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She took a step closer and then another and put her hands on my chest. “That’s it? Not even a nice to see you again, or you’re looking well babe?” She pouted again and looked up at me. “How about we get a late meal and catch up.”

I took a step back, out of her reach and shook my head. “No thanks. I’m busy.”

“How’s Rosie?”

“She’s good. Happy.” And I wanted to keep it that way. “How’s your sobriety?” It didn’t take an expert to see she was on something, probably pills and booze, at the moment.

Those words had the desired effect. “Fuck you, Antonio. You think you’re so much better than me, but you’re not.”

“I don’t think anything about you anymore, Trishelle.”

She smiled and reached out to me again, her smile darkened when I pushed her hands away. “You wish that was the case, don’t you?” She smiled over her shoulder and that’s when I knew this was most definitely a setup.

“No, because it is the truth. How can I want a woman back who almost killed my daughter?”

“Our daughter.” She growled and stepped in close. “Don’t forget that.”

I laughed loudly, just in case she thought of using this footage for some nefarious reason. “Yeah, when was the last time you’ve seen our daughter? Not since you lost custody, so go sell your lies to someone who doesn’t know you. And if you think I’m signing a release, you’d better think again.”

She sucked in an outraged breath and turned on her four-inch stilettos before she stormed off, probably perfectly planned from the outset.

I shook my head and shoved my hands in my pockets before I took off in the opposite direction, happy to get out of this interaction with my ex without getting the cops involved. It was another reminder that I made the right decision when I divorced Trishelle, took Rosie and left Los Angeles. There was too much drama in that world, too many opportunities to make the wrong choices, the kind that could cost me my kid. My career.

As soon as I made it back to my hotel room, I called Rosie. “Hey Princess, how are you?”

“Hi Daddy! I’m good, and I’m behaving for Mr. Ollie. Me and Nurse Gus are making cookies. With chocolate and gummies and sours.”

I winced at her list and shook my head. “Sounds delicious.”

Rosie giggled. “Nurse Gus said it sounds gross, but princesses are the boss so I got to choose.”

“Did she?”

“Uh-huh. And we made hero sandwiches for dinner. I got to pick what I wanted too, like a big girl.”

I smiled as Rosie talked until she was breathless, telling me about her entire day in fifteen minute increments. “Sounds like you’re having fun without me.”

“I miss you Daddy, but you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“You know I can’t stay away from you for too long, Princess.”

“I know,” she shouted and then gasped. “My cookies are done, Daddy. Gotta go!” The phone fell to the ground and I heard Ollie groan.

“That girl of yours has more energy than ten children. God love her, but if I could bottle that energy and sell it, I’d be a rich man. Rich enough to split the proceeds with you.” He let out a rusty laugh that made me smile.

“Thanks again, Ollie.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Augusta. She showed up after her shift and she’s been helping me all day. Not sure if it’s because she doesn’t trust me with her, or if she wants to spend time with me. Either way, I’ll take it.”

“Did she say that she doesn’t trust you with Rosie?”

“No,” he grunted. “But she must have better things to do than help her old man babysit.”

“Emphasis on old, Ollie. Maybe she was worried you’d overdo it with Rosie, and it sounds like she was right to worry. You sound exhausted.”

“I’m always exhausted,” he insisted. “I’m old.”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Hearing my daughter’s voice and talking to Ollie, were just more signs that I did the right thing by moving back to Jackson’s Ridge. Where else could my little girl have a surrogate grandfather happy to pitch in at the last minute to help out? She was thriving in my hometown, and so was I. I needed the reassurance after my run in with my ex-wife, and I got that with just one phone call to Jackson’s Ridge.

It was fun to do these small trips to get a taste of the life I gave up, to spend a little time in someone else’s kitchen and make a little cash in the process. It was a nice little vacation, but I couldn’t wait to get back to Rosie.

To Jackson’s Ridge.

To Augusta.

Gus

“Antonio. What are you doing here?” It was a nice surprise to open the door and find the sexy chef on my doorstep wearing a sultry smile that went perfectly with his jeans and white t-shirt, a look that only made his tattoos look more vibrant and stunning.

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