by Bailey B
I open the door wider and he steps inside, eyes never leaving my face. “Thanks. Sarah’s starting Molly’s bedtime routine. I’m on my way out.”
A frown falls across Logan’s face, that tiny wrinkle appearing between his brows. I love his brooding, serious look; but I keep my thoughts to myself. There is no way I’m going down that road again. Twice is two times too many. “Dressed like that?”
I grab the clutch shoulder bag Sarah set on the end table for me and begin shoving my essentials inside it. “If you must know, I have a date.”
“With who?” Logan guffaws.
I narrow my eyes on him, fire running through my veins. Does he think I can’t get a date? Just because I’ve chosen not to be with anyone since him doesn’t mean I couldn’t be. “None of your business. Why are you here, anyway?”
Logan rubs the back of his neck and flashes me his signature crooked smile. “I thought I’d come see my favorite girls.”
I roll my eyes. Sarah’s humming carries down the stairs. “Sounds like Molly is almost done with her bath. She hates the water. You can help with story time. I’ve got to go.”
I don’t give Logan the chance to say anything. Slipping the thin rhinestone strap over my shoulder, I walk out the door and close it behind me. In my car, I pull out of the driveway, purposefully ignoring Logan peeking through the curtain. It’s not until I’m down the road at the stop sign do I realize my hands are shaking. I take a breath, tears pooling behind my eyes, and swallow the lump in my throat.
I hate Logan. I hate how no matter how much I wish it didn’t, that smile of his still sends my heart racing. I hate how one look twists my insides and turns me into jello. Most of all, I hate how I still love him because, truthfully, I never stopped.
Eventually, I get myself together and make it to Harden’s, a dinky pub on the wrong side of town that I’m overdressed for. I’m fifteen minutes late, but Travis doesn’t seem to notice or mind. He’s talking to a genuinely good looking man covered in tattoos. Then again, from what I can tell in the dimly lit bar, seems like everyone here has them.
“I was starting to think you stood me up.” Travis slips his arm around my waist and pulls me in for a hug. He plants a gentle kiss to my cheek, his beer tinged breath making my nose wrinkle. “You look stunning.”
I smile, heat climbing my cheeks. I’m not used to compliments. While they are nice, I can’t help but feel uncomfortable. “Thanks.”
“Fucktard here seems to have forgotten his manners,” the tattooed one says. He extends an equally inked hand to me, which looks strangely appealing next to his rolled up, button down sleeves. “I’m Bane.”
I shake his calloused hand, noting how cold it is despite the room being hotter than a sauna. Too many people in too small of a place. “Danika.”
Bane’s lips curl into a sinister smile. He lifts the rim of his cup and finishes his drink. “That’s an extraordinary name.”
I shrug. My name is unique at best. “What can I say, I’m an extraordinary girl.”
Bane chuckles under his breath and stands. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans he says, “That you are, Miss Winters.”
I gasp, looking at Bane with new eyes. I’ve never met him before, trust me. You don’t forget a six-foot tall, tattooed man cut from marble. “How do you—”
Bane cuts me off with another deep throated laugh. He hands Travis a wad of bills and says, “Take her to Aribella’s tonight. My treat.” Bane steps towards me. He leans in, possibly for a hug, but changes his mind. “Tell Piper I say hello.”
Travis shoves the cash in his pocket then signals the bartender for two beers. He hands one to me, watching my every move with a newfound curiosity. “How do you know Bane McCarron?”
I shake my head, looking over my shoulder at the door. “I don’t.”
Aribella’s is the fanciest restaurant I’ve been to. Ever. It’s small—six spacious tables surrounding a pianist—providing an intimate experience. Our white clothed table has two chilled glasses of champagne waiting for us when we sit down. To my surprise, there is no menu. The restaurant serves a six course meal every night, prepared exclusively for each reservation, and they only take twelve people per night. The cost of such experience? About seven hundred dollars a table, before alcohol, according to Google.
