there, so I know what I’ll be eating for lunch. I can plan on a stomachache after, too. I should probably stop by the drugstore and buy some Alka-Seltzer on my way home.
“I can make a copy of the file for you if you prefer.”
I snap out of my trance at the sound of Lucky’s voice. “Sorry? I’m a little distracted.”
He smiles. “I got that. Don’t worry about it.”
“Is it that obvious? Dang. I’m going to have to work on my stealth mode, I guess.” I shrug, feeling like I need to explain myself. “I’m really sorry. Seriously. I woke up today to my boss telling me I’d been laid off. It was a bit of a shock.”
“Your sister mentioned something about that. She told us that you were really dedicated to your job there, and that she thinks your being let go had something to do with you having kids.”
I shrug. “There’s no way for me to know for sure, but I have called in sick several times. I don’t ever do it for myself; whenever I’m ill, I just work through it and keep to myself so no one catches my cooties. When it’s my kids, though, I don’t have any other choice but to stay home. The daycare won’t take them when they’re sick, and I get that. Nobody wants someone’s kid making their kid sick. That’s not cool.”
“Of course. And anybody who would fire a person for being a good parent to their kids doesn’t deserve to be operating.” His mood has gone a little dark. “When it comes to family, you don’t need to worry about that garbage here. It would never happen. Dev has a son, I have Sunny. Everybody understands those commitments.”
Because he seems serious, I can’t laugh. But inside I’m chuckling. He talks about his fish like it’s his child. I want to ask him how long goldfish live, because if he’s this attached I’m worried for him. In my experience they don’t last more than six months, and I’m afraid when those six months are up for Sunny, Lucky’s not going to do very well with it. Is he crazy? I’m starting to think everybody here has at least one screw loose. The only one who seems completely sane is Thibault, but I’m not going to bet any money on that. I’m sure he has issues. We all do. I guess I fit in here more than I realized.
“Mommy, I’m bored.”
I look over the table toward the dog bed. Sammy is leaning against Sahara with both of his arms extended over her back. His right hand is flipping one of her ears back and forth, and his left one is poking Felix in the forehead, over and over. Felix’s eyes are half closed, and he’s swaying a little in a half-seated position. It’s possible Sammy has managed to hypnotize the poor dog with the finger poking.
I look at Lucky. “Do you need me for anything else? I mean, after we figure out what our schedule is for going to the site?” I check my phone one more time for May’s answer, but there’s no response yet. I’m going to give her a piece of my mind for ignoring me. Another Sister Code violation.
Lucky shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll have a copy of the file delivered to you in the next few hours, so you can take a look at it this afternoon. Write down any concerns you have, and we can discuss them next time we’re together. Be sure to keep track of your hours, because Ozzie will want to pay you for the work you’re putting in.”
I nodded. “Okay. Will do.” I stand, gathering my purse and my phone. “I promised to take my son to McDonald’s, so I should probably get going.”
Just as Lucky is about to respond, the door to the kitchen opens and my heart starts hammering aw
ay in my chest. Dev.
Sahara gets on her feet, causing Sammy to fall back into her bed. He’s left there staring up at the ceiling, laughing and moaning at the same time. “Whoaaa, Thahara. You bounthed my head on the floor.”
Dev stands in the doorway looking at Lucky and me, smiling in what looks like confusion. “What’s this?”
Lucky answers, which is a good thing because I have no idea what to say. “This is our computer specialist. She came to do some work for us, like we discussed.”
Dev’s responding grin leaves no doubt in my mind about how he feels. Relief flows through me.
“Great news. Welcome aboard.” He looks to his left, catching Sammy’s attention. “And who’s this? Did we get another puppy?”
Sammy smiles and does his best canine imitation. “Woof! Woof!”
Dev nods. “Nice. Good puppy. Stay.” He points at Sammy and gives him a hard look as he walks around the table to where Lucky and I are sitting. Then he drops into a chair next to me like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t make my heart go faster. “So what’s the scoop? Are we going to start work right now, or do we have time for lunch?”
