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“Checkmate,” I say quietly as I move my queen.
“It took you long enough,” she remarks with a sigh.
“I told you I would be gentle with you. But you’ve become better. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
We have dinner, and I help her with her homework. Then we settle in to watch television. Observing Ashlyn and her facial expressions as she’s engrossed in the show, I can’t help thinking of Gwen once more and missing her. She would have been seated beside me or her head would be in my lap while I stroked her soft hair. We would speak lightly, so as not to disturb Ashlyn, and when it was her bedtime, we would take her to her room and put her to bed together. We alternated telling her bedtime stories. Though, Ashlyn is now too big for that.
Will Ashlyn accept another woman in her life? Doubts fill me about allowing Giselle into our small world. I don’t want my daughter to feel estranged from me because of my relationship with Giselle. It’s already bad enough that I forgot about her for hours because I was caught up with a lover. What if she becomes a regular in my life, and we go on dates? Would Ashlyn be comfortable with it or would she pull away from me, thinking I’m trying to replace her mom?
I know she has hinted at not wanting to be an only child anymore. But wishing for a sibling is different from getting a stepmom.
Whoa! Am I not getting ahead of myself? Starting a relationship with Giselle doesn’t mean it will end at the altar and creating a nursery in the house, does it?
But I can’t get thoughts of Giselle from my mind. I enjoy every moment I spend with her. I loved having dinner with her at the South American restaurant and talking throughout our trip back to New York. Not to mention the many times I fucked her. Giselle is a beautiful and intelligent woman, and if things were different, I wouldn’t hesitate to make her mine.
But I have Ashlyn to think about.
CHAPTER14
GISELLE
“This isn’t healthy,” I say as I swing off the bed and start pacing my room. It’s been a good hour that I have been thinking about my relationship with Miles. Going to the playground with Gabriel and Maddie might have been time better spent, but I knew I wouldn’t enjoy myself because thoughts of him keep popping up in my head.
It’s a week after we came back to New York, and I haven’t heard from him at all. I mean, what the actual hell? Is he for real? Our paths haven’t even crossed at the Met. We exchanged numbers, and I’ve been very hopeful that he’d call me, but no. Am I expected to call him? After our time together in Washington, I thought we had something going on, but the way he reacted when seeing Gabriel and Maddie also has me wondering.
One minute he was leaning in for a kiss, and the next, he was formal. One would think we had exchanged no more than handshakes. He probably didn’t want Gabriel guessing what was going on between us, but did his tone have to be so formal? He’s attentive and passionate when we’re alone, but as soon as we’re in public, he becomes cool and distant. Now that I think of it, he started acting that way after he received a phone call from his daughter at the train station and on the way to the apartment. He’d become aloof and only relaxed when we stood together by the apartment door. But as soon as we had company, he became Mr. Glacier again.
And here I was, thinking he would invite me to spend Thanksgiving with him and his daughter the day after tomorrow.
I sit on the bed and run my fingers through my hair. It’s obvious that Miles is still on the fence about a possible relationship. With the relentless way he pursued me and made sure he came along to Washington, I’d thought he was truly interested in going further. Apparently, I’m nothing but a fuck bunny for him. This was exactly how Pierre behaved. He kept blowing hot and cold, confusing me until I was forced to ask, and he gave me the bombshell that he wasn’t a candidate for marriage. That was even before he started sleeping with a colleague. The snake!
I shake my head vigorously. “No. I’m not doing this again. No man will string me along for years and then ultimately feign confusion about my expectations before cheating on me.”
Not that Miles and I have established that we’re an item for him to cheat on me in the first place.
“I just have to admit the truth. We might have great chemistry, enjoy spending time with each other, and are compatible in bed. But he’s unavailable.”
From my conversation with him at the restaurant, I sensed that his daughter is very dear to him, and he doesn’t want to be involved because of her. I understand and respect that, but I’m done waiting for a man to see that I’m worth fighting for or being with on a long-term basis. If he only wants me for sex, I’m not game. I deserve better. Perhaps it’s old-fashioned, but I want to get married and have a family. Evidently, I won’t get that with Miles. Besides, a relationship with an older man who already has a child is doomed to fail. He already feels he has it all.
Even though I genuinely like him and he’s a fantastic lover, I have to move on. I resolve again to focus on my career goals and to not let myself get distracted anymore. Miles won’t sidetrack me.
Luckily, I’ve spoken with the Honduran government already, and they’ve agreed to loan us the Mayan sculpture for the exhibit. Excitement bubbles inside me at the thought of furthering my career as a curator.
My phone buzzes on the bedside table, and I reach for it. It’s the doorman.
“Ms. Bartholomay. There’s a Mr. Boucher here to see you.”
Pierre!
“What?” I jump to my feet in astonishment.
“He said he’s a good friend of yours from Paris. Should I allow him up?”
Good friend, my ass!
What’s he doing here? What’s he doing in New York? He must be here for work. Wait. How does he know where I live? Did Jo give him my address? She should have at least given me a heads-up. When I spoke to her about Robert, she refused to give anything away, saying they simply had sex and that was all there was to it, even though I sensed there was more. Shouldn’t she have told me about Pierre coming to look for me?
