LoveHarley: More or less, yep.
KnotMyProblem: Well, that explains the muscles. But wtf kind of business does a bouncer travel for?
LoveHarley: Uh… international… bouncer conventions?
KnotMyProblem: …
KnotMyProblem: You’re notreallya bouncer, are you, Harley?
LoveHarley: I said more or less.
KnotMyProblem: If you want to play this game, then I more or less work as a treasurer.
xVerity: Children, are you going to behave yourself, or do I have to put Gwynn in charge again?
LoveHarley: Oh, we’re just fooling around. He’s not bugging me, xV.
KnotMyProblem: You make it sound like you’re going somewhere, xV. What are you up to?
xVerity: I’ve got to get back to work in a second. My morning was interrupted, but it’s about to get back on track.
KnotMyProblem: Are we talking interrupted like Nikki burst into your bedroom while you had your hot little babysitter in bed with you, or interrupted like someone spilled coffee on your paperwork?
Vincent snorted. Dr. Biernacki, who was decidedly not a morning person, glared at him from across the room like his mirth was a blight on a day that was already exceptionally shitty. When Vincent glanced in his direction, challenging his stare, Dr. Biernacki looked away. Perhaps it was the angle of his cheekbones or a trick of the light, but Vincent thought he spotted dark bags beneath Dr. Biernacki’s eyes that not even his concealer could cover up.
xVerity: Issues at work. An appointment was turned on its head. Usually, I look forward to the first appointment of the day because it sets the pace for the appointments to follow, so when it’s canceled or otherwise disrupted, sometimes I get grouchy.
KnotMyProblem: I have a hard time imagining you grouchy. You’re so polite and reserved… mostly. I’m going to write off the whole making-out-with-a-stranger thing as an indiscretion brought on by liquid courage and the excitement of an out-of-town wedding.
xVerity: Thank you, I think?
KnotMyProblem: You know, while we’re talking about jobs, for as long as we’ve known each other, you’ve never told us about yours.
xVerity: It’s like I said before—if I told you, I’d have to kill you.
Gwynning: If I die, you guys know what happened.
LoveHarley: You know what xV does, Gwynn???
KnotMyProblem: No shit, really?
Gwynning: Nikki is a very chatty six-year-old.
Vincent rolled his eyes. Of course. Nikki knew that he was a doctor, just like her mother was, but she didn’t know the nature of what he did. The fact that Vincent was an REI wasn’t what he had to keep secret—the clinical trials he conducted were.
KnotMyProblem: Spill the beans, Gwynn!
Gwynning: Nope. I’m just going to taunt you with knowledge that you can’t have. You can consider this payback for the glitter bomb. I amstillfinding glitter in Alex’s hair.
LoveHarley: Paging @TeenDad2 so when he comes back from whatever he’s doing, he can see his evil mastermind plan still at work
KnotMyProblem: Like Harley said, it was TD who planned the glitter bomb.
Gwynning: So that’s why all of you are in The Picture?
An automated bot interrupted the conversation to paste The Picture into the conversation. Gwynn and Alex stood on the left side of the photograph, shimmering blue glitter erupting over their heads in a cloud-like burst. Beside them stood the Single Dads—TD, mid-laugh, Vincent, smiling as he watched Gwynn and Alex, Harley, who was grinning and punching the air, and Knot, who’d engaged the camera with his most impish look, trouble sparking in his eyes.
LoveHarley: Thank you, picture-bot. Seeing it always brightens my day.
