by Vi Keeland
“Okay. So?”
Rip frowned. “Layla had plans…with the guy from the courthouse, apparently. A real big spender, too. Taking her to The Plaza tomorrow night for dinner.”
The miserable feeling I’d had all day suddenly sprouted through my body. My head pounded, my stomach became knotted, and it felt like an elephant had sat his ass on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I went to the kitchen, grabbed whatever alcohol Etta had in her cabinet, and filled half a glass. The urge to crush it in my hand was overwhelming.
Rip sat down in the living room. “I’m sorry, Gray. I didn’t want to give you that news.”
I drank half the bitter-tasting fluid in one gulp, hoping for something to help me feel calmer, something to numb me.
“I know she deserves a good life. I just hate that I can’t be the one to give it to her. The thought of her being with anyone else makes me want to bash every fucking lawyer’s head into a wall.”
Rip chuckled. “Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.” He shook his head. “Fucking lawyers. No offense to your lady.”
“How do you move on?” Rip’s wife had been gone for four or five years now. “Does it get easier?”
“Did a single day go by that you didn’t hear my Eileen’s name when we were locked up?”
I thought about it. I was pretty sure I knew more about Eileen than Rip. My head fell into my hands. “Fuck.”
Rip leaned forward, took the half-empty drink from my hand, and slugged the rest of it back. “Tell me about it.”
I was miserable company during dinner and after. I’d have to send Etta some flowers to make up for it. At least Etta and Rip seemed to have hit it off. The two of them were actually pretty entertaining together. Between my sour mood and the additional drinks I kicked back, I left feeling ready to hit the sack.
I rested my head against the seat of the car for the entire drive home and closed my eyes. It wasn’t like I’d expected Layla to stay celibate or anything. But what had it been? A whole two fucking weeks, and she was already moving on? And The Plaza Hotel? The fucker probably had a room for the night, too. I knew that move. A nice dinner, a couple of drinks—you look gorgeous tonight…and, hey, my room is just upstairs.
Fuck.
The car had stopped moving, so I opened my eyes to see where we were. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. We were stopped in traffic right in front of The Plaza Hotel. The same damned place the woman I loved would be out on a fucking date tomorrow night.
***
The next morning, I woke with my teeth still clenched, a blaring headache, and my palms sweating. The feeling of impending doom reminded me of how I’d felt the day before I’d started my damn prison sentence. But in my mind, the thought of Layla moving on had much longer-term ramifications. This loss wouldn’t be over in a few years—because when you meet the love of your life, and lose her, what do you have left? Just life without the love. Before I met Layla, I hadn’t even realized something was missing. Yet now, without her, I felt totally incomplete.
I’d experienced jealousy before, but it had come from a very different place—the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head, an archaic sort of possessiveness over a woman that stemmed from some alpha-male, hormonal shit that bred on immaturity. But what I felt today was totally different. Sure, I wanted to beat the living piss out of the guy Layla had plans with tonight. But I also felt other emotions that were new to me—fear, grief, loss. As crazy as it seemed, it likely wasn’t all that different than struggling with the death of someone you loved.
Luckily, I had a reason to drag my ass out of bed today. Otherwise I could have stayed put the entire day, wallowing in my pussified thoughts—which I was too chickenshit to act on. But I had responsibilities that took precedence over my self-pity. My daughter expected me.
I arrived at Max and Ella’s house for my visit a little early. Paula was already there and helping Ella get dressed—foo-sha because it was Friday.
“How you feeling?”
I’d somehow come to terms with being civil to Max. While I would never understand the shit she put me through, or probably ever forgive her for it, I’d seen during her hospital stay that she had no one. And humanity made it impossible to torture her during the little time she had left.
“Good. Weak, but glad to be home.”
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and nodded.
“How are things going with you and Ella?” Max asked. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you since I got home.”
“She’s a great kid.” I paused and thought about not saying what was on the tip of my tongue. But then I thought maybe it would offer Max peace. “You did a great job raising her. She’s smart, happy, polite, and very settled for a little girl who’s going through her mom being in and out of the hospital.”
Max smiled. “Thank you. I regret lots of things in my life. But the thing I regret most is that you lost years with her because of my actions. She deserves you. And you deserve her. Time is a gift, and I hope you have many years with her, Gray. I truly mean that.”
“Thank you.”
Max took a deep breath. “I think we should tell her.”
My eyes jumped to meet hers.
“I don’t have much time left, and it might make the transition easier if she knows she still has one parent, that she’s not alone in this world.”
I suddenly got nervous. “You think she’s ready for that?”
“I do.”
I nodded. “All right, then. Whenever you’re ready.”
Max’s smile was sad. “Time isn’t something I can afford to waste. ‘Don’t put off until tomorrow what can be done today’ is pretty much my mantra now.”
Ella came flying into the room, and I quickly knelt to catch her. God, I needed that hug, beautiful girl. I squeezed her as hard as she squeezed me. Her little arms didn’t fit around me, and I found myself thinking I really hoped she still did this when they did.
