Beddable Billionaire. Alexx Andria

poo. Well, if you’re going to be like that, then no, I already have plans.”

      I laughed, shaking my head. “You know you can’t take Grady to a drag show. Most are held at a bar.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a private show, and mostly kid-friendly. I think.”

      Yeah, I wasn’t about to take the chance. “Not this time,” I said, chuckling. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Grady to be safe with Ronnie, but sometimes my friend didn’t think about how impressionable a six-year-old was, and learning how to effectively tuck a penis wasn’t a skill set I needed my son to pick up anytime soon. “No worries. Enjoy your show,” I said and clicked off.

      That left my mom.

      Ugh. My mom and I were often on opposite sides of everything. For example, my mom thought I ought to be going after Grady’s dad for child support even though I’d explained that it was better for Grady and me if Houston wasn’t involved. I wasn’t about to poke the sleeping bear. Houston was content to pretend that he didn’t have a son, and I was totally fine with that. But my mom saw only the potential dollar signs floating out the window.

      “He needs to take responsibility for his son,” she’d said during one of the many pointless arguments on the subject. “He has enough money—he needs to pay up.”

      “I don’t want Houston around Grady,” I’d replied, hoping the conversation was finished. “We’re better off. Houston isn’t exactly ready to be a father.”

      “You should’ve thought of that before getting knocked up,” Ellen Hughes disparaged with a cool look. “If your father were alive today...well, let’s just say he’d be having words with that young man.”

      I winced, hating when she brought up the subject of my dad. “Leave Dad out of this,” I warned. “The man has earned his rest after being married to you for thirty years.” It was harsh, but things tended to slip out when I argued with my mother.

      “Lauren Elizabeth Hughes, you watch your mouth. I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful.” My mother’s mouth pinched as she added disapprovingly, “A boy needs his father.”

      “No, he doesn’t if that father is a useless playboy who cares more about partying than raising a child,” I returned sharply, giving my mother “the look” as I finished putting away Grady’s toys. My mother took the hint and gathered her things to leave. “Do you need me to call a cab?” I asked helpfully, but my mom was already out the door.

      So, yeah, I wasn’t super excited to have her babysit.

      I could always bring Grady with me.

      The thought popped into my head almost as a joke, but then I realized maybe that was an excellent idea.

      I doubted Nico would try anything inappropriate with a six-year-old boy in attendance.

      Maybe I was risking my mom card for using my kid as a shield, but the idea had merit. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was a viable solution to a sticky issue.

      With Grady there, I could keep the conversation on point and I could also use Grady as a legitimate reason to leave on time.

      I’d get my interview and escape with my integrity.

      Problem solved.