Page 54 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

“Had it delivered to the suite while I was at my meetings. Didn’t want to disappoint.”

She reached out, adjusting the collar of my jacket. “You definitely didn’t.”

I held her gaze, staring into those big green eyes, her pupils wide, wondrous. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, and I stared at that too. I didn’t want to ever stop.

“Daddy, look at my tights,” Kenna said suddenly, breaking the spell. “They have glitter.”

“Oh, goody,” I muttered. “More glitter.”

Madison’s lips twisted. “At least it’s the hotel’s problem this time.”

My eyebrow arched. Fair point. “Have you two enjoyed your day out?”

“Everyone’s been amazing,” Madison gushed. “Especially Alfie. He’s been a brilliant tour guide.”

“Speaking of,” Alfie called from the couch, tapping his watch. “You three have a reservation to get to.”

“You’ll need these before you go!” Ronnie called, rushing over with fancy outerwear for Madison and Kenna. “To keep the chill off you.”

I took Madison’s long coat and held it out for her to slide her arms into. As soon as it was on, she bent over, helping Kenna with the fancy buttons on her peacoat.

“Guess we’re ready,” I said, offering Madison my arm. She took it, beaming. Kenna rushed ahead, wanting to be the first one in the limo.

“Have a fab time!” Alfie called after us.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Madison asked as I escorted her out of the warehouse to the car. “Or is this another surprise?”

I was getting the sense that she’d maybe had enough surprises for one day. “It’s a favorite restaurant of mine called Ancoats. They have a private dining room where they’re more than happy to accommodate Kenna. And the chef is a close, personal friend.”

“So he doesn’t mind whipping up some chicken fingers and french fries?” Madison teased.

“Exactly. Though Kenna is usually game to at least try something on the menu. Last time she quite fancied the sea bass. The tasting menu changes weekly, so we’ll have to wait and see what’s in store today.”

I pulled the car door open, Madison and Kenna carefully climbed across the seats to avoid disturbing their outfits, and then we made our way across the city. I offered my arm again once we’d arrived, helping Kenna out first, then Madison.

Together, we walked up the plush purple carpeting to the front entrance where a pair of security guards waited to admit us.

“Oi, Alistair!” a voice called loudly. “Alistair Shaw. Any sign of Jessica?”

My stomach jumped up into my throat, then dropped to my toes. Before we’d even crested the last step, a camera flashed.

Fucking paparazzi!

I blinked, waiting for the spots in my vision to clear, a cold dread icing through my veins. It was quickly replaced by white-hot fury. I whirled in the direction of the voice, stepping in front of Madison and Kenna, prepared to face off against a storm of cameras.

But there was only one guy.

One measly little man. Not a barrage of photographers. Not the crowd of journalists clamoring for a headline I was used to seeing. But that just meant we needed to get the hell out of here before the rest of them turned up.

“Come on, let’s talk,” the guy called, lining me up in his viewfinder again. “Any updates on the stolen money, or are you still dodging questions?”

Security rushed forward before I could say anything, blocking the paparazzo from getting near us, but it was already too late. He’d taken the photos he wanted and gotten a reaction out of me. All I could do now was stay under control and keep from giving him more.

“Sir,” the security guard at the door said, pulling it open and waving us through. “This way, please.”

I ushered the three of us inside the restaurant before any more words could be exchanged or any more photos could be taken. If the paparazzo was desperate to sell my image to some tabloid, then fine. But I wasn’t going to allow Madison or Kenna to be splashed across some sleazy front page.

I rubbed my eyes, standing in the lobby of the restaurant. Christ.