The Sidewalk Incident

18. The Daddy Incident

The trip home is decent. I thought things would be awkward between James and I after the previous night's events but as always James keeps things professional and pleasant enough. He doesn't say a word about our moment in the cigar lounge nor the revelations about my past.

I feel mentally and emotionally drained from this New York trip, but feel somewhat comforted in knowing I can trust James. I'm not sure why though, it's not like he owes me anything. But we do have an NDA in place so perhaps we are just legally bound.

I slept during the entire flight back to LAX and crashed in the backseat of the Uber as well. But I startle when James shakes me awake.

"Charlotte," his voice is almost panic-stricken, "there are emergency vehicles outside your apartment block. We might need to help."

We are thrust into doctor-mode but once James speaks to the captain of the fire brigade, we are quick to learn the crisis has been dealt with.

"A gas leak??" I ask in shock, "But I live here."

"Oh, thank God!" I hear the familiar Scottish accent of my dad's voice.

What?

"Dad?"

My heart sores when I see the two people I love most in the world as they emerge from their Land Rover Defender. Trust the two Brits in the country to drive the most British vehicle in L.A.

As always they look amazing, even in their tracks and chilled lounge wear. But they do appear slightly frazzled.

"Charlie Girl!" Sebastian hugs me tightly. "We got a call from your super' saying there was an emergency evacuation of the apartment building. He couldn't get hold of you. And I tried calling the hospital but they said you're off. So we panicked."

"Oh, my phone must have been—" I rummage through my bag, "Yep. I forgot to turn it back on after we landed."

"Landed?" Sebastian looks confused.

"I was in New York. For work? I'm sure I mentioned this?"

"No, I'd have remembered."

"They've managed to get most of your belongings and consumables out of the apartment using the master key. Charlotte, there was barely any food in your house—" James returns and stops abruptly when he sees my dads. "Oh, hi... you're Charlotte's dads, right?"

Oliver raises a quizzical eyebrow while Sebastian looks downright amused.

"Ah, you must be James." My dad, Oliver, says in his thick Scottish accent. "I'm Oliver. I remember you from Charlie's Harvard days."

"Nice to meet you, sir." James shakes Oliver's hand politely and I internally freak out.

"And, this is my other dad, Sebastian."

"You can forgo the sir business with me, Jamie dearest, and just call me daddy."

"Jesus Christ, Dad!" As one can surmise, Sebastian is the less reserved parent.

"What?" Sebastian asks, eyeing James up and down, and nodding his approval. "Remind me again, why are we we supposed to hate him?"

"Actually... James and I are... friends." I butt in before James can say anything. "Work friends. We called a truce."

"Does the truce involve sneaky trips to New York City, and wearing each other's jumpers?" Sebastian doesn't miss a beat. James covered me with his jumper while I was asleep and I pulled it on when we arrived.

"It was a work trip, and besides, that's not the issue right now. Wait, where's Hannah?" I look into the backseat of the car, where the child seat remains empty.