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“But I am still her mother. She is my daughter. And I have every right to claim her.”
Morgan held back the language he wanted to use right now. “Just the way you say that—‘claim her’—sounds like you are referring to a piece of real estate.”
“Hey, buddy, I gave birth to her. Remember? She came out ofmybody. You have no right to say she belongs to you.”
“Seriously? I’ve taken care of her from day one. And I don’t want to ‘own’ her. All I want is to raise her in a healthy, stable, and loving environment. As opposed to…” Morgan trailed off, catching himself. He had gotten confirmation that Fawn was doing drugs again and hanging out with the kind of unsavory characters she’d always had a weakness for. He felt sorry for her husband. But he needed to save that info on her as a surprise in their legal fight.
“What?” she said. “Go on. Say it. As opposed to…?”
“Fawn, there is no point in going over this subject.”
“Coward,” she spat out.
He sighed. “We end up in the same place every time. I’ve got to go.”
“You still didn’t answer me, Morgan. As opposed to…?”
“This conversation is over.”
“See what I mean? You really are a coward. All this bodyguard and self-defense bullshit you’re into? It is nothing but a front.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Underneath you’re not so tough. The street fights you had, or say you had when you were a teen. All your so-called military heroics. You probably didn’t even really get a purple heart. More bullshit. Truth is you’re a pussy.”
Morgan heaved out a tired sigh. “All right, this conversation is so over.”
“Not yet.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait! I have one last thing to say to you.”
“Countdown. Eight, seven, six, five…”
“This new guy I’m seeing? He’s ten times better than you were in bed and he’s a fighter too. In fact he could kick your sweet little ass all over the street.”
“Four, three, two…”
“He even offered to do just that if I ever decided I want him to. In return for the way you’ve treated me around Ciara. And when you—”
“One.” Morgan pressed the button to end the call.
11
It was three days since Christmas and Blake knew her avoidance time was up.
She had to give Lydia Hanlon an answer before the New Year and either schedule the interview or tell her she could not take the job—a professional position that was a dream come true.
Morgan had a company party tonight that Blake would be attending with him as his fiancée, and because Laken Raines was his business, they had to stay until the end. So Ciara would be spending the night at Harper and Marni’s house.
Blake had asked Morgan to be the one to drop Ciara off with Marni this evening. She did not want to answer any questions about how it was going, and she knew her sister-in-law would not ask Morgan. Harper might, but luckily he was working at the bistro tonight.
The past three days had been rough. Morgan did not come to her room, and the couple times Blake had decided she needed to go to his room to talk, she had chickened out. She was not proud of that, but she simply could not make herself face him no matter how many times she’d rehearsed the things she would say. So they went on in a pseudo-friendly routine, neither one willing to breach the wall they’d put up between them, and surprisingly, Ciara did not seem to notice. Possibly because she had been too upset after the gift from Fawn had arrived.
The supposed Christmas present was a set of lipsticks from a brand that used Fawn in their ads. Probably perks the company gave her. Blake could hardly believe the woman did not even know Ciara was too young to wear lipstick. But the worst thing was the card that came with it, that read: “Next Christmas you will be living with me, your one and only Mommy!”
That message had turned Ciara into a ball of fear and anger. It had taken a lot of effort from both Morgan and Blake to settle her down and convince her it would not happen.
