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.
“Good, good.” He seemed to immediately shake out of the dark mood he’d put himself in, and he turned from me to speak to Mark about setting up another meeting.
Our little conversation was forgotten, but I was still sitting at the table, completely bewildered by him.
Had he checked up on Liv? Did he miss her? If so, why hadn’t he just reached out and apologized?
The large gaping hole in her heart that could only be filled by him and her mother grew each and every day they stayed away. Didn’t they realize that?
Promising myself that I wouldn’t interfere, I rose from my chair and headed for my office to drop off my laptop and notebook. Once again, my phone chirped in my pants pocket, and I was greeted by another text from Liv.
Liv: Coming up! Is that okay?
Shit. I had told her I would meet her downstairs to avoid this very situation. I’d come to the conclusion that when it came to working with Liv’s father, being vague with her was the key. She didn’t need to know when he’d come to the office or how many times we’d had lunch. It worked better for her to stay clueless. Every mention of him was like a jab to her side, and I preferred not to be the one giving them.
So, rather than mentioning the reason, I’d just suggested that I would meet her in the parking garage.
Too late for that.
I raced to the elevator just in time to hear it beep and see the double doors open. I swiftly stepped in front of Liv and Noah and shoved them back inside before pressing the button to close the door.
“What the heck?” Noah said. “I wanted to see your office, Dad! We were just going to peek and wait until you finished your meeting.”
I exhaled, hating myself for even having to be in this position. “Your dad’s here,” I said, turning to Liv.
Her eyes widened, and something in her features suddenly reminded me so much of her father in that moment.
It was her eyes.
They were her father’s.
“Oh,” she simply stated.
“I didn’t think you’d want a reunion today.”
“No.”
I expected a flurry of questions to spring from Noah’s mouth. Kids were always so inquisitive, especially in sticky situations when parents would rather not answer any. But, in that moment, he showed me just how much he had matured. He remained quiet, and instead of unintentionally embarrassing Liv by quizzing her, he simply sidestepped past me to grab hold of her hand.
She didn’t bother asking me about her father. She hadn’t since that day she found out how I’d met him, which was when I’d instated the don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy regarding Senator Prescott.
“I heard someone doesn’t know what cool clothes are,” Liv said, a smile trying to work its way across her face.
I glanced sideways in her direction.
“Who me?” I asked, grateful she was starting to return to me.
Noah had done that. He might not be the little boy who gave me hugs anymore, but if he could manage to lift Liv’s spirits with a single hand, I was okay with the loss.
The elevator dinged, and all three of us exited out the double doors toward my car.
“Noah said when he asked you to take him school shopping, your suggestions were terrible. Ralph Lauren? Really, Jackson?”
“What? I buy stuff there!” I scoffed, unlocking the truck so both of them could climb inside.
I’d won a game of rock-paper-scissors last night so the gas guzzling ozone killer was our ride of choice tonight.
We’d come back later to pick up Liv’s tiny circus car.
“Suits and clothes for work, Jackson! You don’t buy school clothes there!”
“Okay,” I relented. “Point taken.”
We all took our seats in the truck, and I revved up the engine. I drove out of the parking lot and stopped at the light just outside the gate.
“So, where are we headed?” I asked.
“Where else do tweens and teenagers go to get cool clothes?” she asked.
“Obviously not Ralph Lauren.”
“The mall, silly.”
This was going to be a long night.
~Jackson~
Who knew shopping could be that exhausting?
Besides the brief stop at the food court, we’d hit every major retailer that sold clothes in Noah’s size. I could barely see beyond the four-thousand bags in my hands on the way out. I’d thought we would be in and out, an hour tops, considering I’d spent a fortune to enroll Noah in a prestigious school that had uniforms four days a week.