A busboy of sorts sets a pre-sliced wedge of seasoned cheese with biscotti on the table as our waiter approaches with a bottle of red wine that has a deep maroon label. “The wine of the evening is a 2015 Joseph Phelps Insignia, compliments of Mr. McCarron.”
Travis arches his eyebrows, seemingly impressed. I don’t know what this Joseph something or another is, but I know it can’t be cheap. I need to ask Piper for Bane’s number and properly thank him for tonight’s dinner.
Our waiter fills our wide tulip glasses halfway then sets the bottle on the table. “Enjoy.”
Travis reaches for a slice of herbed cheese and tosses in his mouth, without the biscotti. “This place is amazing. Have you ever been here before?”
I force a smile at his lack of manners and shake my head. There’s no point in asking him the same question. It’s obvious the closest Travis has ever been to a fancy restaurant like this one is the sidewalk. “So, tell me about yourself, Travis. Do you have another job besides the Horizon Hotel?”
“Nope.” Travis winks, which doesn’t make me feel too good about what else he does for a living. “What do you do?”
“I was a part-time preschool teacher back in Georgia. They discounted Molly's daycare, which allowed me to bring in some income while going to school. Childcare is not cheap.”
“That’s your daughter, right?” Travis swallows half his glass of wine in one big swallow, not at all savoring the exquisite flavor. I have more class in my pinky toe than this man does in his whole body
“Yeah. She turned four a couple of weeks before we moved back.”
Travis takes his biscotti and dips it in what’s left of his wine before taking a bite. “This shit is heavenly. You gotta try it.” He holds the soaked bread, which I’m sure tastes wonderful, out to me but I shake my head. He shrugs and shoves the last bite in his mouth, not bothering to swallow before asking, “What do you do now?”
“I’m finishing my last semester online. Between my savings and student loan overage, we’re okay for the moment.” I’m not proud to be freeloading off of Sarah, but she won’t let me pay rent, insisting that she doesn’t have to pay her father so that means I shouldn’t either. I disagree but don’t have the money to press the matter.
“You really should talk to Bane.” Travis finishes his glass of wine then pours himself another. “He can hook you up.”
I shake my head and nibble on my first slice of cheese. It’s amazing, rich and flavorful. I could probably eat a whole block and be satisfied but don't’ because my stomach and cheese don’t always mix. Seeing our waiter approach, I grab two more slices and set them on my tiny serving dish.
Our waiter sets two tiny scoops of ice cream in front of us as someone else takes what’s left of the cheese away. “Mint sorbet to cleanse your pallet.”
Travis lifts the tiny tasting spoon and chuckles before pinching the melon sized ball of sorbet in his fingers and dropping it in his mouth. “Oooh. Brain freeze.”
As thrilled as I am to be in such an elegant place, this date is a disaster. Travis is an embarrassment. People at the surrounding tables have stared at us on more than one occasion. I don't like it. I quickly eat the last slices of my cheese, then finish my glass of wine. “You want to get out of here?”
“Fuck yes.” Travis discards his napkin on the table and stands. “I feel like a fish out of water. Come on. I know where we should go.”
The good thing about modern day dating, there’s no driving. You can drink as much as you want because with the click of an app someone will pick you up and take you to your destination. Although, this concept one hundred percent goes against the don’t get into a stranger’s car concept mom beat in
to me as a kid.
Travis holds the door open of a red sedan that’s taken our transportation job and slides in after me. As soon as the car starts moving, his hand is on my thigh. I swallow hard and look at him, which apparently is a signal to kiss me because that’s what he does.
Travis presses his lips to mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. I close my eyes and try to get sucked into the kiss the way I do with Logan but Travis lacks rhythm and finesse. One hand slips up my thigh while the other grips my hair into a ponytail. My roots scream, sending a surge of pain through my scalp. I push his hand away from my hip and to my knee, then pull back.
“You are exquisite,” Travis whispers against my lips. He tilts his head, kissing the tip of my nose.
I smile, because I don’t want to say thank you. Thank you implies I’m enjoying his compliments, this kiss, this night. On a scale of ten, I’d rank tonight a three. Better than my I’ll Make Love to You singer but so much lower than my expectations.
