It’s true, I’m not much of an early riser. Normally, Josie’s up with Paige and following her out the door.
She comes over and kisses me on the cheek. “Morning, I couldn’t sleep. Thanks for sending me the pics I asked for.”
Ouch. I didn’t.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m home now. You can go through my phone.”
“And use your credit card?” She gives me her best Westbury grin.
“Of course.” There’s zero hesitation in my answer. I’ll give her, Noah, the triplets, Josie . . . hell, just about anyone in my life whatever they want.
“How’s Ralph’s?” she asks as she pours a glass of orange juice. “Noah really likes working there.”
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. “Did he tell you that?”
She nods and puts a bagel into the toaster. “He’s having fun. He said there’s no pressure.”
“That’s great, and the place is fine. Perfect, really. I guess I owe that to your brother.”
“Do you think I could work there?”
Her question gives me pause. Paige doesn’t need to work. Noah doesn’t either, but he was a logical choice to ask before I left on tour. I take a sip of my coffee and think. I have every reason to tell her no, to remind her that she’s a teenager and she should be out living her life.
“I need to talk to your mom,” I tell her. This isn’t a decision I can make without Josie, and honestly it might be better for Paige to work at Whimsicality.
Safer, at least.
“Why do you want to work there?”
Paige starts spreading cream cheese on her bagel. She glances at me and then back at her food. “More my scene,” she says. “I know you’re probably thinking I already have a job doing the social media for the bands and while that’s true, it’s a twenty-minute job most days.”
“Aren’t you helping with the triplets?”
She lifts her shoulder. “Peyton and Talisa have the babies covered. Plus, Mom.” She stares out the kitchen window.
“You still work at the studio?”
She nods. “Yeah, but it’s only one day a week and usually on Saturday when the recording room is booked.”
“You know you don’t have to work, right?” I refill my mug. “Your mom and I work, so you can be a teen, focus on school.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be a nepo baby.”
I say nothing. We’ve had this conversation a few times and there isn’t much I can do about how she feels or how people see her. “Working at the bar won’t change that.”
“No, but if I’m waiting tables, it puts money in my pocket that you didn’t hand me.”
She has a point. “I’ll talk to your mom and see what she thinks.”
Paige kisses my cheek again. “I’m glad you’re home, Daddy. Are you coming to Mack’s game?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
I pour the rest of my coffee out and follow Paige to the door. Her jet-black Audi Q5, which was a Christmas present, sits behind my beat-up truck. I chuckle and she looks at me. I motion toward the car. “You don’t want to look like a nepo baby but drive a brand-new car.”
Paige huffs. “I wanted a red bug so I could name her lady and put black dots and eyelashes on her, but no, Mom said I had to have something safe.”
She’s not wrong. Josie insisted on the Audi. I wanted Paige to have a truck, because I know how safe it would be in all weathers. But I also know what her mother and I were doing in my truck at Paige’s age, so it would have to have bucket seats and an exposed chassis, because again, teenage hormones.
