It's hard sitting in that office, and he starts to feel a little paranoid, himself. What if the wind didn't do a good enough job of keeping the smoke away? What if they know he's high? Jesus, that shit was strong, he should have stopped halfway through, he is really flying high right now, wow, fuck, if they get suspicious this could go bad.

Fuck it, though, she's his daughter, he has a right to take her out of school for whatever fucking reason he feels like. This isn't some public hellhole after all, his mother pays good money to keep her locked up in here during the day. He can whisk her off on vacation if he wants to, fuck them.

Jesus, his mouth is dry. By the time he's finished refilling his little water cooler cup and chugging it back a third time, he hears that voice--for an instant, he almost smiles at her, and finds himself fighting it back very hard when he looks at her, his eyes sweeping her head to toe while he struggles to maintain his solemn look. Richard places a firm hand upon the back of Salome's neck, saying, "We'll discuss it when we get in the car, sweetheart. You're going to have to miss a bit of school, but everything should be-- all right."

With another brave nod to the ladies behind the counters, Richard bends his head over the sign-out sheet to scribble his signature, and then, with the hard workers of the school office telling them to take care, he guides her out to the car.

The minute the glass door of the building is closed behind them, he cracks a grin and gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. Then he pulls her close to plant a sharp, exaggerated smooch upon the temple of her forehead, saying, "Happy birthday, babydoll, guess where daddy's taking you?"