Hot Mess - Elise Faber Page 0,26
Only this time, it was for a third reason.
The third being: he’d made coffee?
Really?
“Pancakes!”
Shannon shook herself and hightailed it into the kitchen, getting her butt into gear so she could make them all pancakes and she and Ry would not be late for the second day of school.
The pancakes weren’t her best.
But Ry and Finn devoured them anyway.
Then Finn gave her a fourth reason for continuing to reel—he demanded her spare key . . . and to do the dishes.
Maybe that was five reasons?
Either way, she and Rylie were out the door right on time, Ry’s lunchbox in her backpack, her lunchbox in hand, along with a to-go cup of coffee in the other.
All Finn’s doing while she’d been making the mediocre pancakes.
The man was . . .
Unbelievable.
And for the record, while she might have made middling pancakes, Finn’s coffee was anything but.
She took a sip of the hot, steaming beverage as she and Ry walked to school, listening to her daughter prattle on about some imaginary game she and Lizzy were going to play, all while wondering if it was the coffee that was outstanding . . . or if it was because Finn had made it.
Because Finn had been more of a partner in forty-minutes that morning, in a few moments over the course of a week, than Brian ever had been.
She knew she’d been missing a lot.
She’d just never known precisely how much until she’d met Finn.
“I’m not sure I can make this happen, Shannon,” Alberto said, resignation in his tone as she sat across his desk.
He’d asked her to come by his office after school and she’d just assumed that it was good news, that he’d been able to finagle some deal with Brian and the house, but the defeated expression on his face told her otherwise.
Shit.
She was going to have to move and—
No.
God, enough.
Why should she have to uproot hers and Rylie’s lives, just because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants?
“I asked for one thing,” she said, steel in her tone. “One. Thing.”
Alberto sighed. “It’s a big thing, all other issues aside.”
“No child support. No alimony. No retirement. No bank account. I pay the mortgage. I’m paying for his auto loan—”
“I didn’t advise any of that,” Alberto said. “In fact, it’s against my advice—”
“One thing,” she repeated.
Alberto sighed.
“He agreed,” she said. “He promised.”
“Promises aren’t always—”
Her fist came down on her thigh, the loud smack filling the room. “I know all about promises and how they aren’t always kept, but I don’t care about any of the other promises Brian gave me.” She exhaled. “None of them . . . except for one that enables me to keep this house.”
“I could possibly file—” He broke off, started making notes on his legal pad.
“Do it,” she said, reaching across the desk and covering his hand with hers. “Fight for me. I know I’m paying you to be on my side, to have my back, to protect me and Rylie, but please, you have to know this isn’t right. I need you to help me find my way through.”
Resignation was replaced with resolve. “I’m going to find a way through for you, Shan.”
“With the house?”
His mouth flattened out. “I’ll throw everything I have at him.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
They discussed a few more things then Shannon shook his hand and said her goodbyes, knowing that while Alberto hadn’t promised the house at the end of this process, that he had promised to fight.
And she was starting to realize maybe it was less about winning and more about that fight.
Stand up for herself.
Demand what she deserved.
Because if she didn’t, then who would?
Twelve
Scrunchy Faces Bring the Big Bucks
Finn
“You really didn’t have to bring us dinner,” Shannon said for about the tenth time since he’d shown up about thirty minutes earlier, BBQ burgers with extra bacon and barbeque sauce in hand for the adults, chicken fingers and applesauce for Rylie.
He might have asked Pepper for intel.
He might have also brought mint chocolate chip milkshakes because those were apparently Shannon and Rylie’s favorite.
“You’ve fed me multiple times already,” he said. Again. “Least I can do is bring you takeout one time.”
She made a face, but at least she stopped arguing with him.
Part of that might be because Rylie was happily slurping her milkshake and chowing down on her “Chicken nuggies!” as she’d called them. Apparently “nuggies” were Baby Yoda’s favorite as well, and since Lizzy had an older brother who was into Star Wars, Lizzy was into Star Wars, and because