Wrong Place, Right Time (The Bourbon Street Boys #2)

Dev nods. “You’ve got great kids.”


I can’t say anything because his words make me cry even more. I nod my head.

Dev pulls me into a hug and holds me close. My face barely comes above his belly button, but it doesn’t matter. Even this awkward hug is enough to fill me with more happiness than I can stand. I hardly even know this guy or his son or his boss, but here they are in my home, making all this craziness I’m going through seem worthwhile.

“I should’ve called you,” he says. “This was a shock. I know it was.”

I pull away and look up at him. “Please don’t say that. I swear to you, it’s not a shock. I was maybe a little bit surprised, but it wasn’t a bad thing at all. I just . . .” I step away from Dev and wave the air around my face trying to cool myself down. “If I could explain to you about my day, you would totally understand why I acted like an idiot when I opened the door.”

He leans down to look me in the eye. “Tell me about it.”

“Not right now.” I sniff really loud, trying to keep my dripping nose from becoming too disgusting. “I need to order pizza.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pull my cell phone out.

Before I can locate the telephone number of our favorite pizza place in my contacts, Dev takes my cell away from me and sets it down on the counter. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “Do you hear that?”

Now that he’s pointed it out, I can hear the laughter and the happy squeals coming from the other room again. Jacob’s voice is part of it this time.

“Those are the sounds of people who do not give a crap whether there’s going to be pizza here in the next half hour or not. So you can take five minutes to tell me what’s going on.”

I let out a long hiss of aggravation and frustration as I realize he’s right and I do want to get this stuff off my chest. “Well, let’s see . . . I went back to my old workplace to get my last paycheck and my stuff, and I ended up going head-to-head with my boss about my severance.”

“I hope he gave you something.”

“Oh yeah, he did. He gave me what I wanted, actually, but I had to be a world-class superbitch to get it. I don’t like acting like that, and I don’t like feeling like I’m threatening somebody just to get them to do the right thing. I want people to do what they’re supposed to do without me having to force them, you know?”

“I do. I’m glad you stuck up for yourself.”

“Yes, well I thought that was going to be the worst part of my day, but unfortunately it wasn’t. When I went to pick Sammy up from daycare, I found out that he’s been having a problem with some other kids.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?”

I throw my hands up. “I would love to know! But all I heard from the director is that there was some shoving and some pushing, and some kids got hurt. And now, Sammy’s no longer allowed there.” I drop my voice to make sure no one in the other room will hear me. “And apparently I am a horrible parent, because my son has a speech impediment and I haven’t done anything to fix it.”

Dev’s face screws up. “Say what?”

“I know, right? I don’t get it. I mean, he’s not even in kindergarten yet, and this woman is telling me that I need to get him into speech therapy or I need to stop thinking it’s cute or whatever . . .” I look off into the distance, because if I look into Dev’s eyes right now, I’m going to start crying all over again. “People suck.”

Dev takes a step closer to me and puts his hands on my upper arms, shaking me gently so that I’ll look at him. I comply, craning my neck to see his face.

“Not all people suck. Apparently, the person at that daycare does, but most people who run daycares are nice and they understand that not every kid is born exactly like another. Differences make them unique and special, not deficient.”

“Thank you. I agree with you one hundred percent. And it’s not like I’m this neglectful parent, okay? I realize that my son has a lisp. It would be impossible to miss. But I don’t think putting pressure on him at this age is a good idea. Am I crazy for believing that?”

Dev squeezes my arms again. “No, of course not. I’m sure that you’ve listened to your pediatrician and you’re following whatever orders your doctor has given you. Besides, if there were something really wrong, your maternal instincts would kick in and you’d do whatever needs to be done. So you don’t need to worry about whatever that person said to you. You’re a good mom, and you’re doing the right thing, whatever it is.”

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