4. Were Getting There
WERE GETTING THERE
“You’re home early,” Ian said later that day.
“Yep. Slow day.”
Which seemed to be most of the time.
Fletcher should be happy that he wasn’t dodging bullets, chasing bad guys, seeing all the slime and horror in this world.
He got out at mostly a normal time.
He was able to have a good relationship with his kid that he’d missed out on for too long, even if this teenage phase wasn’t easy.
But it was exactly as he thought he’d be. Bored out of his mind.
Maybe if he had something he could sink his teeth into, it’d be better.
Yet the highlight of his week was escorting a scared twenty-eight-year-old in gambling debt trying to make a buck out of the building.
“Like, what do you do? Sit in an office or something reading reports?” Ian asked.
His son rarely asked about his job.
“Not likely,” he said. “Though I do that too.”
“You don’t talk much about it. Can you? Or aren’t you allowed to? You told me no one can know who you work for and I haven’t told anyone.”
Kids slip and Ian was used to knowing he couldn’t talk much about his father’s job before. This wasn’t much different.
“Can I shower and change first? I thought I’d cook unless you want to go out?”
“We can stay in,” Ian said. “Unless you want to go out.”
“I’m good with cooking. See what there is and take it out.”
He left the kitchen of their two-bedroom condo. When he got this job, he moved from the apartment to a condo closer to his job.
His job afforded him the opportunity to get his kid into a private school.
He thought for sure Ian would reject the idea, but strangely, he was open to it.
Once Fletcher was in his room, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the hamper, then ditched his pants and tossed them in the same direction. He picked his shoes up and put them on the shelf in his closet, his eyes going to the line of suits that he used to wear daily.
Though they felt like a second skin to him back then, he didn’t miss wearing them now.
He’d shown up in one the first day and West said it was his choice, but he wasn’t that formal.
He didn’t need to be told twice and ditched the jacket. But that meant his gun was on his ankle since he kept it concealed.
It was not like there was a need for him to have it at his hip, which would make the jacket a requirement.
Once his gun was off his ankle, it was put in his safe with his others and locked up.
He grabbed a change of clothes and walked into his bathroom in his underwear.
When he returned to the kitchen fifteen minutes later, there was beef on the counter.
“Burgers okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’ll get the fries out and put them in the air fryer. Can we put cheese sauce on them?”
“I guess, if I can find a recipe to make them and have everything.”
“I can do it,” Ian said. “I watched a video on it. I stopped and got what we need when I was coming home.”
“Then go right at it.”
He learned months ago his kid liked to cook.
It’d taken time for Ian to open up more and they were getting there.
He didn’t blame his son. The divorce was hard on everyone.
And Ian felt as if Fletcher had gone back on his word by not retiring when he said.
But paying for a divorce and supporting two households just was too much.
He needed something to ground him until things settled and he thought Ian understood.
Maybe not as much as he realized though.
While he formed the patties, he moved out of the way and let his son get out heavy cream and a block of cheese. God, he hoped his stomach could handle that.
It really bites to get old.
It reminded him of Paris commenting on a bellyful of chocolate and her stomach not appreciating it.
Not that she was old. Nope.
Thirty-one. Going to be thirty-two in a few months.
He knew those things about her, like she’d guessed. He wouldn’t lie about that fact.
What was the use? It was part of his job.
Part of looking into the twins’ careers when West was bringing them on.
Not that he thought West wouldn’t since the twins were first cousins. But he still made sure he got everything he could on them and how they operated.
That wasn’t cold. That was just business.
While Ian was busy whisking butter and flour in a pan, he grabbed another for the burgers, the two of them working side by side.
Normally he was good with the silence, but that wasn’t what his son needed.
“How is school?”
“It’s only the first week,” Ian said.
“I know. I asked how it was.”
Ian shrugged.
That could mean many things. He didn’t want to guess.
This was harder than his job was.
“Got any of your friends in your classes?” he asked.
“A few,” Ian said, concentrating more on the food.
He’d try a different tactic. “See any other recipes you want to try? Maybe we can this weekend?”
“Really?” Ian asked, turning to look at him.
“Sure. I don’t mind sharing this chore.”
Ian snorted. “That’s just your way of getting out of it.”
He smirked. “As the father of the house, it’s my right to get out of it, but that’s not the case at all. You’re sixteen now. You need to have some responsibilities.” He put his hand up when Ian opened his mouth. “And you do. You do a lot around here and I appreciate it.”
His son did his own laundry. He picked up after himself most times, but his room was a mess.
He gave up on that. The kid deserved to have one space be his and be the way it felt the most comfortable.
As long as it didn’t stink and nothing was being destroyed, he’d keep his mouth shut.
It wasn’t as if Fletcher had to sleep in the room or that they had any guests over. At least he didn’t, but Ian had friends who came over.
