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A minute later, she had on a clean diaper. But she still needed a new outfit. I found a sleeper with long legs and snaps from top to toe. The material was light enough for a late summer night.
Once Esmé was cleaned up and wearing fresh clothes, I cradled her in my arms and wandered around the kitchen searching for a place to dump the gross diaper. There wasn’t a trashcan in plain sight, so I started opening the lower cabinets under the counter. Finding most of them empty, as if no one even lived here, I gave up and left the stink bomb on the counter as a thank you for Mr. Shaw being such a jerk. Just thinking his proper name in my head irritated me.
“Let’s go exploring,” I whispered into Esmé’s ear. She looked at me and batted her lashes. She was a cutie pie. It was hard to fathom a mother walking away from such an angel. I adjusted her headband, fluffed up her wisps of blond hair, then kissed her forehead. Her skin was so soft.
There were two hallways off the kitchen. I chose the one closest to me to start my adventure. The walls were lined with framed artwork. Each had geometric type shapes with various splashes of bright colors. They had probably cost more than my college education. I’d learned a few things while taking Justice to the Museum of Modern Art.
At the end of the hallway, there was a door cracked open. I peeked inside the room and saw a large bed with a low black headboard extending from wall to wall. Above the headboard was a solid wall of glass, like the living area and kitchen. If I was lying on the bed, I could sit up on my elbows and look out the window.
I walked toward the window and stood beside the head of the bed, wanting to see the view for myself. It felt like I was looking down at New York City from a helicopter. It made me dizzy at first.
Esmé became still in my arms, so I looked down to see if she was all right. Her eyelids closed and opened, slower and slower by the second. I rocked her back and forth in my arms to help her fall asleep, staring again out at the billion-dollar view.
Hearing a noise behind me, I raised my eyes, meeting Lucas’s reflection in the glass. He loomed behind me in his slick black tux, his hands on his hips, his jaw tight and chin held high.
I pretended not to see him and continued to rock the baby. Her eyes were fully closed and her breathing was even.
I waited for Lucas to speak. I wouldn’t give him any help. He needed to break the ice and win back my respect—if that was even possible.
“You shouldn’t be here, Peaches. I’ll find someone else.” His voice was distant, matter-of-fact.
I turned around to face him, my shoulders standing tall with the baby nestled next to my chest. So what if I’d never seen a man more beautiful than him, it was only skin deep.
“I have three things to say.” I took two steps closer to Lucas, tilting my head back to look into his icy blues. “One, you’ve lost the right to call me by that name, Mr. Shaw. Two, I’m not going anywhere. Esmé needs someone to care for her and that someone will be me. Three, I wasted the word ‘serendipity’ on you. I should’ve kept it at goodbye.”
I placed a hand on my hips, giving him a stare that could peel paint off a wall. Someone needed to call him out on his crap and that someone was me.
16
Lucas
Peaches’ emerald eyes flashed at me like jewels, stirred on by the passion she felt against me. She had no idea how right she was on all accounts. I didn’t deserve to be in her presence after how I acted when Barclay was here. Dismissive and cold, to downright rude, but I had succeeded.
She loathed me—Lucas—not the Herb version of me she met two weeks ago. He didn’t exist in this version of my world or any for that matter. Her lip curled into a slight snarl before falling into a straight line, like she wanted to throw more condemnation at me, but it wasn’t worth her energy.
Her stubborn chin, tipped up in defiance, showed me she wasn’t afraid and would bravely endure my cruelty for the kid. It also told me any hope that she’d hand the child back to me and run from the apartment was lost.
There was no escaping her for the next two days. And being around her and hiding my feelings required more determination than an Olympic athlete. Fortunately, I had twenty years of training as a selfish prick.
