Think Outside the Boss - Olivia Hayle Page 0,29
Just people milling about, a child holding cotton candy. In the distance, I can make out Toby and Quentin by a Whack-a-Mole.
“Oh,” Joshua says weakly. “She came.”
“Of course she did,” Tristan says. “Go on, let’s talk to them.”
But they’ve already seen us, apparently, as a middle-aged man and woman with a girl the same age as Joshua walk toward us. The girl is smiling, her wheat-blonde hair in a braid.
“Hello, Joshua,” she says in an accented voice. French?
“Hi,” he murmurs.
“This is your dad’s place?”
He doesn’t say anything. Tristan cuts in, extending a hand to the parents. “Tristan Conway, Joshua’s father. Thank you for coming.”
“Thanks for inviting us,” the lady says, and she’s definitely French. “We haven’t met any parents from Danielle’s school yet.”
“No, people like to keep to themselves. But I’m sure there’ll be a chance to meet others soon,” he says. “There’ll be a bake sale or walk-a-thon soon enough.”
Okay, this is my cue to leave. Not only have I met his son, but now I’m trespassing on his socializing with other parents.
I take a careful step back. “I’ll see you—”
“Do you want to go on the Ferris Wheel?” Joshua asks Danielle. His voice is high. “It’s really tall.”
“Oh, can I, Mama?”
“I’ll go with them,” Tristan says. “I’ll be in the carriage behind theirs.”
“Why not? We’ll be by the hot dog stand, Danielle.”
Joshua turns to me. “You and Dad can go in one carriage and Danielle and I in another.”
“I’m not—”
“Sounds good,” Tristan interjects.
“Will you take care of this?” Joshua hands me the stuffed elephant and I grip on to the plushy. The long trunk drapes down my arm. I open my mouth to protest, but the kids are already heading for the Ferris wheel. A light hand on my back and Tristan is directing me after them.
“Sorry about this,” he murmurs.
“No, that’s okay,” I murmur back. The Ferris wheel isn’t that high, is it? It’s in Central Park. We’re not talking Six Flags here.
I should be able to do it.
I can do it.
“These were your special guests?”
“Yes,” he says. “Danielle’s a friend of Joshua’s from school.”
“I didn’t know you had a son.”
His breath is quiet, but audible. “I know.”
“I’m sorry if I… intruded back there. I take it you don’t like mixing business with your private life.”
“No,” he says, “I don’t.”
“Anonymity. I get it.”
As he opens the latch for the Ferris wheel, he gives me a dark look that sends shivers down my spine. The guy manning the attraction motions for Danielle and Joshua to have a seat in their carriage, and the kids bundle in, chatting the whole way.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Tristan tells them. “Call out if you need anything at all and sit still in the car.”
“I know, Dad,” Joshua calls back.
Tristan extends an arm to our carriage. “After you.”
My hands grip the elephant tight. It’s just a Ferris wheel, Freddie. And I personally read the amusement fair’s safety guidelines before I booked them. What can go wrong?
I step into the carriage, sitting down on the cold metal bench. It wobbles precariously as Tristan follows me in, folding his long legs into the space. His thigh presses against mine in the tight confines of the carriage.
The attendant closes the metal latch behind him, stepping back. “Everyone ready?”
No, I think. How do I get off this?
“Yes,” Tristan calls back.
The mechanics churn into action and our carriage swings with the sudden jolt of movement. I grip the metal bar in front of us and focus on the heat of him next to me, evident even through the thick fabric of our coats.
“This turned out really well,” he says. “You’ve done a great job.”
“Thank you.” We start our ascent, the people and stands beneath us shrinking with every inch we rise.
I close my eyes.
“Now you’ve met Joshua.”
I nod, my words emerging through clenched teeth. “He’s lovely.”
Tristan clears his throat. “I don’t talk about my family at work. Not at parties either.”
“I understand. Anonymity, and all that.”
“Yes.” He shifts in the carriage and it rocks beneath us. I press my lips into a tight line.
There’s no way I’m opening my eyes until we’re safely back on the ground.
“Freddie? Are you all right?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“You’ve gone completely white.” His voice lowers, and when he speaks again, it’s closer to my ear. “You don’t like heights.”
“Not a member of the fan club, no.” One breath in, one breath out. That’s all I have to do.
“Why on earth did you come up here with me?”
I give the stuffed animal in my grip