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Pirate ships brave stormy seas. Dragons guard mountains of treasure.
And at the heart of every story is Grace, eyes sparkling with joy, and her Dad, always present—even if always in a suit and tie.
These drawings, I realize, are more than just idle doodles. They're Grace's dreams, adventures she yearns for but doesn't experience in her tightly scheduled life.
"Wow," I breathe out, genuinely impressed. "These are incredible, Grace. You and your Daddy are quite the adventurers," I say. Grace nods, her concentration unbroken as she continues to color.
"Hey, those castles remind me of a movie," I mention, catching Grace's attention. She looks up, curiosity in her gaze.
"You ever hear of Beauty and the Beast?" I ask.
Grace shakes her head. With the way this little girl's scheduled is booked out, I'd be shocked if she's ever even heard of a TV.
"Well, it's about a girl who falls in love with a beast," I explain, wondering if it's a bit much for a kid. But Grace just smiles and keeps coloring. "And you know what? The beast isn't really a beast at all. He just looks that way on the outside," I continue, feeling slightly silly now. "But inside, he's kind, caring, and brave. And the girl in the story, she's from a small, quirky town where everyone randomly bursts into song as if they're all Broadway stars. Her name's Belle. She loves books and dreams of adventure."
I lean in closer, whispering like it's a secret. "But nobody in her small town gets her. Until..." I pause, waiting for Grace to jump in.
"Until she meets the beast," she says with a grin.
"Belle ends up in an enchanted castle, with the beast! And he's not just any beast. He's a prince, cursed for his lousy attitude. Talk about tough love, right?" Grace giggles, and I get more animated telling the story. "It's about how Beast and Belle fall in love, dodging a narcissistic hunter and chatting with overly lively furniture."
I glance back at the drawings on the wall. "Kinda like your adventures with your Dad, huh? Just with more singing and less treasure-guarding dragon."
Grace looks up with wide eyes, silent, and I laugh softly. "Sorry, that was probably a bit much for coloring time."
But Grace surprises me, setting down her crayon and looking up seriously. "No, it's not too much," she says quietly. "I get it," before diving back into her coloring with vigor. "Can we watch it?"
"I promise we'll watch Beauty & the Beast. Maybe even make it a big movie night, with popcorn and all. What do you say, partner?" Grace's face beams, and her eager nod tells me everything I need to know.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can feel Aidan watching us from the doorway, his presence like a warm sunbeam that's hard not to turn towards. But I stay focused on Grace.
"And hey, maybe we'll sing along. I hear you're a great singer, and I'm... an enthusiastic backup dancer," I say. Grace laughs, her shyness evaporating.
"You're funny," she says, and my heart does a small victory dance.
"Yeah, but it's our secret. I've got a critic's rep to uphold," I whisper, earning another giggle from the seven-year-old.
Despite Aidan's magnetic presence, I remain Grace's story buddy. My attention is all on her.
On Grace. And only Grace.
And definitely not on her very attractive, very distracting dad.
Chapter Seven
AIDAN
I'd almost forgotten the joy of a crisp Monday morning.
It's the kind that smells like fresh opportunities and good coffee. Feels good—hell, natural—to be back at Seattle Storm headquarters, diving into team logistics and player stats.
For the first time since my old nanny took a break, I've got the space to focus. All thanks to Lacey taking over with Grace for the last thirty-six hours.
Being back near the stadium feels like slipping into a well-oiled machine. Everyone knows their role and nails it. Work is my zone, and I'm not ashamed to say I've missed its familiar rhythm.
Grabbing an iced vanilla latte from the vendor, I stroll through the halls, greeting familiar faces and catching up. It's like being part of a big, chaotic family—the kind you can't help but love despite the craziness.
And speaking of crazy...
