Whiskey and Regret - Danielle James Page 0,32

you need to get ready for school, Frankie.” I aimed a finger at her and she pouted as I expected.

“I’ll get ready if you do the Creep dance.”

“Nah. No. Not happening.”

“Come on, Frank. I’ll do it with you. We’ll put it on Tik Tok.” Miss Lucas looped her arm with Frankie’s and just like that, the smile was back on my baby’s face.

“Wait, you let her call you Frank? You bit my head off when I did it and you were in the third grade.”

“Xari’s cool, Dad.”

“Told you.” Xari stuck her pink tongue out at me and I fought the urge to say what was lingering on the tip of my tongue.

“I’m cool,” I said instead.

“No. You’re not. Embrace your cringy-ness.”

“Let me hear you say cringe one more time, little girl…” I snagged Frankie’s slim body in a bear hug then tickled her sides until her face was red and her eyes were wet. As long as she was still laughing, I knew I had her.

“Aw, tickling isn’t fair,” Xari laughed.

“Everything is fair when you’re at war.” I shoved Frankie over on the bed while she caught her breath. “Don’t ever forget who the king of cool is.”

“Oh wow,” Miss Lucas winced.

“Daddy, you did not just say that. King of cool? Ugh. My life…”

“What? King of cool. That’s fine to say. Did I break a cardinal cool rule or something?”

“The good times just don’t stop with this one.” Miss Lucas fell over on Frankie’s bed and laid on her shoulder. My mind immediately took a snapshot of the moment. It was a rare one where Frankie didn’t seem too withdrawn or attached to her phone. She was in the moment. I loved how she looked when she was present.

Then there was Xari. Wild curls running free, an ear-to-ear grin, and those fucking pajamas showing her perfect, tight waistline. I hung onto her sunburst navel ring and wondered what else was pierced. I already knew her nipples weren’t because they were hard as fuck last night and I didn’t see an outline. That didn’t mean she didn’t have a pierced pussy.

Just the thought of Xari Lucas’ pussy was enough to threaten a stiff dick.

Thankfully, my phone broke up the moment.

Any semblance of a hard dick was obliterated when I heard Alexis’s ring tone playing in my pocket.

“Y’all gone make me lose my mind! Up in here! Up in here!”

“It’s your mother,” I said, showing Frankie the phone.

“Oh my god, is that Mom’s ringtone? That’s Ja Rule, right?” Frankie asked.

“Ja Rule?” Miss Lucas and I said in unison with a matching recoil.

“Forgive her, Xari. She has no idea what she’s talking about.” I laughed while Xari stared at Frankie like she had two heads.

Fuck. I called her by her first name. I’d have to deal with that later and I knew it didn’t slip past her ears.

“Alexis, hello.”

“I’m here, Van. Open the door since you had the locks changed.” I passed a hand over my face and rushed to the front door. Alexis’s sculpted features had softened a bit since I saw her at the courthouse. I guess her injections were settling.

“Good morning,” I said, letting her in.

“Where are the papers you need me to sign?”

Upstairs, Frankie squealed followed by Xari laughing uncontrollably. I looked above my head and sighed.

“Did you let her have a sleepover on a school night? And I’m the irresponsible parent. Whatever,” Alexis grumbled.

“She’s not having a sleepover. Let’s focus on why you’re here. I need you to sign the papers saying it’s okay for Frankie’s nanny to pick her up from school.”

“You’ve already hired a nanny without consulting me?” She stormed into the kitchen and started opening cabinets and checking the fridge.

“Can you stop rummaging through my kitchen, please?”

“Your kitchen? I designed this kitchen. It’s my brainchild.”

“Can you sign the papers, Alexis?”

“Where is my pizza stone, Van?” She blinked at me, wielding almost a foot of false lashes that made her look like she belonged on Sesame Street instead of in my kitchen.

“Papers, Lex. Concentrate. They got you pumped full of Xanax?”

“Fuck you, Van. I’m not signing shit until I meet this nanny. Let me guess, you rescued a little sob story from getting deported and let her watch my kid without my consent. Can she even speak English?”

“Wow. You’ve reached a new level of miserable. Tell your surgeon to pluck out a few more ribs since you don’t need them to protect a heart you don’t have.”

“Whatever, Van. No deal with the papers unless I meet

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