"He'shere in New York, and he's sure to be spotted out and about with Paisley. I'm sure he's going to be parading her about so he looks like father of the year."
"And whose daughter will he say she is?"
Tabitha looks down. "I don't know. I'm not sure if they'll try to play her off as their child."
"Um, wouldn't someone remember Anastasia Jerome having a baby? I'm pretty sure it made news the last time she did."
Angie sighs. "They'll say she’s adopted. Or they used a surrogate. Surrogate my ass."
Tabitha's face is dark, her mouth downturned.
"Maybe he'll lie low to avoid such a conundrum, and you will be fine," I offer. It sounds stupid, even to me. Someone like Jonathan Spencer Maxwell will expect everyone to bend to his will.
It appears Tabitha already has.
"What if—"
"What if you mind your own business? Maybe it's time for you to leave." Sergei stands up.
This Sergei guy is a supreme jerk, and I've had enough of his crap. I shove my hands back in my pockets. "You're right. It's time for me to go. Tabitha, it was a lovely evening. I hope you get everything straightened out. Best of luck to you in your endeavors."
I pull the door open and then look back over my shoulder. "It was very nice meeting you. Good luck with the subway."
I don't look back again.
Speaking of which, I pull out my phone as soon as I'm outside to see what's the best way for me to get home. It's actually the bus, so I begin walking toward the stop on Rodney Street. The B24 will take me right up to Sunnyside.
Tabitha will never understand the subway system, let alone the buses. I let her down. Just as I let Grayson and The Edison down, though, truth be told, that one was probably not my fault.
I text Grayson.
So I guess Tawny Shane is out. Next choice?
I wish she had shown up last night. Then maybe she wouldn't have gone on a bender with irreversible consequences. Maybe I could have saved her.
Even as I think it, I know it's not true. I've known too many addicts to believe it.
But I wouldn't have met Tabitha.
As strange as this morning turned out to be, I actually had a good time last night.
A very good time.
Hell, if I'd known that I wasn't supposed to be getting her to audition, I probably would have had a better time.
I certainly would have been less grumpy to begin with.
I'd like a do-over.
I remember that look in her eyes when we were singing karaoke. I remember her mouth on mine, her body pressed firmly against me.
Yes, I'd definitely like a do-over.
Except I just walked away from her with no hope of contact again.
I'm an idiot.
Chapter 11: Tabitha
