“Then, we’re good. Hand it over,” I answered with a grin.
He handed me a wrapped burrito marked with a V, and we all settled on the empty couches in my lobby area. I’d purposely leave the noon hour open, so I could take a lunch break. Sometimes, appointments might go late, but for the most part, it usually worked out. The afternoons were my busiest times anyway. Everyone wanted to schedule appointments after school or at least toward the end of the day.
“So, Mia tells me you had a hot overnight date this weekend?” Garrett said through a mouthful of burrito.
“Jackson took me to his boss’s lake house for the weekend,” I replied before adding, “with his son.”
“Oh, so not hot?” Mia asked as she picked around her taco salad.
“Well, we had our moments, but it definitely wasn’t a romantic getaway, if that was what you were picturing.”
“I’m trying not to picture anything,” Garrett chimed in.
“Were you ready for that?” Mia asked. “Considering—”
“We didn’t sleep together.”
“Oh, I just assumed when you said—”
I smiled, remembering Jackson’s sweet words. “We got close, but he put the brakes on.”
“Hold up,” Garrett said mid-bite. “He said no? To sex?”
I looked down, staring at my half-eaten burrito, as I recalled our evening in the hot tub. “He said he wanted to wait…until I was ready.”
There was silence for a moment.
When I looked up, I saw tears in Mia’s eyes.
“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Liv.”
“Am I missing something? Ready for what?” Garrett said, his eyes darting between the two of us.
“Dork.” Mia just rolled her eyes.
We returned to our meals, letting the laughter eventually die down. I made googly eyes at my godson and watched as Mia fed him tiny handfuls of cheerios.
While Asher was busy eating, Mia looked up at me. “Are you okay? I mean, after last week. You haven’t talked much about it.” A serious tone replaced the jovial one she’d used earlier.
I knew she would ask after I’d mentioned Jackson. “I’m almost there. I’m nearing the realm of okay,” I said with a small smile.
“I just don’t feel like I’ve done anything. I feel like I should be helping you in some way.”
I leaned forward, placing my hand on hers. “This, right here, having a nice, normal lunch with me—that’s all I want. I know I can’t expect to forget it, but I don’t want to dwell on it either.”
“Well then, good. I’m glad I’m helping you do that. Is he?” she asked, speaking of Jackson.
I grinned. “Yeah, he is.”
Jackson
The Senator and his crew had been at the firm all afternoon, and it was well past closing time. I looked at the clock again and saw the minute hand tick one minute further past five. My lip twitched in annoyance.
Four agonizing long hours of brown-nosing and kissing ass had nearly sent me over the edge, and now, I was late in getting out of here.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I snuck a look.
Liv: I’ve got Noah. We’re on our way.
Realizing I might have nights like these, I’d given the summer camp Noah was attending permission to release him to Liv. Thank God I’d thought of that. Otherwise, I’d be in sheer panic at this moment, wondering if my son was being hauled off to child protective services because I hadn’t arrived to pick him up.
“Everything all right?” Senator Prescott asked from across the table.
I looked up and saw genuine concern in his expression. A career in politics was never good to the body. Over the years, the once good-looking and fit man, Douglas Prescott, had faded, and he now looked years older than his actual age. Stress had a way of doing that to a person.
“Yes,” I answered. “Just making sure my son had a ride home from camp.”
Raising his wrist, he glanced at his watch, and his eyes widened. “Look at the time, gentlemen! Someone should have said something. We can finish this up later.”
Quiet chatter began as people around the table shuffled papers together and packed up their laptops. I began the same process, eager to meet Liv downstairs when she arrived.
“How old is your boy?” Senator Prescott asked me.
“Eleven,” I answered.
“Ah, quite the age if I remember correctly. Although, I have a daughter, so things could be completely different.”
I paused, amazed that he was openly talking about Liv, considering the man was about to launch a presidential campaign. I figured he would do everything he could to downplay his estranged daughter as much as possible.
“How old is your daughter?” I asked, intrigued to see just how much the old man would divulge.
“Late twenties now. She works as a family counselor, helping children mostly,” he answered quietly, his eyes full of some deep-seated emotion. “Kids grow up way too fast. Remember that, and cherish every second.”
“I’m trying,” I answered.