I suck in a deep breath and hold it. Mentally, I chant:I am a grown man. I will not cry. I willnotfall apart right here in front of my daughters.
See, here’s the thing about coming into sobriety that I’ve noticed—you feel all the things. Intensely. Like all the things you’d spent years numbing come flooding back all at once.
“You must be Gannett,” Steve says, sticking a slender hand out for a shake, then thinks better of it when he sees both my arms are full. I could set the girls down and return the handshake, but… nope. Not that mature yet. The urge to Hulk out and rip his arm off is too strong.
The image of an epic brawl between Stretch Armstrong and Gumby flashes in my mind, causing me to snort. Me being Stretch, of course.
“I am,” I reply, dashing that mental performance. “Steve?”
He nods, grinning. Fucking stupid-ass looney toon looking moron.
“Steve what?” I ask, hoping for a last name so I can get Deputy O’Reilly to run a background check on this guy. The guy doesn’t give off overt felon vibes, but who am I to judge? Maybe he runs a dark, underground chess league or something.
Where I would expect to see the fucker’s stupid grin to falter at my clipped question, it doesn’t. It gets suspiciously bigger. “Promise not to laugh?” he asks. “Stephens.”
“Steve Stephens?” I clarify.
He chuckles. “If you wanna get technical, it’s Steven Stephens, but yes.”
“Do I dare ask what your middle name is?” I ask, setting the girls down so they can follow their teacher backstage.
His expression darkens suddenly. “That’s classified information, I’m afraid,” he states, his voice low. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have tokill you. I’m a stock market broker by day, and a trained assassin in my spare time. ‘A particular set of skills’ and all that.”
My brows zip to my hairline. Fuck, I knew there was something shady about this guy. It’s allllways the ones you don’t expect. Never trust a man who thinks argyle sweater vests are a fashion statement.
Sarah giggles, leaning into him and pressing a hand to his chest. “Oh gosh, Steve. Always such a goof.”
I frown. She used to love when I was a goof. That is, until she didn’t. Then, she just called me dumb, immature, and—fuck.I will not cry. I am a grown man. I can do this. Buck up.
His stern façade cracks, and he chuckles with her. “Iamjust yanking your chain, Gannett. I met Sarah at the office. I’m a real estate agent as well. The only particular set of skills I possess are staging skills. As for my middle name? It’s Leopold.”
That is, I’ll admit, kind of funny. It coaxes a laugh out of me, despite my trying to hold it back for the sake of trying to appear cold. Maybe, if the situation were different and he wasn’t screwing my ex-wife, I’d even find this jokester a kindred spirit. Likeable, even. “Leopold?Out of all the classically nerdy sounding fake middle names to go with, you choseLeopold?”
Suddenly, I realize neither he nor Sarah are laughing with me. They’re blinking at me like I’m an asshole, actually.
“I didn’t make it up. That’s myrealmiddle name. It’s been in my family for generations,” Steve explains while Sarah’s expression morphs into her trademark scowl. “Truthfully, I’m a little offended you seem to think it’s nerdy. I happen to believe it’s dignified.”
Well, okay then. Not sure if my mouth is wide enough to accommodate my size ten-and-a-half foot, but it sure does appear I’m going to make a valiant attempt at inserting it there anyway.
I clear my throat. “Right, well… Let’s go find some seats, then, shall we?”
Looks like I’ll be spending an exquisite evening learning how to coexist with Steven Leopold Stephens—my replacement.Maturely, of course.
“He putsactualpennies in his loafers.”
“Ah, yes. A true ruffian indeed. Sounds exactly like someone I wouldn’t want anywhere near my kids either,” Gordy says, sliding me my dark brown beverage of choice tonight. From his flat affect, I can’t tell if he’s actually in agreement with me, or if he’s being sarcastic.
“I just—ugh—I can’t believe Sarah’s moving on…”
“What’s the unbelievable part? The fact that she—a stunning, mature woman—would eventually try dating again, years after your divorce? Or the fact that she left a ruggedly handsome man such as yourself to chase after who you’ve just described as alimp noodle—and whose first and last name are one in the same?”
I sip my Moxie, narrowing my eyes at Gordy over the rim of my pint glass. “First of all, I can’t tell if that was a serious question. Secondly, if it was, I need you to know that what I took from that was that you think I’m ruggedly handsome.”
Gordy rolls his eyes. “Of course you would. You’re an idiot.”
I nod. “Fair point.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Gordy hums, pointedly glancing at my glass. “I’d say you were trying to give up drinking. Youhaven’t touched anything harder than that nasty-ass excuse of a soft drink all night. Add to that, you didn’t come by for over two weeks.”