“Thanks,” Ian mumbled. “Mom never paid attention to anything I did.”
He didn’t want to go down that road again, but he wouldn’t shut his son down.
“Have you talked to her lately?”
It was the only time this came up.
“She called earlier. She wanted to know how school was. I told her I doubt she cared.”
“That’s not true.”
“She only calls when she’s alone. She even said Zach was out of town for work.”
He sighed. His ex’s new husband was a political consultant. Someone she’d met after they’d divorced.
Lorraine didn’t seem to emotionally bond to the guys she was screwing behind his back. It was only physical to her.
But Zach was different. Zach could give her the life she said she wanted.
Didn’t seem it was much different from his job since the new husband was on the road more once they moved to DC.
Not his problem.
“If she’s trying, then maybe you should too.”
“I’m not sure why I have to try. She’s the whore.”
He couldn’t bite his tongue. He might have wanted to agree, but he wouldn’t do it in front of Ian.
“Hey. What happened between your mom and I is between us.”
“Dad. She cheated on you,” Ian argued. “She purposely caused fights with you for years. I saw it. How could you not see it?”
He wasn’t going to lie. “I did see it. But you look past things at times.”
Because he felt guilty that half the time what Lorraine said was true.
He was gone a lot. He was working. Sometimes the job came first.
“You’re a better person than me. I wouldn’t put up with that for anyone.”
“And I hope you aren’t ever in that position,” he said.
They went back to cooking their dinner in silence.
It was better than trying to explain marital issues to a kid who got the short end of the stick.
When they were done, Ian brought his plate to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher, then went for the pan he made the cheese sauce in.
Was it good? Yep.
Did he feel like he might be sick with all the fat sitting in his stomach?
Hell yeah.
“I’ve got it,” he said. “I appreciate you helping. We make a good team.”
Ian held his stare, then broke into a half smile. “Maybe I’ll see if there is something we can try this weekend.”
“You do that,” he said. “When I’m done with this, I’m going to hit the gym. Want to join me?”
He wouldn’t be bothered by the wariness in his son’s eyes. “Why? Because you think I’m weak and need to bulk up?”
He reached for his son’s bicep. “Nope. It’s getting there. You’re bigger than I was at sixteen. Just thought I was going down and offered for you to join me, but you can stay up here and play video games if you want.”
It hadn’t escaped his notice that his son was working out. Probably sneaking down to the gym in the building while he was at work all summer.
He might not do Ian’s laundry, but little things like his son’s sneakers were always left by the door. Not the casual ones that he wore around the city, but his trainers that were for gym class.
Or the athletic shorts and T-shirts he pulled out of the dryer when Ian forgot about them a few times.
“I wouldn’t mind going down,” Ian said.
“Then give me ten minutes to clean up and change. After that dinner, I need it.”
“It was good though,” Ian said. “Admit it.”
“It was great. Heavy, but great.”
“It’s not like you need to stay in shape like you did at your last job. Right?”
“Doesn’t mean I still don’t do it for my health.”
And his sanity.
“I guess. You really were skinnier than me at my age?”
“Yep. My arms. Man, the girls, they picked on me. In college I said no more. Had a gym on campus and put myself to work and never looked back.”
“I’m glad there is one here,” Ian said. “This place is so much nicer than our other place. It’s a bachelor’s pad.”
He squinted at his son. “It’s not why I bought it.”
“I don’t care why you did. I love it here.”
“Then I’m glad. Now go change and be ready to go down when I am.”
He finished up, turned the dishwasher on, changed his clothes, grabbed his phone and they rode the elevator down together.
When they got to the gym, it was pretty quiet.
“Doesn’t look like it’s the place to be on Friday night,” Ian said.
“Which is good. I like it when it’s quieter. I’m assuming you’re good on your own? If you don’t mind, I could use a spotter at some point.”
His son smiled. “Yeah, I can do that. You can spot me too, right?”
“Of course.”
Ten minutes later, he was on his back, pressing the weights up over his head, back to his chest and up again and praying to hell his kid could help if he needed it and wasn’t just acting cool.
“Dad,” Ian said when he helped put the weights back. “That woman is watching you.”
He sat up and moved to some more weights to add. “Don’t stare.”
“I’m not. But she is. Maybe you should go talk to her.”
He wouldn’t turn and look. He didn’t need to.
He saw who his son was talking about. Someone he’d seen in here before and she’d been watching him then too.
They’d even nodded or greeted each other before.
He knew damn well she wanted to chat, but he wanted no part of it.
He was here to work out, not to mingle.
And now she’d know he had a kid.
When he climbed back on the bench though, he caught the woman’s soft smile rather than a decision to look away.
He wasn’t interested.
Besides, that woman didn’t have blonde hair, legs up to her ears and wasn’t named after a city in France.