Travis’ phone sounds from his pocket. He leans back in his seat and grumbles upon reading the message.
I smooth the skirt of my dress and cross my legs, secretly hoping it’s an emergency and our night will be over. “Everything all right?”
“Would you be pissed if I left?” Travis looks up at me, lips turning down at the corners. “My boss needs me for a job.”
I reach over and link my fingers with his. I haven’t held a man’s hand that wasn’t Logan’s since high school. My stomach twists with unease, but I smile anyway. It’s not Travis’ fault I’m scrutinizing everything he does, comparing him to a man I shouldn’t want. “It’s fine. Raincheck?”
“Absolutely.” Travis reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wad of cash Bane handed him. The restaurant refused to take our money, as did the bar we started at, so the stack has sat untouched. “No reason your night has to end because mine does.” He unlaces our fingers and sets the cash in my hand. “Bane wouldn’t have given this to me if you weren’t around. You should take it.”
The driver stops in the roundabout of the Horizon Hotel. Travis gets out first, holding the door open while I tuck more hundred dollar bills than I’ve held in my entire life into my purse.“Get yourself a room. Have some drinks. Order room service and then pamper yourself in the morning.” Travis smiles down at me adoringly. “I have a feeling being a single mom means you come second more often than not.”
I shrug. Everything Travis is suggesting sounds wonderful, and while Sarah probably wouldn’t care if I spent the night away, it’s not her responsibility to take care of Molly in the morning.
Travis looks at his phone again and frowns. “Shit. If I don’t go now they’re gonna have my ass.” He opens the Uber car’s door again and starts talking to the driver, probably offering him a boat load of cash to take him wherever it is he needs to go. The driver must agree because Travis gets in and rolls down the window. “I’ll call you.”
24
Danika
“So, how was your date?” Sarah asks early the next morning. She sits on the couch beside me, a bowl of oatmeal in hand.
Molly’s watching Vamperina, her newest obsession on Disney+ since we moved here. She plays with her doll, humming the show’s theme song. I wish she would sing or even whisper something. She hasn’t said a word since meeting Logan and I’m dying to hear my daughter’s voice again.
“Not even worth talking about.” I take a sip of my coffee. Before Molly was born, I never drank the stuff. I was also vegan ninety-eight percent of the time. Now, I’m a stupid picky meat eater who prefers vegetables that consumes coffee and tea by the gallon.
Sarah winces. “That bad?”
“The worst part was when Travis kissed me; it was like kissing my brother. It was awkward and there was absolutely no spark. When his hand slid up my thigh I thought I was going to puke in his mouth.” I lay my head in her lap and hold a throw pillow to my chest. “What is wrong with me?”
Sarah sets her bowl of oatmeal on the end table and runs her fingers through my hair. “Nothing. You are perfect. When the right guy comes around, you’ll feel that fire again.”
“Maybe I’m broken.” I hold the pillow tighter. Unshed tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I spent too many nights crying over Logan the last four years. “The only time I’ve feel anything towards a man is when I’m with Logan. That feeling, the pull to be near him, the fire with his touch, it was all there at the wedding and it’s there every time I see him. Why can’t I find that with someone else?”
Sarah doesn’t say anything, just twists strands of hair into tiny braids. When a second episode of Vamperina starts, she says, “He was here last night, waiting for you to get home.”
I roll onto my back and look up at her. “Who?”
“Logan.” She drops the locks she was working on and grabs her bowl again. “He brought his guitar and legit sang Molly to sleep last night. I didn’t even know he played!”
“Ever since high school.” I roll onto my side. Logan never explicitly played for me, but I still remember listening through his bedroom door. I remember thinking he had talent. I’m not surprised to hear he still plays.
“And as Molly started to fall asleep, he played an original. Oh. Em. Gee. Dani, it was so beautiful. You have to get him to play it for you.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Logan will never play his guitar for me. He didn’t when we were together in high school. Why would he now? Especially since he probably hates me for keeping Molly from him all these years.
