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“Hey,” Presley said. “I’m calling to check in after last night. Is everything all right?”
“Yep, it’s great.” Okay. Lie.
Presley didn’t need to know that Cora was still mulling over what happened with Aidan. Lord, she hoped he’d forget about her running out last night. After Dmitri came to talk to Cora before she left Club Sin, Presley had said that she hadn’t told Aidan anything. Not that Presley had anything to tell, so what did Cora have to worry about?
Her secret was still hidden.
That’s all that mattered.
“Okay, I’m glad you’re good.” Presley hesitated. “I’m only going to ask this once, and then I’ll stop bugging you. But do I need to worry about you?”
Cora leaned her hip against the wall, pressing the phone harder against her ear. She watched her nephew pull out magazines from the holder next to the couch and throw them up in the air. “Of course not.” She paused, feeling a pang in her heart. Presley was such a good friend, and the phone call to check in only proved that. “If something was wrong you know I would come to you.”
“I hope you would,” Presley said softly. “So, you will, if you need to talk?”
“You got it.” Cora waved her finger at her nephew. He grinned, unashamed, as he pulled the cushions off the couch and started to pile them up on top of one another. “Thanks for worrying about me, sweets. But I’m okay. Really.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Presley’s voice lifted. “Any plans for the day?”
Cora watched her nephew climbing the cushions, hoping he didn’t fall. She’d been around him enough at family dinners and the few times her sister allowed her to babysit to know he was a freaking monkey. At least the cushions were soft. “I have a house full of crazy kids.”
“Your sis is over?”
“Nope.” Cora watched her nephew bulldoze the cushions and then jump on them as if they were lily pads. Julia was quietly coloring a drawing in her book while lying on the floor. She missed the paper a few times and colored the hardwood floors instead. Nothing a little cleaner couldn’t fix. “I volunteered to babysit this morning so Cass and hubby could have a brunch date.”
“How nice for them,” Presley replied. “And how nice of you.”
A sudden head popped up in front of Cora, and she laughed as her other niece was making funny faces at her. The seven-year-old brunette with the cute curls looked and acted more like Cora than she did Cassandra.
Poor Cassandra was in for it when her daughter became a teenager.
Cora said into the phone, “After the kiddos leave, I plan to go shopping. Wanna come?”
“Buying something sexy?” Presley asked.
“Well, of course.” Cora stuck her tongue out at Hannah. Her niece gave a full-out belly laugh. Nothing matched the laughter of a child—so sweet and pure, it made Cora laugh, too. She said to Presley, “I’ll come get you at three, okay?”
“Sounds good. See ya later.”
“Bye.” Cora clicked the off button on the phone and returned it to the coffee table. She smiled at Hannah. “Yes, were you trying to get my attention?”
Hannah bounced up and down. “Can you do my makeup again?” Her light brown innocent eyes, surrounded by thick lashes, peered up at Cora. “Mommy never lets me.”
She tapped Hannah’s button nose. “When you are here, you can do anything you want.”
“I love you, Aunty Cora,” Hannah exclaimed.
Cora knelt down and hugged her. She had always wanted children, and thought she’d be a fun mom. Though how could she dream of that now? She was in love with a man who couldn’t possibly give her a future. Still, she had many childbearing years ahead of her, and she held out hope that one day Aidan would forget the past and live in the present.
In his own time …
She leaned away from Hannah. “I love you, too.” Gathering the young girl in her arms, Hannah giggled as Cora stood. “Let’s go get into the makeup and make Mommy really mad.”
Chapter Five
Blocks away from the famous Fremont Street, Aidan swiveled in his chair to face the large windows on his right. He leaned against the backrest, lacing his fingers behind his head. The sun burned brightly, and Aidan was glad to be in his office, surrounded by air-conditioning. The afternoon sun looked scorching hot.
He stared out into the dry Vegas desert, preferring the scenic view as opposed to the Vegas strip. His father, Edward Knight, owned the office building where his law firm was located.
