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Xavier looked over my shoulder, toward where I assumed the paparazzi were still in view, and shook his head. “Not like that. It’s never been like that.”
“Well, except after your mum passed.”
Jagger turned from the front and flashed what could only be called a cheeky grin. Other than the Wayfarers perched atop his head, he looked like he had marched right out of a Regency novel, ready to duel over the honor of a fair maiden or maybe just a gambling debt. My baby sister Joni, an equally shameless flirt, would have been all over him.
“Crowded their way down South End, didn’t they? Once your dad came through, anyway,” he continued. “And then, after you found out you were the heir. That was pretty bad. And again when Rupert died. And when you expanded the Parker Group, and you brought that model to the opening—”
“That’s enough, Jag,” Xavier cut him off. His tone was sharp, though his touch on Sofia’s neck and the hand that sought out mine were gentle. “Jagger, Els. You’ve already met Ces. When she’s ready to say hello to the world again, this is our daughter, Sofia.”
Sofia just buried her face deeper into my neck, clearly unwilling to meet anyone just yet.
I offered a grim smile to Jagger and Elsie. “Hi, guys.”
Elsie offered a sympathetic nod. “Hello, darlings.”
I stroked Sofia’s back, as I had since she was a baby, while she shifted herself back and forth on my lap in a move I recognized as a search for movement, just like when she was a baby. My little girl was growing, but she wasn’t too big for rocking hugs yet. And truth be told, I could have used a little rocking too.
Lord, we hadn’t even left the airport, and we were already overwhelmed. Six weeks ago, I’d taken the biggest leap of my life since becoming a single mother at twenty-three by agreeing to spend the summer with Xavier. Eight hours ago, I’d still been sleeping on my brother’s landing. Two days ago, I was still an elementary school teacher struggling to make ends meet while raising her four-year-old daughter.
It was supposed to be the start of a fairy-tale ending. But right now, I was feeling less like a princess and more like Alice toppling down the rabbit hole. Agreeing to spend the summer in London with Xavier was just the next crazy stop in Wonderland.
Because I wasn’t anything special. Just plain old Frankie Zola. Bookworm, wallflower, messy bun-wearer. Fourth child of six, daughter of a deceased mechanic and a recovering alcoholic, raised in the most average house in the Bronx. The idea that someone like Xavier could love someone like me was still, well, unbelievable.
Even now, on a casual Sunday afternoon, we didn’t match. Xavier’s dark jeans, red and white Arsenal jacket, and flashy blue sneakers all looked like they had been purchased at the mall on the way here. His shiny black hair, cut close at the neck, slightly longer up top, was casually mussed in aBritish Voguesort of way that paired delectably with the trimmed stubble around his jaw and the tattoo that snaked up his neck from beneath his jacket collar.
I, on the other hand, looked exactly like I had just gotten off a six-hour flight with a four-year-old, complete with a wrinkled T-shirt from Target, my favorite grandpa sweater that was pilled under the arms, and leggings stained with the remnants of chocolate milk Sofia had spilled on the plane.
Hot, I know. They call me Princess Pajama Party back home.
And yet, when I looked up from comforting our daughter, there was Xavier, hovering over us both like we were the most precious things in the world to him. His clenched jaw cut in the car’s dark interior, full bottom lip pulled apprehensively between his teeth. Those dark blue eyes sparkled with concern, yes, but also joy. Especially when they met mine.
Men like Xavier Parker didn’t fall for women like me. But he had. Twice.
“‘I wonder which way I ought to go,’” I murmured, quoting Lewis Carroll’s classic.
The hand on my lap squeezed, and I looked up to find Xavier watching me with a knowing look. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Gone were the phantom flashes and echoed shouts as everything about him came into focus.
“Who are you now?” he asked quietly over Sofia’s whimpers.
I smiled shyly. He always knew, somehow. “Alice. In Wonderland, of course.”
I was rewarded with his own smile, which somehow warmed the car and quieted the chaos outside even more. “Welcome to London, gorgeous.”
I couldn’t help but grin as that warmth extended into my chest and made me hum with happiness. I knew how rare Xavier’s smiles really were. I could have basked in the glow of it for hours.
“All right?” he asked.
Tentatively, I nodded. “We are now.”
Even so, the knot of anxiety in my belly remained, particularly as I recalled Jagger’s comments. Was this what his life was like here? Hounded by cameras and crowds? Cornered into luxury cars that were no better than moving cages?
Why had he never mentioned it before?
What had Sofia and I just stepped into?
“Daddy?”
As if she could hear me thinking, Sofia stopped sniffling and sat up to face Xavier.
