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I startle, sitting up. “What?”
He’s staring down at our daughter, his eyes fixed, searching.
“Danny, what is it?” My heart starts beating fast.
“She smiled.”
“No, she didn’t,” I say, laughing. “It was probably gas.”
“I’m telling you, Rose, she smiled at me.” He pushes his face closer to Maggie’s “Didn’t you, girl? Go on. Smile for Daddy.”
We both watch, as Maggie’s arms flail and she makes a few snorty sounds.
And then it happens. Only small, only brief.
But she smiles.
“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Danny says quietly, mesmerized. “Fuck, I love you, girl.” Kissing her forehead, he settles back, lifting an arm for me to join him, and I watch, awed, as he talks all the smiles out of our little girl.
So deadly.
14
PEARL
* * *
I hear the distant sound of a car pulling down the driveway. Allison. Perfectly dressed, precisely groomed, flawless makeup, hair like she’s literally stepped out of a salon.
Not a bed.
Brad’s bed.
The bed I was in a few nights ago.
I flinch, taking my pen to my mouth, chewing the end. That whole situation was so contrived. Everyone knows Brad doesn’t have company at the house. Was he actually trying to prove a point? Make me jealous? Jesus, and they say women are complex creatures. He kisses me, he curses me. He pulls me close, he pushes me away. He looks at me like he wants to jump me and kill me.
Obviously he’s struggling, and I hate that I understand why. He might see me as a child—for fuck’s sake—but he’s the one behaving like one. Regardless, I need to give Brad Black a wide berth. I’m not deluded. He’s incapable of anything beyond sex and killing.
It would be awkward.
He might send me away.
And that alone is enough reason for me to resist, and since Brad’s clearly adverse to me, we should be good. Does it sting that he ran from me to someone completely out of my league? Sure. But I will guard my emotions, the ones that have felt exploited and mistreated—because that’s what I learned to do many years ago. Protect. Hide. Be safe.
Brad Black will no longer be on my radar. Allison is welcome to him.
I spread the catalogs out on the table and open my laptop, pulling up my spreadsheet and clicking my pen as I scroll through sites I’ve bookmarked to show Rose and make a note of the stores to visit. This project is a lifesaver. Something to do that doesn’t involve being at the club. Or thinking about?—
I shake my head and start making notes in my journal, chewing the end of my pen, screenshotting endless images of sun loungers, design ideas, and lighting. This place is going to look incredible.
Someone enters the kitchen, and I lift my face from the screen of my laptop, smiling, ready to greet whoever it is.
My smile drops.
And so do my eyes to my laptop. What the hell is he doing back here? “Morning.” I force the word, clicking my way across the screen.
“Morning,” he grunts.
