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Blake took one selfie after another trying to decide whether to send something funny or serious. She wanted to amuse Ciara, but their meeting was also going to be a job interview. And she hated to admit it, but imagining Morgan looking at whatever picture she sent made her even more self-conscious.
She finally decided just to reply with a text that read: “Can’t wait to meet her too! See you tomorrow at 10!”
4
Ever since Ciara was born, Morgan had been making one decision after another with butterflies in his belly. Starting with the decision to raise her on his own when Fawn had up and split on him. She had even suggested they put the baby up for adoption. That was the day Morgan decided to engage an attorney.
He had loved this child from the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the hospital and promised himself he would protect her and take care of her with every ounce of his blood.
And now Fawn thought she could just step into Ciara’s life and become instant Mommy—on camera. Who knew what would happen to Ciara behind closed doors? Rage surged inside him every time he thought of the possibility of his precious daughter being left at the mercy of that totally selfish bitch.
Not gonna happen.
He climbed the stairs to the second floor and headed down the hall to the room he had chosen for Ciara. Unlike his bedroom and the one he would give to Blake—if things worked out today—Ciara’s room had no balcony patio. The risk of his nine-year-old being careless and taking a two-story fall or of an intruder climbing to a balcony entrance were risks he would not take with his daughter.
Overkill, maybe, since he had arranged to have wrought iron security fencing installed around the perimeter as soon as he closed on the property. But Morgan did not like to take chances. He had seen one too many chances end up bad.
“Hey, little angel, have you forgotten that Blake is coming over this morning?” Morgan stepped into the large bedroom and smiled down at Ciara who was on the floor sorting through a box of toys. He’d had the room painted turquoise, her favorite color.
“Of course not.”
“Do you like your new room?”
She bounced to her feet and gave him one of her signature hugs that was like a magic serum that kept him going in life. “I love my room! And look.” She took his hand and pulled him to the sunny window. “Those leaves on that tree are starting to turn yellow. I’ve never seen leaves turn color. Except in books and movies, but never for real and right outside my window.”
He nodded. “One of the drawbacks of living in SoCal.”
“And all those trees out where the yard ends? When they all turn colors I’ll have a tree rainbow to look at.”
“Yeah, when I was a kid, Aunt Aileen used to collect the prettiest leaves and press them in the pages of a book. Of course, they were usually my books so I’d be reading something and end up with a dried crumbling leaf all over me.”
Ciara laughed. “Why did she put them in a book?”
“I think she intended to put them under glass in a framed collage, but my sister had a habit of starting projects and forgetting about them. Like a lot of people.”
“Not you.” She gazed up at him, her expression serious.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “You never, ever say you will do something and then forget. Never, Daddy.”
Once again Ciara rendered him speechless. Having his little girl tell him he was doing something right was better than winning the lottery.
“So, when is Blake coming?” she asked.
“She should be here any minute.”
Ciara twisted her lips. “Do you think I should change my clothes? These pants are kind of wrinkled from sitting on the floor.”
Morgan got an image of Blake in the most horrendous pair of wrinkled baggy paint-speckled cargo pants he’d ever seen on a woman. “I don’t think she’ll care what you are wearing.”
Ciara raced to her dresser and opened a drawer. “But I don’t want her to change her mind and not want to be around me because I’m too sloppy.”
His heart tightened in his chest and he cursed Fawn for every seed of self-doubt her abandonment and indifference had put in his daughter. “You are not looking sloppy, sweetheart. Everybody gets a little wrinkled now and then.”
But she took out a fresh pair of leggings and a new shirt and went to her en suite bathroom to change. When she came out—dressed in brown leggings paired with a yellow and brown jersey—he said, “Is that an autumn fashion statement in honor of your tree?”
Ciara giggled. “Yes! You always get it, Daddy.”
