“Hungry?” “Starving, actually.” “Hopefully the birthday boy is too because I made a lot of food.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Nervous?” I ask. He drops his hand. “Is it that obvious?” “No,” I lie. His eyes narrow. “Right.” “Everything will be fine.” “He’s been…tough.” “Well, he is your son after all.” He shoots me a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” “You think I’m smart?” “Don’t go fishing for compliments. It’s unattractive.” Frown lines cut across his forehead. “I was curious.” “About my opinion? Wow. You must be really desperate for
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