I open my mouth to answer, but Lucky beats me to it.
“Jenny was just saying that she has to take her son to McDonald’s. And Sunny’s waiting for me at home, so I was going to leave them to it.”
Dev rubs his hands together. “I love McDonald’s. Can I go?”
Sammy jumps up from the dog bed and then continues to hop with every word that comes out of his mouth. “Yeth! You can go. Right, Mama?” It’s not unusual for him to make instant friends with someone he deems worthy, and treating my son like a dog gives you a leg up in this three-year-old’s evaluation process.
I pause for a few seconds, trying to figure out what my answer should be. Do I want him to go? Yes. Should he go? Debatable. Would I enjoy having another grown-up to talk to at McDonald’s? Absolutely.
“He can, if he really wants to.”
Dev smiles. “It’s settled, then. Off to McDonald’s we go. I’ll drive.”
Everybody stands and moves toward the door, so I do the same. I probably shouldn’t be this excited about my near future being spent at a fast-food joint, but I am. Luckily, I have Sammy to focus on as we make our way out the door, so I don’t have time to act all goofy over Dev inviting himself along.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It feels like there are two places between Dev and me, even though there’s only one. I’ve never been in a vehicle that has a bench seat in the front. “How old is this car, anyway?” I look over into the backseat at my son strapped into his car seat. He’s smiling while looking out the window, like he’s having a really great day. McDonald’s tends to have that effect on him, but I think Dev is part of the reason, too. When he held Sammy up above his seven-foot height on the way to the car, Sammy screamed with glee, like he was on a roller coaster.
“This gorgeous vehicle rolled off the manufacturing line in 1975.”
“It’s older than I am.” I laugh.
“Yes, but she drives like she just rolled off the line last year.” His car decides in that moment to let out a big, loud pop and a poof of black smoke billows from the tailpipe. I turn around and look out the rear windshield; the black haze is slowly dispersing over the street behind us.
Barely containing my mirth, I turn back to the front and press my hands together, lowering my head and half-closing my eyes. “I’m going to go ahead and pray for the environment, if you don’t mind.”
Dev reaches up and strokes the dashboard. “Don’t listen to her, Bessie. She’s just jealous because she drives around in a mom-mobile and not a well-oiled cruising machine.”
I could tease him more, but I just smile. It’s fun driving around the city with Dev at the wheel. I feel like we’re in a tank, and nothing could hurt us, not even a pack of raging black rhinos. Even without this giant car around us, I’d probably feel that way just being with Dev. He’s very intimidating to look at, but I know he’s soft inside, like an ooey-gooey chocolate truffle candy.
“What are you smiling at?” Dev asks.
I just shake my head. I don’t trust myself to open my mouth and let any words out. I’d probably start gushing about how cute he is and how much I like him and how much I want to go out on a date with him. And we’ve planned to do something later this week, but I’m not going to be the one to bring it up. I don’t want to seem overanxious. It’s not really a date, anyway. It’s just a bet that he won and I lost. He’ll probably just give me another one of those friendly, brotherly kisses on the cheek after it’s all over. The mere idea of it makes me happy. I can pretend it’s not brotherly, right?
“Oh, so we’re going to play coy, are we?” He taps his thumbs on the steering wheel as he nods. “Okay. I see how you are. I can handle it.”
I’m not going to read too much into that statement. He’s just being flirty and cute. It’s fun. I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but the way he teases and jokes around so easily, I feel like I’m with an old friend, like I can be myself.
Sammy starts chanting from the back seat. “McDonald’th, McDonald’th, McDonald’th.”
Dev glances up in his rearview mirror at our backseat passenger. “You’re not excited about eating at McDonald’s, are you?”
Sammy stretches his arms really high in the air, straining his whole body with his enthusiastic answer. “Yeth, I am!”
Dev play-frowns. “Nah. Maybe we should go somewhere else. Maybe we should go to a really fancy restaurant for your mommy.”
