As if reading her thoughts, Julia shifted in her seat and frowned. “Kelsey, I don’t want you to leave.”
“You’ll have fun with Hope,” she said, as she had several times already that day. “Besides, I’m going to come back Monday, as long as it’s okay with your dad.”
“Promise?”
“I can’t really promise without talking to your dad,” Kelsey said. “But I can say this—if I don’t see you Monday, I’ll make sure to come back later in the week. I won’t go without saying good-bye.”
“Good,” Julia said, her fixed gaze promising that she’d make sure Kelsey kept her word. “Where is Daddy?” Julia asked, restlessly switching topics. “Shouldn’t he be home by now?”
The clock on the microwave read six fifteen. The presentation had been that morning and the kids had been impatiently awaiting Ross’s return for hours. Hopefully his failure to arrive home was a good sign, and not a bad one.
Kelsey heard the rumble of the garage door opening. She smiled with relief. “Listen, that’s him now. Let’s make him a plate.”
Julia’s eyes widened with excitement. Matt broke off one end of the bread in an explosion of crumbs and blackened crust. “Should I scrape off the burned parts?” he asked, brushing bits of charred bread off the counter onto the floor.
“No time,” Kelsey said. “Just go with it. It looks great.”
She grabbed a fork and cut off a section of the pasta and added a glob of sauce on top, sending up a silent prayer that she didn’t either poison her boss or go straight to hell for lying to the children.
“Quick,” Julia said, jumping off the stool and running around to the refrigerator. She yanked on the door and pulled out a beer. “Give him one of these, too.”
Kelsey stifled a smile. “Great idea.”
Carefully, she set the bread on the corner of the plate. Then she twisted off the bottle cap and handed the beer back to Julia. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice a loud stage whisper.
Matt and Julia beamed. The back hall door, which opened into the garage, creaked, then swung wide.
“Daddy,” Julia squealed and ran down the hall.
“Give me a second,” Ross’s deep voice rumbled.
Kelsey steeled herself to look at him. When he came into view, he had a laptop case over one shoulder and a bag of groceries tucked under his arm. Kelsey knew instantly that something was wrong.
“Look, we made dinner,” Matt said, holding up the plate. “Alfredo.”
Ross set down the bag on the counter and looked over at his son. With his crisp white shirt, tie, and dress pants, he was every inch the successful businessman. But his shoulders drooped as if a heavy weight had been set upon them, and dark shadows shaded his eyes. With obvious effort, he smiled. “Hey, no kidding. That’s my favorite.”
Julia held out the beer. “You probably want one of these,” she said, nodding wisely.
“You have no idea,” he agreed, tipping it back and taking a long drink. “Where’s Luke?”
“Upstairs being a jerk,” Matt said.
“Matt, language,” Ross warned.
Matt shrugged. “What? It’s true.”
Ross shook his head. Kelsey had the feeling he didn’t have the energy to fight about it. “Try to have some sympathy,” he said. “Luke’s having a hard time with the move.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “I’ll say.”
“You haven’t tried your dinner,” Julia said, jumping up and down. “You have to eat it.”
Ross rumpled her hair. “I will, pumpkin, I promise. I just need to change my shirt first. Alfredo can be messy, if I remember right. And I don’t want to hold anything back.”
“Matt, I think we left the downstairs a mess,” Kelsey said, hoping to create some interference for Ross. “If you get started on cleaning, I’ll come down and help. Julia, you need to put away your puzzle. I bet by the time you get the basement cleaned up, your dad will be ready for dinner.”
“But I want him to eat it now,” Julia whined. “I don’t want to clean up.”
“Do what Kelsey says,” Ross ordered. “I’ll come down after I get changed.”
The children reluctantly headed toward the basement. Ross took another swallow of beer.
“Meeting didn’t go well?” Kelsey said softly, as soon as Matt and Julia were out of earshot.
“Oh, he offered me the contract,” Ross said. He continued staring in the direction the kids had just gone.
She paused. “And that’s not good?”
“Long story.” He blew out a breath, then gave a short, cynical laugh. “Or a short one, I guess. I tried to dance with the devil and got burned.”