Page 28 of Daddy Issues


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“She’s—” Barclay stopped speaking and ran his fingers through his hair. “This is Magnolia Talbot. She’s my girlfriend’s best friend. I’m introducing her to Lucas to help with his new addition. You might have heard about it.”

“Oh…yes. I’d opened the door for him. Some guy was taking photos of him and a lady was asking questions.” The security guard shook his head. I cringed, thinking the media was hot on his trail.

“Well, she’s going to help him with his situation.”

“Miss Talbot,” the guard addressed me. “I’ll need to see a photo ID and take a scan of your fingerprints.”

I handed my Alabama license to the man, thinking maybe he’d understand my choice of clothing better. He gave it back to me and asked me to put my thumb flat down on a cell phone type screen. I wondered when they’d cuff me and lead me to the interrogation room. I guess the rich people who lived here were every thief’s bull’s-eye. For once, it made me glad I was a nobody.

My ears popped from the pressure as the elevator shot Barclay and me up to Lucas’s floor. Once the car stopped, I held my nose and blew out my ears.

“That was worse than taking off in a plane.” I moved my jaw back and forth, making sure my hearing was back to normal. “They need to work on the speed of that thing.”

Barclay led me off the elevator and stopped a couple steps after we exited. His face had the serious look of a teacher giving a final test in college. I kept my mouth shut and waited.

“Promise you’ll text or call me the minute you feel uncomfortable. You don’t owe him anything, but he owes you everything—mostly respect. Okay?”

“I’m sure H—” Crap, I barely caught myself in time. “Lucas will be too worried about the baby and all to even notice me.”

“Oh, Maggie. You’ve never seen him in action.” I wanted to tell him I had and he was nothing like the selfish man Barclay saw all these years.

“I’ll let you know if Lucas is too hard to handle.” I suppressed the smirk wanting to break across my face. It was a stupid joke and likely me just trying to relieve a tummy full of flittering butterflies.

There were only two doors on the floor. Barclay and I stood outside 54 A.

“Let me be the one to knock.” I had a plan. Barclay agreed, so I moved to stand in front of him. I closed my eyes and pictured Herb’s face. His strong jawline that fit his stubborn, gruff mood. Mesmerizing blue eyes hiding something sad behind the frozen ice.

I formed my hand into a fist and tapped on his door. I took a deep breath and held it as the door swung open.

15

Maggie

“Barclay. I’m so glad to—” Lucas stopped speaking the minute his eyes met mine. He blinked a few times and tilted his head, confusion written all over his face. It was if I was an apparition appearing at his door. He couldn’t believe it was me. I had a similar feeling when Tessa showed me his photo.

He must’ve been at a formal event tonight because he was dressed in a black tuxedo, looking even more handsome than I’d remembered him. If I thought he was deadly in a suit. I was wrong. Lucas was lethal in a tuxedo with his black tie undone and his hair looking as if he’d jammed his fingers through it a million times.

Lucas held a crying baby in a carrier seat, but all he did was stand and stare at me. I knew he would be shocked, but he was paralyzed and almost speechless.

“Peaches?” he whispered so low, I barely heard it.

“Wow,” Barclay exclaimed as he stood behind me. Thankfully, he didn’t hear Lucas’s slip of the tongue. “Looks like we arrived just in time. Lucas, this is Magnolia.”

“Maggie,” I corrected. I hated being called Magnolia. The name made me think of a little old lady knitting and sipping a glass of sweet tea.

“Yes, excuse me.” Barclay cleared his throat. “Maggie Talbot. Tessa’s best friend.”

Lucas’s eyes darted between Barclay and me, but I ignored him. There was a distinct aroma drifting out of the apartment that didn’t leave much to the imagination on why the baby was upset.

“Nice to meet you, Lucas,” I said as I walked forward, then squatted to unbuckle the baby from the seat. “Does she have a diaper bag?”

“It’s Mr. Shaw, and the kid’s stuff is on the kitchen island.”

Mr. Shaw? The kid’s stuff? What a jerk. He set the baby seat on the ground like he was already washing his hands of the child.

My head popped up. I didn’t like the way Lucas was glaring down at me. He crossed his hands over his chest. The transformation from the Herb I met at the coffee shop, the one who gazed down at me with soft eyes after catching me in his arms, was gone. Poof. In his place was a man with a cold, ridged, and unyielding exterior—the one he showed the world and somehow neglected to wear the day we’d met.

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