“Can we go to look for Stuart again today?”
Max’s brows drew down, so I explained. “Central Park. I took her to the lake where they filmed Stuart Little.” I looked to Ella. “Sure. Why don’t we stop off and get Freckles. I’m sure he’d like to come to the park.”
She jumped up and down. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Max bent. “Sweetheart, before you go, there is something Gray and I would like to talk to you about.”
Ella looked at her mother and signed a bunch of things I didn’t understand.
Max laughed. “Yes. You have to put your listening ears on.”
Paula seemed to sense we needed some time alone. “I told your mom I’d come back tonight to help with dinner and bath time,” she told Ella. “I’ll see you later, munchkin. I can’t wait to hear about the park.” She kissed the top of Ella’s head and said goodbye to Max and me.
“Why don’t we go in the living room?” Max nodded her head toward it.
My heart started to race. What if finding out disappointed her? What if she thought I’d known all along that she was my daughter and chose not to stick around? How the hell did you break the news to a little girl that a man she just met was really her father? I sure as shit hoped that Max had a plan, because I certainly didn’t.
Max and Ella sat on the couch together. I sat on the chair diagonally across from them. Max looked at me, her eyes seeking approval to start. Only instead of confirmation we should begin, I must’ve offered a look like a deer in the headlights.
“It’s going to be fine,” Max whispered to me before shifting to face our daughter.
“Ella, do you remember when I told you that you were smart like your daddy?”
Ella pointed to her head. “I get my brain from my daddy.”
Max smiled. “That’s right. Well, I have some news for you.”
I held my breath.
Ella signed something that made Max laugh. I really needed to learn the language fast.
“I don’t think that Gr
ay understood that, Ella. Tell him with your words and hands.”
Ella went slow, showing me each word with her hands. “Gray.” She moved her hands in a circular motion. “Smart.” She tapped her forehead with one finger and then held up her hand, palm facing me.
I looked at Max in shock. Is she asking what I think she’s asking?
Seeing my face, Max laughed. “Ella, are you saying Gray’s smart like your daddy because you want him to be your daddy?”
Ella smiled and slapped both her hands over her face, covering it like she was shy. She spread two fingers to expose one eye and looked up at me, nodding.
I swallowed a few times to fight back a rush of unexpected tears. “Come here, you.” Hooking an arm around her little waist, I lifted Ella up from the floor and onto my lap. I nudged her hands away from her face and smiled.
“I’m glad you want that, Ella. Because I am your daddy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you were a baby, but I promise I’m always going to be around from now on.”
Ella stared at me, then looked to her mother for some sort of affirmation. Max nodded.
“Can I call you…”
She lifted her hand, extended her five fingers, and tapped her thumb to her forehead twice. It reminded me of a turkey. My signing ability was shit, but I’d stumbled across the word for daddy on my first night trying to learn it online. That one had stuck with me.
“I’d be honored if you’d call me…” I mimicked the sign and added the word with a crack in my voice. “Daddy.”
Her smile choked me up. But then her pointer finger went to her lip, and she seemed to be pondering something. I glanced up at Max, who shrugged, and we waited.
“Does that mean I’m going to live with you and not Mommy?”
I shook my head, but then realized someday soon that would be the case, and I didn’t want my first act as her official father to be a lie. I looked at Max and gave her the nonverbal cue for how do I answer this one?
Max took Ella’s hand. “You get to have two places to call home. One with Mommy, and one with Daddy. And that’s kinda cool because if one of us ever needs to…go away…you’ll always have a place to call home.”
Ella turned to me. “Are you going away again?”
“Nothing in the world could make me leave you now that I get to be your daddy.”
Ella smiled. “Okay.”
“And you know what else?” I said.
“What?”
“You know the room you slept in at my house?”
She nodded.
“That’s going to be your room from now on. So you always have a place to call home when we’re together. And, I’ll tell you what, you can pick out your own paint color, and we can buy some decorations for it so it feels like your room.”
Ella’s eyes widened. “Can I paint it my favorite color?”
“We can paint it whatever you want.”
She smiled. “My favorite color is rainbow, just like Layla’s.”
Chapter 36
* * *
Gray
The day went along like any other day with Ella after that. We stopped and picked up Freckles, who carried his old shoe with him the entire way to Central Park, and then the three of us spent the afternoon watching the model boats. While Ella searched for Stuart Little, I quietly obsessed over Layla’s date tonight and remembered what a nice afternoon we’d had last time we were all here together.
Ella and I even bought ice cream from the same cart guy and sat on the same bench where the three of us had eaten it last time. It must’ve made Ella think about Layla, too.
She licked her cone while chocolate ice cream dripped down her fingers on the other side. “Can Layla come to the park with us next time?”
I didn’t think I should explain that we’d broken up. Today was already info overload. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
She licked some more. “Are you and Mommy married?”
