Page 192 of Trouble from Abroad
I do a curtsy, holding my imaginary skirt. “Thank you. I do my best.”
“You actually expect me to follow this?” His finger circles my messy but readable notes.
“Of course not. I expect you to grumble, roll your eyes, follow it anyway, then pretend it was your idea all along.”
For a second, I swear he almost smiles. Then he exhales through his nose and gives the plan a once-over, like it might be rigged to explode. “I’m not doing Pilates.”
“That’s fine,” I say, already peeling that Post-it off. “That was an add-on anyway.”
“Or massages.”
“On that one I’ll have to insist. I can share studies that show?—”
“I’m not negotiating, Mia.”
When I face him again, I’m all business. “But I am. So that means you have to come to the table. I dropped Pilates. I’m not scrapping the massages. We’ll reassess at the end of every week, okay?”
He nods, relieved. A bit too soon though.
“I’m not done, by the way.” I turn to the next page. “Here are a few more things to make your life smoother and ease your routine back to work.
Another info-dump in disguise with colored cards and pretty calligraphy hits him. “I’ll have a nutritionist come and do a meal plan for the family. He’ll also do a bunch of meal prep to save you precious time with Lily. You can stillcook together a few nights, but that’ll take the burden off, so dinner doesn’t become a chore.
“Next, I’ll book that meeting at her school. They need to know that Lily’s world has changed. And they need to be both sensitive and observant of her situation. Inform you if her behavior changes in any way.”
“Fuck, you’re right. Hate that I didn’t think of that myself.”
“There’s a lot on your plate, Preston. That’s where I come in, to help unburden you.” I tidy the papers between us. “Those are the things I can do for you. There are two very important ones I can’t.” I don’t give him long to regroup. “One’s at the end of your very successful month under new management—” I thumb toward myself, grinning. “Talk to the board. Ease back in. Start with two days a week, then three. See how it feels.”
“What’s the other?” Oh, wow. Look who’s listening. I’d smile if the subject in question wasn’t a hard one.
“You need to talk to Lily about Blake. April told me she doesn’t know the whole story and at some point, she just stopped asking.” He looks at the ceiling, and I don’t judge the cop-out.
“I know.” My heart splinters at how broken he sounds in those two words. After a beat, he knocks his knuckles on the kitchen island, putting an end to my presentation. “Thanks, Mia. That was… a lot.” He deflates. “A lot of good things in there, though. We can discuss more tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Doctor.” I salute him, easing us back into a lighter atmosphere.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
preston
The ceiling daresme to vacate my bed and face the day. And although I hate to admit it, there was some logic buried under the stationery explosion Mia unleashed on me last night.
I’ve been working out nonstop just to stay sane, getting those serotonin and oxytocin levels up the old-fashioned way. I’m well aware I need a structured routine with Lily if I want to go back to work. Having quality time with her while going back to being the Dr. Preston everyone is waiting for is the only way forward.
Ha. The nanny turned out to be an impressive PA. But she sure came in like a wrecking ball.
And if I’m going to live up to the challenge, I’m starting with the hardest part, the one that matters the most.
I head for Lily’s room, planning to wake her up myself, but their voices drift up from the kitchen and pull me off course. I follow the sound down the stairs.
“You’re up early, Lily.” She’s bright-eyed and buzzing at 7 a.m., pouring herself some orange juice with Mia’s help.
“Hi, Dad. Come, we’re making breakfast.”
“Good morning, Miss Thorne.”
“No proper tea in this house, and you’reMiss Thorn-ingme again. There will be no ‘good morning’ for you, sir.”
