Page 41 of Park Avenue Player


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My mouth hung open. It was, without a doubt, the most erotic photo I’d ever laid eyes on, and I was most definitely in a state of shock that he’d taken it. After a few very intense minutes of studying every nuance of the shot, I swallowed and finally managed to snap out of it. I needed to swipe and see if he might’ve left me something else. Unfortunately that was the only one—not that anything more was needed.

I had no idea what to make of this new revelation. I suppose his plan had been to up the ante in our little game. If I could leave something enticing behind, so could he.

But now things had changed; our game had been cut short by an abrupt ending. Which begged the question—what should I do with this now? Other than the inevitable—adding it as material for my own version of a spank bank: the rub club.Chapter 18* * *Hollis“Are you and Elodie mad at each other?” Hailey asked.

Mad wouldn’t exactly be the right word. Maybe pissed off, infatuated, displeased, obsessed, angry, captivated—though none of the things I felt about my damn nanny were appropriate to share with my niece.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Because you barely said two words to each other this week, and when she made me dinner, she only made enough for me and didn’t leave you anything to eat.”

Oh, yeah, that.

I shook my head and held up a hand to get the waitress’s attention so I could order more coffee. “We’re just busy, and it’s not Elodie’s job to cook dinner for me.”

My niece squinted. She was street smart, even at her age. She knew bullshit when she heard it. But I wasn’t about to explain the disaster I’d gotten myself into to an eleven year old.

“You know what I think happened?” she asked.

“No. But I’m guessing you’re about to enlighten me.”

“I think she likes you, and you were a jerk to her.”

My fork had been halfway to my mouth, and I froze. Seeing my reaction, my niece grinned from ear to ear. Son of a bitch.

Luckily, the waitress walked over and interrupted our heart to heart.

“I’ll take another coffee, please.” I looked at Hailey. “Would you like more chocolate milk?”

She nodded to the waitress. “Yes, please.”

I’d definitely noticed the addition of the word please to Hailey’s vocabulary the last few weeks. I wished I could say it was my doing, but it wasn’t. Elodie had been making good headway with her. Even this morning, Hailey had set an alarm to wake up early and then gotten herself ready for me to take her to sign up for some hip-hop lessons she wanted to take. A few weeks ago, her idea of an alarm was me yelling at her to get out of bed seven times.

Hailey finished off her chocolate chip pancakes in silence. I was relieved she’d seemed to drop the discussion on Elodie.

“Do they…let kids visit their parents when they’re in prison?”

Shit. Can we go back to talking about Elodie?

“I believe they do, yes. I think it depends on the reason the person is in prison. But I don’t know all the rules.”

She took the straw out of her almost-empty chocolate milk glass and lifted it to her mouth, tilting her head back to drink the last few drops. “So is my father allowed to have visitors?”

“I’m not sure.”

Her eyes had been looking anywhere but at mine. She took a deep breath and met my gaze. “Can you find out and take me to visit him if it’s allowed? Please?”

I didn’t know the right answer here. Should I take an eleven year old to a prison? Or would that scar her for life? Although maybe it would be worse to keep her from the only parent she had known for that long—even if he was a total loser. This was a decision I should definitely run by Elodie.

“Your dad is in Ohio, so it’s not like it’s a simple trip. Can you give me a day or two to look into it and think about it? I’ll be honest, I’m not sure that’s the best environment for you to see your father in.”

Hailey frowned. “I’ve seen him in worse. How do you think he found his way home when he was high? Sometimes I’d have to get him from those abandoned buildings where all the people sleep on dirty mattresses on the floor.”

Jesus Christ. I knew my half-brother struggled with drugs and stole cars, but I didn’t realize his daughter had to scoop him out of crack dens.

I nodded. “Give me a day or two. Okay?”

“Okay.”***Monday night Elodie was readying to make her now-usual rapid departure when I walked in. She pulled her purse to her shoulder, said goodnight to Hailey, and started for the door.

“Ummm, Elodie? Can I speak with you a moment, please?”

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