I coughed as I swallowed my ice cream. “No, Mommy and I aren’t married anymore.”
“So, does that mean you can marry Layla?”
I wish. “It means I could get married again. So could your mom, technically.”
“What’s tech-lick-ly mean?”
“It means it could happen, but it’s not necessarily going to.”
She turned her hand, examined her fingers covered in melted ice cream, and dipped her head to lick them off.
“Like finding Stuart Little out there.”
I chuckled. “I suppose so, yes.”
“Why do people get married?”
Good question. I’ve been trying to figure out why I married your mother for years now.
“They get married because they love each other.”
“Do you love Layla?”
Shit.
Well, that was at least one question I could answer wholeheartedly. “Yeah, sweetheart, I love Layla.”
Ella was quiet for a long time after that. I glanced over a bunch of times while she licked her cone in silence, just knowing the wheels in her little head were spinning fast.
“What does love feel like?”
Jesus, she asked tough questions. “It feels like you would do anything in the world for that person to make them happy. It makes you happy and sort of warm inside.”
She giggled. “My ice cream is making me feel cold inside. But I love ice cream.”
Ella finished off her cone, and I bought a bottle of water to wet the napkins so she could clean off her hands, even though Freckles looked more than willing to take care of it for us. I’d thought our little heart-to-heart was over.
“Do I make you feel happy and warm inside?” she asked.
My heart swelled. “You do. And I’d do anything in the world to make you happy.”
She smiled that toothy grin. “That means you love me.”
I rubbed my nose against hers. “I certainly do. I love you very much, sweetheart.”
Her face got very serious. “Are you staying here?”
“I’m going to stay forever, Ella.”
***
I kept thinking about my conversation with Ella, even hours after I’d dropped her off. I’d meant every word I said to her. I loved her and would do anything in this world to make her happy. A month ago, if someone had asked me if I even wanted kids, I probably would’ve said no. My life experiences had made me sour on family life. I’d thought I knew the path I wanted to walk. Yet today, I didn’t just accept that this was my fate—I wanted Ella in my life. Sometimes the most unexpected things redirect our course, and we realize we had no idea where we were even going before.
Which made me think…if I hadn’t wanted a family not too long ago, and now I couldn’t imagine my life without Ella, couldn’t Layla feel the same way? Love changes everything.
If Ella didn’t want me as her father, wouldn’t I fight for her love? Wasn’t that what I’d essentially told her today?
What does love feel like?
It feels like you would do anything in the world for that person to make them happy.
How could I decide what might make Layla happy when I hadn’t even known what made me happy a month ago?
Fuck.
I’d screwed up. Big time. Again.
Layla might not want to be with me, but Rip, Etta, everyone was right—that wasn’t my choice to make. It was hers.
I picked up my cell and glanced at the time on the phone. Seven fifteen. Scrolling with shaky hands, I got up and grabbed my wallet and keys. I found the number I needed and pressed call.
“Etta, what time is Layla’s date?”
Chapter 37
* * *
Gray
Traffic. I jumped out of the cab two blocks from The Plaza and tossed a fifty at the driver. Quicker to walk. Which is what I started to do, until my walk turned into a jog, and the jog quickly turned into a full damn sprint.
The doorman wasn’t sure whether to put his hand up to stop me or open the door.
“Where’s t
he restaurant?” I demanded.
“Which one, sir?”
Shit. “All of them.”
I started at the bottom. Palm Court was packed with people, but none of them was Layla. Next I hit The Champagne Bar, although that came up empty, too. I waited for the elevator to The Rose Club, but became impatient and went in search of stairs. Taking them two at a time, I made my way up and brushed past the maître d’ as he attempted to help me.
No sign of her at the bar.
I headed to an interior flight of stairs, which led to an oversized living room-like setup. Scanning the large room, I was just about to move to my next stop when I saw the top of a woman’s head over a tall red chair in a private corner of the room. She was sitting alone.
My heart raced out of control. It had to be her. As I got closer, I realized I had no idea what the hell I was going to say. Weaving my way through the furniture, I caught sight of a set of legs. Gorgeous, sexy, spectacular legs. I’d know them anywhere.
I stopped behind her chair and took a few deep breaths before taking the plunge.
Layla had her head down and was texting on her phone as I approached. It took her a few seconds to realize someone was standing in front of her. When she looked up, she blinked a few times.
“Gray? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
The surprise on her face morphed into anger. “Here? Now? You didn’t seem too concerned when I wanted to talk to you.” She stood and folded her arms across her chest. “Make an appointment with my secretary on Monday for whatever you need.”
“No.”
Her brows shot up. “No?”
“It can’t wait.”
She shook her head and stepped closer. The fire in her eyes should have made me back up, but instead it fucking turned me on. It reminded me of the first time we’d met. Her blunt mouth had attracted me to her even before I’d noticed how perfect her lips were. That had been our thing—straight-up, no-bullshit honesty.
