Page 88 of Lance

“Hey, Layla,” I tell her, raising my glass. “Go fuckyourself.”

She grins across the table. “That’s more like it. Pissed off is much better thanemo.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re anutcase?”

She nods. “You have, actually. A number oftimes.”

“Yeah, well. I guess I know what I’m talkingabout.”

She takes a sip of her whiskey. “Okay, what’s going on with you? Is this aboutSimon?”

“You looked pretty freaked out about the tour plans the other day,” Dylan adds. “Are you stressing aboutit?”

I bring my whiskey to my lips, trying not to think about the last time I drank whiskey in a bar with someone. “Yeah. I mean, sort of.” I sigh again and Layla raises a warning finger. “It’scomplicated.”

“Try us,” Dylansays.

I set the glass down and look at them. “Angie’s mom came to see me the other day. She wants Simon to come and live withher.”

Dylan’s mouth drops open a little, but Layla is watching me with a shrewd expression on herface.

“Well, isn’t that a good thing?” Dylan asks. “I mean, a kid was never really part of your plan,right?”

“No. Itwasn’t.”

Layla is still watching me in that knowing way. “You don’t want him togo.”

I grab another napkin, twisting this one. “I just want to do the right thing by him,” I mutter. “I mean, wearegoing on tour in a few months. Is that a good environment for akid?”

“It happens,” she points out. “You hire a nanny and a tutor. The kid gets to see the country. People doit.”

“But wouldn’t he be better off in like, a normal house? With an adult taking care ofhim.”

Layla laughs. “You’re an adult,Lance.”

“You know what Imean.”

“You’re also his father,” she continues. “And as far as I can tell you haven’t screwed things up too badlyyet.”

“That’s all Willa,” Imutter.

“It’s notallWilla,” Dylan argues. “I mean, you guys looked pretty tight at Disney.” I look up in alarm, thinking he means me and Willa, but he continues. “It was pretty cool, the way you got him to go on that coaster. He really looks up to you. It’sobvious.”

I frown. “You thinkso?”

“Hell, even I’ve noticed it,” Layla says. “And I do not pay attention tochildren.”

Again I see his tear-stained face as he begged me to stay. Was that really about me? Or was it just the behavior of a kind of screwed up kid whose mom walkedout?

“What does your mom say?” Dylanasks.

“I haven’t told her yet.” For some reason the thought of telling my mother I’m considering it makes my stomach hurt. I have a feeling it’s not a decision she would be very proudof.

“What about Willa?” Layla asks, and I shoot her a glance, trying to read her expression. Is it possible Haylee told her what she saw? But Layla is merely watching me, lookingcurious.

“Willa thinks I’m a piece of shit,” Isay.

“No she doesn’t,” Layla says. “That girl totally has a crush on you.” I wince and Layla’s eyes go wide. “Hang on. Did somethinghappen?”