Sammy frowns, worried Dev is serious. “No! I don’t like fanthy rethtauranth. Fanthy rethtauranth don’t like kidth.”
Dev smiles. “How could anybody not like you? You’re awesome.”
Sammy smiles absently. “I’m awethome. I’m totally awethome.” He turns his head and looks out the window, swinging his legs so they bang into the seat. If it were in another car, I might worry about it, but this car is a piece of junk. I know Dev is in love with it, but the backseats have stuffing coming out of them, for God’s sake.
“Okay,” Dev says with a sigh of defeat, “I guess we’d better go to McDonald’s, then.”
Sammy doesn’t seem to hear Dev. He just keeps staring out the window, his face falling little by little.
Dev sees him in the rearview mirror and glances over at me. He whispers. “What’s up with that? Did I say something wrong?”
I shake my head, my concern for my son taking over my thoughts. “No, I don’t think so. He’s got something going on at daycare, I’m pretty sure. He had a ‘stomachache’ this morning.” I use air-quotes to emphasize my point.
Dev nods, turning his attention back to the front windshield as the stoplight turns green. His voice remains low so Sammy won’t pay attention to it. “You’ll figure it out, eventually. You just have to ask the right questions and get him talking.”
I shake my head as I stare at the traffic going by. “I wish I knew what the right questions were. But sometimes this kid is just a great big mystery to me. So different from my girls.”
Dev pats my leg a few times before putting his hand back on the wheel. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll stuff him full of burgers and fries and he’ll sing like a canary.”
I smile. Dev apparently knows exactly how little boy brains work.
“Hey!” Dev says all of a sudden. “What’s that over there?” He’s pointing out the front window.
Sammy’s attention snaps back to us. “Where?” He strains in his seat to see out the windshield.
Dev is still pointing. “Over there! What are those big yellow things? Looks like a big M or something.”
Sammy grabs the edge of his car seat and squeals. “It’th McDonald’th! We’re almotht there!”
“Hallelujah,” says Dev. “I’m starving. I could eat eight hamburgers right now.”
“I could eat ten hamburgerth,” Sammy says, his face split in half with a giant grin.
?
??Oh yeah?” says Dev. “Well, I could eat fifty hamburgers right now.”
“Well, I could eat twenty trillion billion gadillion hamburgerth right now,” says Sammy.
Dev shakes his head. “Dude . . . you are seriously hungry.”
“Yeah, I know.” His voice switches to pitiful mode. “My mommy made me eat cookieth thith morning for breakfatht. It’th not really food.”
I laugh in indignation and turn around to glare at my son. “You little traitor. You asked me for those cookies. You said it was the only thing your sore tummy could eat.”
“Yeth, but you shouldn’t give me everything I athk for becauth you’ll thpoil me.”
I turn around and don’t say another thing. Those words are not Sammy’s; they’ve come directly from Miles’s mouth, and I will not be sharing my opinion on that today. Not with my sweet, innocent little boy there to hear it, anyway. Bastard Miles.
“Hmmm,” Dev says under his breath. “Trouble in paradise?”
I shake my head and mumble back. “Don’t even ask.”
Dev pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and slides into a space that I could have sworn his car would not fit into if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
“You’re pretty good at driving this tank.”
“They call me the smooth operator,” Dev says in his best corny-sexy voice.
I burst out laughing so hard, I start snorting.
Dev puts the car in park and turns off the engine, staring at me.
“You think that’s funny?”
I can’t answer him; I’m still laughing too hard. I just wave my arm at him and accidentally hit his shoulder. He acts like he has to duck away, like I’m abusing him.
Time to go. I need to get some fresh air before I become hysterical; I’m already halfway there. I grab for the door handle and almost fall out of the car when it works too easily. I keep my hand out to steady myself as I walk around to the other side of the vehicle to get Sammy out of his car seat, just to be sure I won’t fall. I’m weak in the knees from all the serotonin floating around in my brain. Whoever said laughter is the best medicine knew what she was talking about.