She rolls her eyes and chuckles like I’ve told a silly joke. Is this situation some kind of sick joke and I’m missing the punchline?
“If you don’t tell me what you’re doing here, I’m getting the police involved,” I say.
“And tell them what?” She gives a smug expression as if to saywhat will calling the police do?
“You’re stalking my daughter.”
She makes a disbelieving sound. “I’m her mother. I can see her at dance classes if I want to.”
Is this woman insane? “What part of ‘you’re not her mother’ don’t you understand?”
“We never had a legal arrangement of me relinquishing my rights as a parent. There’s no custody agreement in place. As far as they’re concerned, I have every right to see my kid. I miss her. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes.” The word shoots out faster than a bullet.
“I’m in a better place now. I can take care of her.” She rapidly blinks her eyelids. Is she trying to make herself cry?
“How does your husband feel about this? I can’t imagine he’d be happy to learn your five-month vacation eight years ago was really time away to birth a child. You hid a pregnancy with another man.”
She shuffles in her seat and spins her cup around. “He…arhhh…doesn’t know.”
Leaning back in my seat, I take a closer look at her. For someone who lives a multimillion-dollar lifestyle she’s not looking like someone dressed head to toe in designer clothes. She’s looking rough around the edges. She doesn’t screammoneylike the private investigator led me to believe.
Then it hits me. “Your husband left you, didn’t he?” Things are making sense. If she’s lost her money source, where can she get more? Fat chance getting it from me.
She taps her fingers on the wooden table. Her silence and the agitation on her face tells me I’m on target.
“Tell me why you’re really here,” I say. “And it’s not because you want Lily.”
“The bastard divorced me when he learned I had a kid while we were married. He left me with nothing. Nothing! How am I supposed to support myself?”
“Get a fucking job like everyone else does.” For a moment, I’m curious to know how her husband found out about Lily. I shake the thought away. I really don’t care. All I want is for Rachel to go the fuck away.
“I have had to get a job at a diner. Do I look like someone who should serve people food? And look what I have to wear—clothes from Walmart!” She shivers as if she’s said a dirty word. “Don’t get me started on the flea-infested apartment I have to share with two other women.”
She’s gotten what she deserves. “So, what you’re really saying is you want money.” My shoulders sag with a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief because this problem is fixable. She’s only here for money not Lily. Disappointment because Lily deserves so much better. She deserves a mother who loves her, cherishes her, and wants to spend every moment watching her grow into the incredible kid that she is.
Scratching the side of her neck like she’s brought the fleas with her, she says, “You have lots of money. I only want fifty thousand dollars to get me back on my feet.”
And prepare herself for her next sugar daddy victim. Behind her disheveled state, she’s still a beautiful-looking woman, so she could probably do it. Too bad her heart is rotten.
“Not going to happen,” I reply. Giving her money won’t make her go away permanently. When she’s blown through it, she’ll only come back for more.
She points a finger in my face. “I can take Lily from you if you don’t give me what I want.”
Hooking my arm over the back of my chair, I give off a relaxed demeanor. Inside, my blood is boiling. “You can threaten to take Lily until you’re blue in the face. It will never happen. Nor am I giving you any money. If you know what is good for you, you’ll leave New York City and stay as far away from me andmydaughter as possible.”
“I’ll go to the media and tell them you took her from me and haven’t let me see her. Who will they believe? You or a crying, depressed mother?” she gloats like she’s won the battle.
“Do you think I care if you go to the media? You still won’t get money from me.”
“Your reputation will be ruined,” she points out.
I shrug. “I don’t care. Tell them your story. Let’s see what happens when I give them the information I have on you. Who do you think will come out smelling like roses or shit?”
A flush of red stains her cheeks. “I need money!”
“Find yourself another sucker to get if from.” I stand, pull out my wallet from my pocket. Taking a ten-dollar bill out, I toss it on the table. “To cover your coffee. That’s all you’ll ever get from me.”
