Taking a bite of Caesar salad, I tip my head at Blake as she sits in her stroller, mesmerized by the soccer game in front of her.
“Kendra has a hundred dollars on Blake playing for the New York Storm by the time she’s eighteen. She and Jenna want me to sign her up for their soccer program as soon as she turns five.”
Taking a sip of water, Emmett sets his glass back down on the table. The second I told him that I’d accepted an internship with Morgan Jones, he has been desperate to take me out and celebrate. Easier said than done when trying to fit in a few hours around playoff games, endless team briefings, and practices at every hour of the day.
“I can personally see her following in her mommy’s footsteps and ruling the world, one court case at a time.”
I snort out a laugh, still high from meeting Felicity and Kate at Rise Up a week ago.
Reaching across, I go to steal a cherry tomato from his platewhen Emmett catches my hand in his, bringing my knuckles to his mouth.
He kisses them gently, never taking his eyes away from mine. “I’m seriously so damn proud of you, Bill. You deserve all the good things that are coming your way.”
“I honestly can’t wait to have my own money,” I say when he releases my fingers.
Emmett clasps his hands under his chin, expression pensive. I kept the money he gifted to Dad, but he knows I’ve only ever wanted to pay my own bills and not lean on others.
“I wanted to talk to you about finances and get your opinion on something. But maybe we can put a pin in that conversation until we get back to my place.”
Intrigue and excitement buzz through my body. Tonight will be the first night I’ve stayed over at Emmett’s penthouse in way too long.Finally, a night where we can put Blake to bed, and neither one of us has anything early scheduled the following morning. God bless Coach Morgan for giving the boys a rest day tomorrow.
I quirk a playful brow at my boyfriend. “Sounds ominous.”
He just chuckles, laughter fading when he notices that I’m no longer looking at him, but over his shoulder.
Emmett turns in his chair, fixated on my dad as he takes a seat at the bar and orders a drink, eyes glued to the soccer game.
I know that other than a mutual interest in classic cars, Emmett and Dad would frequently catch live sports, and so seeing him show up alone must feel a painful kind of weird.
“Do you think he’s noticed us?” Emmett asks.
I shrug and take another bite of salad. I’ve seen and spoken to Dad when they’ve cared for Blake, but we haven’t uttered a word about Emmett. Mom was right when she said that he would need more time.
When Dad briefly glances in our direction, his eyes burn into the back of Emmett’s head. I don’t need to be a mind reader to figure out that he’s still as mad as he was weeks ago. Not thatEmmett needs to know that. I guarantee he’s sitting here, thinking over ways he can break the ice and make everything right again.
Pushing his plate of food away, Emmett runs a stressed hand through his hair. “Maybe now that Freya has calmed down, she has had an influence on Scott?” He inconspicuously thumbs over his shoulder. “Is he still sitting there, or has he left?”
“He’s still sitting there,” I reply.
Dad’s eyes remain lasered on Emmett’s back. The tendons in his jaw flex as he accepts a beer from the bartender and takes a large pull.
Emmett shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t think it through, bringing us here, or even register that Scott could show up, unannounced. Lloyd’s was a place where we’d frequently catch the games.”
The way he refers to their friendship in the past tense breaks my heart.
This time, I take Emmett’s hand in mine, fingers stroking his palm. “And maybe, one day, you will watch a game together again or hit up a classic car show.”
I flick my eyes back to Dad. Bumping into him in here was a total coincidence, but maybe it was also a sign from the universe. Emmett thinks that this is all his fault, but honestly, I’m fifty percent of this relationship, too, and maybe the time has arrived for me to tackle things head-on.
After all, at the sight of us having lunch together, Dad hasn’t stormed straight out of the bar, and that can only be a good omen …
Right?
“Is Blake due for a diaper change?” Emmett pulls my attention to him.
I nod once and push back my chair, unhooking Blake’s change bag from her stroller.
Emmett rounds the table, lifting Blake into his arms. “Let me take this one, Mama. The male restrooms have a change table, andB doesn’t mind her daddy taking charge in the diaper department.”
