Page 53 of Unplanned Target

Allie swivels in her chair, turning to face me. “What about Becca?”

“Do we know if Becca’s good at math?” I don’t know much about Becca, outside of her claim that she and my brother are in a ‘committed relationship’. Whatever in the hell that means. I’ll believe it when I hear it from Tony’s mouth, because he’s had as amazing of a track record with dating as I have.

If we take my failed marriage out of the equation.

Allie shrugs. “No, but she looks like she’d be good at math.”

I start to argue with her, but she does have a point. If being good at math had a face, it might look like the adorable, dark-haired woman who is very protective of my brother.

Protective enough, she hasn’t left his side since Eli essentially locked him in a room.

The measure was warranted, and probably required, so I’m not faulting the physician for his methods. I’m sure my brother freaking hates it, which is what landed him there in the first place.

“How do we ask her?” I’ve stayed away from Tony since my current situation seems to be his primary source of upset. I hoped that without my face, or Owen’s, to get him wound up, he might actually take a minute to relax and try to feel better. I’ve got to guess it’s working, since he hasn’t gone storming through the property in search of a fight since the day he showed up banging on Owen’s door.

“I bet Heidi will give you Becca’s number and you can text her.” Allie wiggles her brows. “You and Heidi are basically best friends now.”

“We’re not best friends. We’re just regular friends.” Which is still pretty nice. It’s not just romantic relationships that have been lacking in my adult life. I’ve also not had many girlfriends either. Most of my time has gone into building my business and taking care of Allie and our home. I was so busy I never really noticed the lack. But in the time I’ve been here in Nashville, I have started to really see how much my life was lacking.

And how much weight I was unknowingly putting on my daughter. It wasn’t the same sort of burden my own mother blessed me with. I do everything in my power not to make Allie feel like she’s too much or like I resent who she is as a person.

Unfortunately, I think that might be part of the reason I ended up making her my only person. I wanted so much for Allie to know that I love her and think she’s fucking fantastic, that she’s ended up being almost the entirety of my social circle.

And that’s not fair of me to put on her. I don’t want her to feel responsible for my happiness. That would basically be doing the same thing my own mother did, just in a different way.

And that’s a big fat nope.

“Let me see if that’s information Heidi would be willing to hand out.” I pull out my new phone, opening up the private app Alaskan Security uses to communicate. After firing off a quick message to the woman who is doing her damnedest to help me reclaim the business those unnamed pricks tried to steal from me, I turn to my daughter. “Are you hungry?”

It’s lunchtime and I skipped breakfast, choosing to spend the morning streamlining the processes I use for work. Not having any actual clients to take care of has offered me the time I should have probably already taken to update my practices and evaluate my rates and requirements. Does any of that make me money? Not right now. But hopefully someday it will.

If I can ever figure out how to get another client.

“I’m starving.” Allie grabs her laptop, closing the lid and tucking it under one arm as she follows me out of her room and downstairs to the kitchen.

I’ve always enjoyed cooking, and having access to a kitchen has helped my time here feel shockingly close to how I felt in my own home. It’s also nice that I can order pretty much anything I want for the fridge or pantry, and no one bats an eye. Probably because there’s always leftovers in the fridge, and I made it clear they’re fair game for anyone who wants them.

And everyone definitely wants them. It’s a rare occurrence for me to come downstairs and find any remnants of the previous night’s dinner remaining.

Today is no exception. The vegetable beef soup I made last night is gone and I’m not mad about it. I’ve eaten leftovers religiously for a decade. With it just being Allie and me, there was always extra, and I did everything I could not to let it go to waste.

It’s sure as heck not being wasted now.

And that means I get to make something new and exciting every day. Often for lunch and dinner. Love that for me.

While there are no leftovers in the fridge to pilfer, new groceries have been added to the shelves since last night, which offers an abundance of options. As I peruse, I rattle off a few of the things I could whip up for us, and my daughter settles on paninis.

I’ve just loaded the first sandwich into the press when the door of the connecting hallway opens. I’m expecting to see Eli or maybe even one of the construction workers helping update the building. I know better than to hope it could be Owen. Every time that door opened the first few days, my heart skipped a beat, only to sink when it wasn’t him.

And it’s not him this time either. It’s also not Eli or a construction worker.

It’s Becca.

She gives Allie and I an awkward wave. “Hi. Heidi said you wanted to talk to me.”

I guess that answers my question about whether or not Heidi will dish out phone numbers. I understand and appreciate it. That means she’s not passing mine out either.

“Do you know math?” Allie doesn’t hesitate to pose her question. “My mom sucks at it, and I need help with my homework.”