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“Right.” I smile and take a sip of my water. “I was a young fighter and met this woman, Carla. She was nineteen and what we call a ring bunny.”
Maeve laughs. “Of course, you do. That’s not sexist at all.”
“Oh, it totally is. I was twenty. What the fuck did I know? Anyway, Carla was cute and paid me a lot of attention. We hooked up a few times, and the next thing I knew, she was pregnant. By that time, she’d moved on to a different fighter, a guy named Danny Ost. He’s still in the business. Anyway, she made it clear that she had no interest in a kid.”
Maeve’s eyes widen.
“At first, she talked about aborting it. And it’s not that I don’t believe in a woman’s right to choose, but I sat her down and told her that if she’d carry it, I would be responsible for it. Carla didn’t come from a stable home. She would have had zero help. And, yeah, I could have taken the easy way out, but something in my gut said: Do this.
“So, what felt like the blink of an eye later, I had this tiny pink thing to take care of. I wasn’t willing to stop fighting—and thank God for my parents. Seriously, they’re saints. I bought them a house and retired them both early. If I could do more, I would. Because they brought Rachel into their lives, and they love her as much as I do.”
“Of course. My family would do the same.”
“I can see that,” I agree.
“Does Rachel ever see her mother?”
“Carla comes and goes. She’s a free spirit, but she checks in with Rach now and then. Rachel just can’t depend on Carla to show up when she says she will. And last year, she embarrassed Rachel at school. She showed up out of the blue and sat down at the lunch table with her. So, Rachel’s figuring out what kind of person her mom is.”
“You’re a good dad,” Maeve says. “A lot of people would talk a lot of crap about a parent like that.”
“Hey, she did what I asked. She had the baby. That’s all I ever wanted from her.” I scribble my name on the credit card receipt. “So, that’s about it for my family.”
My phone rings, and I glance down to see Rachel’s name.
“This is Rachel. I have to take it. Hello?”
“Dad, I need you to come get me.”
I narrow my eyes. “From Gram and Gramps’?”
“No.” Her voice is thin. “I snuck out. But I—”
“I’m tracing your phone right now. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. Are you safe?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
I click off and swear under my breath.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I have to go get her. I’m sorry.”
“What for? She’s your daughter. Let’s go.”
We hurry through the restaurant and out to my car so I can check my phone to see where my daughter is.
“She’s on my last damn nerve.”
“You said that before. Has she been in trouble?”
“Yeah. That’s why we’re moving to the island. She’s always in trouble lately. Her friends are awful. She’s defiant. And she’s started to give my parents a hard time. She just admitted to me that she snuck out of their house tonight.”
I feel my jaw clench in anger.
“Speaking of, I’d better call them.”
I make the call on Bluetooth in the car, and my dad answers.
“How are things going on the island?” he asks in greeting.
“They’ve gone well, but I’m in Seattle. I came into the city to have dinner with Maeve.”
“Oh, the woman you told me about?”
I feel Maeve whip her head to stare at me. “Yes, that’s the one. Listen, I just got a call from Rachel. She snuck out and needs me to come get her. I’m on my way.”
“Damn it,” Dad mutters. “Hunter, I swear to you, we’ve been on that girl like white on rice all damn day.”
“She’s sneaky. And I’m over it. When I’m done with her, she’ll think being a nun is liberating. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Please do.”
I click off as we approach a gas station, the exact location of the red dot on my phone.
“What’s she doing here?” I mutter as I pull in and see my daughter standing by the front doors, waiting.
“Uh, should I get in the back?” Maeve asks, dubiously eyeing the minuscule backseat. The Rolls is a little sportster, not really meant for hauling around more than two people.
“No.” I pull to a stop and climb out of the car to address my daughter. “You’ll have to climb into the backseat.”
“Who’s that?” Rachel demands.
“My friend.” Jesus, I’ve never introduced my daughter to a woman I’ve dated before. As far as she knows, I’m an eternal bachelor. “Backseat.”
I hold my seat forward for her to slip behind. Once she’s squeezed into the back, I reenter the car and pull out of the gas station parking lot.
