“How many does that make now?” she asks, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. “You really do go through them.”
I keep my voice even because Penelope is somewhere inside and because Halsey enjoys any crack in my composure like it’s a personal goal of hers. “It’s harder to keep help when I need them as often as I do.”
Her mouth curves. “Poor you.”
“When only one parent actually follows the custody schedule, it tends to make planning childcare harder.”
Her expression changes by a fraction. Most people wouldn’t catch it. But I do. I know her too well, inside and out, spent too much of my life on her. “Don’t start acting like I’m some deadbeat because I have a life.”
A hot reply climbs up my throat. I force it back down.“Penelope needs consistency,” I say.
“And too many women cycling in and out of her daily life is consistency?” Halsey asks. “That can’t be good for her, Grayson. It’s confusing. I think other people would say the same.”
There’s a sweetness to the words that would fool anyone who hadn’t lived with her.I know exactly what sits under them. A threat— the same threat she throws at me any chance she gets, disguised in words or shouted behind closed doors. She loves dangling the idea of taking me to court over my head any chance she gets.
I can’t imagine it’s because she wants more time with Penelope. She probably just wants an even bigger cut of my money.
“She does have a new nanny,” I confirm carefully. “Carly is qualified, and she’ll be staying. I’ve fully vetted her and Pen loves her.”
Halsey’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Carly.”
I hate that I hear the satisfaction in her tone when she repeats the name, as if now she has something specific to file away and use later if the mood strikes.
“She seems to have made an impression,” she says.
Before I can answer, Penelope comes barreling around the corner in pink leggings and one sock, her coat hanging open and backpack half falling off one shoulder.
“Daddy!”
The word hits me square in the chest, and everything in me shifts on instinct.
I crouch before she can launch herself badly enough to knock us both over. She collides with me anyway, arms around my neck, warm and perfect and my entire heart in a very small body.
“Hey, bug,” I grin, zipping her coat the rest of the way before grabbing her shoes. She presents her feet one at a time for me to slip them on. “You ready?”
She nods enthusiastically. “I watched two episodes of Bluey and Mom let me have gummies.”
“Living large, huh?”
She beams.
I stand, taking her backpack from her, and keep my face neutral as I lock my eyes on Halsey. “She eaten real food or just gummies?”
“No. She was being picky. Told her she could just eat with you instead.”
Penelope is too busy telling me about a dog she saw out the window to notice the way my shoulders lock. “It’s almost bedtime, Hals.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t warn me that she’s on a pizza kick and refuses to eat anything else.”
“You would know that if you just—” I cut myself off, taking a deep breath to keep from arguing in front of Pen. “I’ll handle it. Good night.”
Her smile is small, forced. “Good night, Gray. Bye, baby.”
By the time I’ve buckled Penny into the back seat and pulled away from the curb, my jaw aches from how hard I’ve been clenching it.
“Daddy?”
I glance in the rearview mirror.
