“Nothing,” he said.
“Good,” Lauren said. “I’ll make a note for the chef. What can I get everyone to drink?”
“Milk,” Archer said.
“Lemonade for me,” Farrah said.
“I’ll take a water,” he said.
The server moved away and Farrah said, “You could have gotten a beer if you wanted.”
“I didn’t want one,” he said, smiling. Maybe he thought of it for a brief second, then changed his mind. “Besides, not so great for my ulcer.”
She cringed. “Forgot, sorry.”
“Good thing I’m not your patient,” he said. “You might have failed there.”
Her face flushed and he felt horrible for the joke.
“Burn on you, Mom.”
“You’re a little stinker tonight.”
“You love me this way,” Archer said. “I’m getting a double bacon burger.”
“I’m not sure your mouth can open big enough for that,” Jayce said. “Let me see?”
Archer opened his mouth, the kid stretching it as far as it could go. “I’ll just squish it down if I need to.”
“He’s done it before,” she said. “Nothing stands in the way of my kid’s gut when he’s hungry. I should have asked—how are you feeling?”
“Much better,” he said. “Thanks.” Their drinks were placed down. Archer and Farrah ordered and he got a boring grilled salmon with rice and a vegetable dish.
He was used to eating healthy, but had to admit he was missing some wings, or maybe a pizza. Soon enough, at least from what his mother told him about his father with a flare-up.
He was an idiot who got himself in this position. He should have done something about his job over a year ago. Either pushed more that he was working himself silly, or looked to leave.
But his ego told him he had it handled. To make himself invaluable. That he could work his way up to the one in charge of marketing and get that big office.
Rub elbows with the brass, spend more time with the players. Be looked at as being more important than making sure the team got what they wanted and were looked after in the best light on top of promotions and press.
There were times he was doing it all. Every open position, part of those responsibilities landed on him and it seemed they were never taken away.
Throw a bit more money his way if they thought he was frustrated and he’d bite his tongue.
The uncertainty of his future wasn’t even causing headaches like the job that he’d loved so much had.
That alone should have said everything.
And no one looking at him would think there was anything uncertain in his future. He had to get over that.
The rest of the conversation was centered on Archer, that he’d be up before Jayce got there and fed. Farrah left for work at seven fifteen, she’d be home by four thirty most days.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said when he dropped them off. He wasn’t used to saying that either. It was killing him not to pull his credit card out and pay for dinner when the bill came.
“Can you come over on Saturday?” Archer asked when he climbed out of the back seat.
He was glad Archer seemed to be in his corner.
