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“I have to run,” Rook says from behind me. “I’m sorry, everyone.”
Abby waves her hand in the air with a smile. “Not a problem, boss. We all understand.”
We do.
There are a lot of single men in Manhattan and it stands to reason that some of them are on that hookup app. I’ll find one of them to fantasize about, so there’s at least a chance those fantasies become reality.
CHAPTER SIX
Rook
“Dammit,” I whisper as I step off the elevator and into the lobby of the building that Abby and Declan live in.
I was just about to toast Carrie’s success when Chesca interrupted.
I never ignore a call from my ex. I can’t. That’s especially true when Kirby is with her.
I ring her back because the call cut off when I boarded the elevator to make my way down. When Declan asked my opinion on his plan to purchase an apartment in this building, I told him I viewed it as a sound investment.
That still holds true.
You can’t go wrong if your address borders Central Park, but the cell service in the elevator is shit. That’s par for the course in a building built over a century ago.
“Rook,” Chesca answers in a breathy tone on the third ring.
It’s her commercial voice, as I’ve always called it. Since hitting it big as a supermodel, she’s landed a few commercials that have aired all over this continent and Europe, too. She’s become one of the most recognizable models for Liore Lingerie, and since they launched video ads on social media, Chesca’s notoriety has hit new heights.
“Is she all right?” I don’t mince words because there’s no need for that.
Chesca called me a few minutes ago because our daughter is in distress. All she said before the call cut out is that Kirby is upset and needs me. I didn’t need to hear more than that in order to cut my evening short.
Kirby comes first in my life.
“No,” Chesca answers succinctly. “Her little heart is broken.”
It’s not the first time my ex has said those words to me. Kirby is a sensitive child. Her heart breaks if she spots a dead butterfly on the sidewalk or misplaces a sock.
I happen to adore the fact that her heart is as open as it is. She cares deeply for everyone and everything around her. Apparently, tonight, something struck a chord inside her and sent her into her bedroom at Chesca’s with tears running down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the obvious question.
“Maura is under the weather,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “She’s not up to taking the Boston trip with us.”
Maura is Kirby’s nanny. She’s been with us from day one. Kirby loves her endlessly, and I’m fond of her, too. In many ways, she reminds me of my mom.
“Under the weather?” I repeat back the generic phrase that can mean anything from a mild head cold to a full-on bacterial infection that requires hospitalization.
Unfortunately, Maura has succumbed to both during her time with us.
“It’s the flu,” Chesca fills me in. “I told her to go see her doctor tomorrow. Maybe they can give her a shot of something to perk her up. I need her to be on that plane to Boston with us.”
I shake my head even though Chesca can’t see me. “She needs rest. Take the Boston trip without her. Your folks will help with Kirby.”
“Sure, but…” Her voice trails.
“But what?”
“But Kirby wants you tonight,” Chesca admits in barely more than a whisper. “Can you swing by and pick her up? You know how much she loves her dad hugs.”