“Anyway.” Sarah must have finished her breakfast because the spoon clinks in the bowl. She sets it on the end table again and begins twisting my locks some more. “He hung out until eleven, probably would have stayed later too, but I convinced him you weren’t coming home last night. Kinda became a dick after that and left.”
“Of course he did,” I mumble, one-hundred percent not surprised. Logan was always the jealous type, even when we were kids. That’s part of the reason he and I sat alone at lunch in middle school.
“And maybe he said he would be here in five minutes,” she blurts in one breath.
“What?” I push myself up so fast my head spins. “What do you mean he’ll be here in five minutes?”
Sarah shrugs. “I told Logan he could take Molly out to breakfast.”
“That wasn’t your call to make, Sarah!” I hop off the couch and run up the stairs to get changed. Not that I care what Logan thinks, but I am not about to be caught with hobo hair in my PJ’s. In my room, I barely have enough time to throw on a dress and pull my hair into a messy bun before the doorbell rings. Molly’s at the door before I’m down the steps. Her sweet voice excitedly yelling, “Daddy!”
My heart squeezes. I want that. I want the bond she’s formed with Logan. I’ve been in her life for four years. He’s been here three weeks and has accomplished more than I have. It sucks. I stop in the hallway and plant my hands on my hips. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, look. You’re home.” Logan’s accusatory tone doesn’t go unnoticed. Molly looks up at him, one brow arched. He softens his expression and kneels down to Molly’s level and puts his hands on her hips. “Why don’t you ask Aunt Sarah to help you with your shoes? Mommy and I are going to step outside and talk. Okay?”
Molly nods and turns to leave but Logan holds her in place.
“Baby?” he asks, earning Molly’s puppy dog look. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and looks up at him. “Can you tell me you understand by saying, okay?”
Molly swallows hard but nods. “Oh... oak...okay, Daddy.”
A knot forms in my throat, drowning me in more tears I refuse to shed. Logan’s smile reaches his ears. He pulls Molly into a hug and she rests her cheek on his shoulder. I feel like an outsider, watching a private moment I’m not welcome in. He pats Molly’s back and lets her leave the room then stands and points to the front door. I follow him out, feeling like a child who’s about to get scolded.
“How did you
do that?” I ask.
“I told Molly about how I had trouble talking when I was her age. Described how hard it was to make the words I wanted to say come out and explained why she can’t stay in a comfortable silence forever.”
“Isn’t that a little deep for a four-year-old?”
Logan ignores my question and answers it with one of his own. “How was your date?”
“Amazing. We’re going out again on Saturday. He’s taking me back to Harden’s Bar.” I would rather cut my pinky toe off with a spork than go on another date with Travis, but Logan can’t know that. If I have to drink a beer by myself in a crappy bar to make Logan jealous, then so be it.
“That place is a shithole. He should take you somewhere nicer.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone can be as classy as you.” I meant it as an insult, but thinking back to all the times Logan went out back in high school, he was a perfect gentleman. Even that first night at the wedding, he could have easily kissed me, but he didn’t. As much as I hate to admit it, I probably would have enjoyed Aribella’s had we gone together.
Logan smirks, a witty comment on the edge of his tongue. The door opens and Molly skips out. She looks up at him like he’s her hero, completely ignoring the fact that I’m on the porch too. He swoops Molly into his arms and whispers something in her ear. She smiles excitedly and nods. “Would you like to join Molly and me for breakfast?”
“I don’t know.” Yes. A hundred times yes. Even if he is doing a great job at this daddy-business, I don’t trust them alone together yet. “Don’t you want daddy daughter time?”
Logan shrugs and carries Molly down the steps. “We had that last night. Besides, we need to take your car. Mine doesn’t have a back seat.”
25
Logan
I could have brought the State Trooper. It has a back seat. A very safe backseat might I add, but I didn’t want to give Danika the opportunity to say no. She would rather cut off her left tit than have Molly sit up front.
