“Okay.”
She removes her bag and drops it on the floor. Luna charges for it, her tail wagging like crazy. I’m sure she can sniff the watermelon.
“No, Luna,” I reprimand, pulling against her leash.
I get a whimper of disapproval.
Why is it so hard to leave the house every morning?
“Ready?” I ask Naomi when she’s all buttoned up.
“Ready!”
“All right, gang, the train is leaving the station.”
I grab my keys and we’re headed out the door to my triple car garage.
I unlock the Range Rover and open the back door. “Backpack, please.”
Naomi obliges.
“Come on, in you go,” I say, grabbing Naomi in my arms. I buckle her up in her booster seat and close the door.
“Your turn,” I tell Luna and I circle the vehicle.
When I open the door, the dog starts pulling at the leash.
“Luna, where are you going?”
She doubles her efforts in her attempt to escape.
She hates the Ruffwear harness I bought her.
“Luna, everyone buckles up in my car. Do you hear me?”
She lets out a pained groan.
“Safety first, Luna.”
I can’t believe I’m giving a dog a pep talk.
“Luna!” I yell when she doesn’t move an inch.
She throws herself against the brick floor back first.
“And the Academy Award for drama queen of the year goes to… Luna!”
I pull against her leash to get her back on her feet, but to no avail.
“Luna, I don't have time for a tantrum.”
She’s unwilling to cooperate.
To make matters worse, she rolls herself on the ground, which results in wrapping the leash around her body.
I let out an exhausted breath. “Luna, I do not negotiate with terrorists!” I wag my finger at her.
Naomi giggles.
Luna lifts her head and flashes me an unimpressed gaze.
“Don’t you dare cut your eyes at me.”
There’s no hiding the impatience in my voice.
“Luna,” Naomi calls out. “I have some watermelon? Do you want a treat?”
All of a sudden Luna is on all fours and before I know it, she leaps into the Range Rover.
I shake my head.
I guess my child negotiates with terrorists.
I take full advantage of the moment and strap Luna in her harness. She growls, but I’m quick.
Just when Naomi is about to open her plastic container, I warn her, “Do you want to soil your pretty dress before the party? You know how messy Luna can be.”
Naomi’s eyebrows knit together.
She's debating.
Her eyes bounce from mine to Luna's. It only takes her a few short seconds to make a decision.
“Sorry, Luna, no watermelon for you.”
Thank God.
Once everyone is safe and secure, I slide behind the wheel.
“We’re finally off,” I say, meeting my daughter's gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Hit the road, Jack!” Naomi shouts waving her little fist in the air.
No wonder I spotted a few strands of gray.
* * *
I was already tight on time. Luna’s little tantrum made it worse. This traffic jam caused by construction and roadblocks is my undoing. Instead of being a few minutes late, I slide the Range Rover into a parking spot in front of my daughter's school a whole half hour after the other kids.
Shit. What a nightmare.
“We’re in trouble. I doubt Mrs. Wexler is going to show me any sympathy this morning,” I say as I turn off the ignition.
“It’s not your fault, Daddy,” Naomi says.
When Renee Wexler found out I was a single dad, she was too happy to show me some leniency. She gets it. She's a single mom of two.
It takes me no time to unbuckle Naomi and thank God I don't have to plead with Luna to get her out of the harness.
“Come on, let's go,” I say, pulling my two girls behind me.
With a quick step, I reach the door.
“Uh-oh,” Naomi says before freezing in place.
I look down at her.
She looks worried.
“What is it?”
“Oh, no,” she says before dropping her eyes to her feet.
“What?” I repeat.
“I forgot something.”
“What did you forget?”
She doesn't answer.
I quickly scan my child, but at first glance, everything looks okay.
I lower myself to her level and place my hands on her shoulders. “Did you remove your underwear and forgot to put them back on?” I whisper. It wouldn’t be the first time.
She looks at me, horrified. “No, Daddy!”
“Okay, just checking. So what did you forget?”
“The cupcakes for the party.” Shit. “Mrs. Wexler told me to bring them.” I placed them on the counter not to forget, but between my breakfast fiasco and having Luna tag along, I forgot.
I do a mental calculation. It isn’t looking good.
“The traffic on the way here was really bad, Noni,” I say.
At this rate, it's going to take me half the morning to drive home and back. Without traffic, it’s forty-five minutes from Manhattan Beach where we live to Pasadena. I might have to reconsider the bus service for next year. Her school is a bit far, but it’s the best one in LA.
Jutting out her lower lip, she frowns. “Mrs. Wexler will be really mad and no one will like me anymore.”
She’s exaggerating, but she’s four.
I check my Breguet Marine watch.
What the hell is open this early in the morning?
“It's okay,” I reassure her. “Daddy is going to locate a shop in the area and I’ll be back with cupcakes.”
“It’s for the morning break.”
Damn, that's going to eat up a couple hours of work. I can't believe I forgot. “I’ll be back.”
“Promise?”
“How can I ever let you down, sweet pea?”
“Okay.” Her radiant smile is back.
“Let's get you to class.”
What a morning.
CHAPTER 2
Everly
“Are we ready, gang?” I ask.
“Yes!” everyone shouts.
“It's going to be another rocking Flashback Friday,” I say.
“She's right,” my cousin Callum agrees. “Let’s shows this city what we’re all about. We want to make sure every single customer that walks through our doors understands why Food TV celebrity chefs Shane Dennison and Riley Carrington have us on their list of favorite bakeries in LA,” he says.
“Hell, yeah,” the whole bakery cheers.
“Our fearless queen concocts the most decadent fillings and glazes—”
“Well, thank you, sir,” I do a little curtsy. “It's just a little sugar.”
“You know it's much more than that, Everly,” my cousin says.
“You’re a keeper.”
He grins at me. “Team,” he returns his focus to my staff, “it’s our job to sell the hell out of those little sugary bites. Who’s with me?”
“Hear, hear,” the whole bakery cheers.