You tell him that I want his face on my video screen in thirty minutes or he can consider himself fired with no chance in hell of receiving a reference from me. As it is, I’d like to speak to Kelly when I’m finished with Ryan to see why the fuck he suggested him for the position in the first place if this is the bullshit he was known to pull. Why are we only hearing about this shit now when he’s been on assignment for the past twelve days? I needed to know these things before I trusted the safety of my one of my clients to an incompetent who allows a kid without proper documentation into Katana’s dressing room on just his word that he’s Katana’s son! Was he smoking something that I need to know about? If that’s the case, then he’s still fired but at least it’s half a good god damned reason for that kind of abject stupidity.
“Oh yeah, Daddy is pissed,” Tristan murmured.
“Is there anything that we can do to make it better?” I asked.
“Not until he’s finished with them. Then we can crawl in his lap and cuddle with him and have a little suckie, that really helps calm his nerves and settle him down when someone’s upset him,” Tristan explained. “If Mr. Phillip was here with his blood pressure cuff, it would prolly burst trying to get a reading on Daddy’s.”
I giggled at that, because I could picture the dial spinning with an angry red face at the center, steam streaming out of its ears as the needle fall off.
“Can you see it in your head?” Tristan asked.
“Uh-huh,” I replied. “With an angry face and steam and everything. You should draw him a picture.”
“Let’s draw it together,” Tristan suggested as he let go of me so he could retrieve his sketchpad and some colored pencils.
With the contents spread out in front of us, we stretched out side by side on pillows we hastily plunked onto the floor, a blanket over our feet to keep them warm as we started drawing. I really needed to get some socks the next time I was at a store that sold them. The weather was warm enough now, but when winter rolled around, I knew I’d want something between my feet and the wooden floors.
That’s how he found us when he returned to the living room, his hair standing out on one side like he’d been running his fingers through it.
“Oh good, I see you’ve found something to keep you occupied,” he said, looming over us for a moment. “I’m afraid I need to retire to the bedroom for a little while to deal with a bit of incompetence. There’s fruit and a few sandwich squares left in the fridge, though damn it all, those were made with the deli meat.”
I leapt up to give him a hug, snuggling against him when he wrapped me in his embrace and sighed. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “I can eat the fruit and a square won’t hurt me any if I’m hungry enough to have one.”
“It will be the last time you have to eat that crap, either of you,” he said as he opened an arm so Tristan could join us. “Just let me deal with this mess and you’ll be back to having my undivided attention.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Tristan said. “We’re coloring a picture for you.”
He hugged us tighter at hearing that and kissed the tops of both of our heads. “You guys have already made things a thousand times better.”
“Then we’ll have to shoot for a million when you’re done,” I said, feeling a little snarky.
When he threw his head back and laughed while squeezing us tighter, I knew it had gone over well. The few Daddies I’d known had never minded a teensy-weensy bit of snark from their boys, as long as no lines were crossed. It seemed like Mr. Roman might be okay with that too, as long as I didn’t go overboard.
“All right you two, back to your drawing while I go get ready to take a bite out of someone’s ass.”
“Wish it was mine,” Tristan muttered, prompting another round of laughter from Mr. Rowan.
“Go on now, get,” he said, turning us loose only to smack us both on our asses as we walked away. Nothing too hard, but it did sting a little, just like I imagined his teeth might if he ever bit into my bottom.
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