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In the end, she was right. I didn’t have anything resembling an alibi. If anyone came sniffing about Rodion’s death, I wouldn’t have had a convenient explanation.
But I should have dealt with him immediately afterward. Instead, I’ve spent the last two days distracting myself and steering clear of Piper.
No more. This is my house. I won’t hide from anyone.
She and I need to have a talk.
67
TIMOFEY
For the first time in two days, I go looking for Piper.
Usually, at this point in the evening, she’s working at the kitchen table or curled up with a book on the sofa.
But the living room is empty and the kitchen and dining room are too littered with remodeling equipment and supplies for anyone to sit there.
Akim is overseeing the repairs to the kitchen after the fire so, naturally, it has gone wildly over budget and is taking far too long.
“The kitchen is my office,” Akim argued. “When my office is nice, better things come out of it. That means you eat better food. It’s a win-win.”
Akim could make a five-star meal over a trash can fire, and we both know it. Still, I’ve been too overextended to argue with him. If a ridiculously expensive stove keeps him off my back right now, then so be it. God knows I have the money to spare.
Sighing, I head up to Benjamin’s room.
His door is closed, which isn’t surprising. It’s late, and he’s finally started going down at a reasonable time every night now that Piper is in charge of his schedule.
I crack open the door. He’s lying in his crib, arms tucked into a swaddle blanket and a pacifier hanging out of his open mouth. I watch his chest rise and fall to the rhythm of his quick breathing.
Once things calm down, I’m going to be around for him more. Once he is officially, legally mine, I’ll make sure he has the childhood I never had.
Convinced he’s fine, I close the door and head down the hall to Piper’s room.
I push her door open without knocking and prepare to see her scowling over at me, annoyed by the intrusion. I figure I’d prefer her annoyance to her wide-eyed surprise. Or worse, excitement. A smile from her would undo the last two days of avoidance.
Instead, the room is empty except for the warm vanilla scent of her shampoo.
That’s when I hear the shower running. Water splashes on the tiles, and Piper is humming off-tune. It might as well be a siren call.
I close the door behind me and step further into her space. Steam swirls through the crack in the bathroom door like a finger beckoning me forward.
There’s a lot at stake. I know that.
But what would one more fuck hurt? It’ll soften her up before I tell her about her new stalker.
Maybe, every time I deliver bad news, I make her orgasm first. It can be part of the business arrangement. An extension of our professional relationship.
I’ve almost convinced myself that whatever complications come afterward will be worth it if it means holding her tight, supple body against mine one more time.
Then I see her purse lying at the end of her bed.
A few folders and a small book spill out of the wide mouth onto the comforter. One folder has Trish’s name at the top. The first page inside is her intent to relinquish her parental rights, with her illegible scrawl at the bottom. I nod in grim satisfaction. Grant won’t like it, but it will be best for him in the end.
The next folder has my name printed on the label. I crack it open and see Piper still hasn’t written a single word in Benjamin’s case file.
It’s not the glowing recommendation I’d like, but blank pages are better than a recommendation for removal. This means Piper still has time to make the right choice. An empty document means I don’t have to eliminate Piper as a threat to my end goals.
Yet.
