You. The media is releasing my retirement news today.
Alrighty. Chinese delivery for the win. 8:00?
Yep. Later.
I stand up from Darden’s office and stretch my arms out, then yelp in surprise.
He hobbles in wearing a Yale sweatshirt and jogging pants. “What’s wrong, MissLane? I’ve fed you, watered you, left snacks by my laptop, and turned the heat up for you. What did I miss?”
“Nothing. The carrots were yummy.” My laptop crashed this morning, and I popped over to his place to borrow his. Instead of me taking it to my apartment, he insisted I stay.
“Well?” He hobbles over to me and glances at the computer. “I don’t see anything strange. What is it?”
My eyes widen again, and I laugh with my hand on my stomach.
I take his hand and put it there. “She kicked hard, Mr.Darden. Feel! It wasn’t just a flutter.”
He gasps as she gives another one, then blinks. “How big is she?”
“About the size of an eggplant.” I’m not as big as I should be, but she measures normally. Sadness washes over me as I think of Tuck not being with me at my doctor’s appointments.
“Eggplants are disgusting.”
“I didn’t say she was a vegetable. She’s kicking, checking out her reflexes. She’s got a little nose and is probably sucking her thumb now. Her brain is developing at superspeed, and she responds to voices. Go ahead and say hi.”
He blanches. “Hi.”
“Boring. Put some feeling in it like Cece and Brogan do.”
“No.”
“Do it!”
“Fine! Hi, eggplant! Your mom is being a pest!”
I snort as he eases down in one of his club chairs. “How are the clients?”
“I’ve got another referral from the Wall Street couple. I—I don’t know what I would have done without you, you know ...” I struggle with a wave of emotion. “A true friend. I don’t have a dad or grandparent, but I can’t imagine them being better than you. Did you buy my paintings?”
“For the tenth time, I didn’t buy your paintings. You aren’t that talented.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “I only asked once! Now twice. Chill.”
“As if I’d send my man of business in that place.”
I make a face at him. “I still like you. You’re like a warm hug on a cold day.” I mimic hugging myself as he narrows his eyes.
“Warm hug, my ass. That’s your hormones talking. Last week you cried when I let you watchTwilightafter you lost at chess ...”
I come from behind the desk. “Don’t play us down, you cantankerous old man. You’re the one who rooted for me when I applied to live here. It gives you hives to talk about feelings, but I love you. We’re not blood but better.”
He gets flustered and fumbles around as he cracks open theTimes. “You know I’m leaving all my money to charity, right?”
He peers over the newspaper, and I smirk. “I don’t care about your wealth. I do care a whole hell of a lot about you.”
He harrumphs.
“Since I have you here, I was wondering if I could pick your brain about the Russo family. All the rich people seem to know each other ...” I asked him earlier in the week, and he said he’d make some phone calls for me.