The First Taste(35)

“I’m just helping Sadie out.” My heart thumps once when I think of Amelia. She isn’t my date, which means I have to keep my hands off her in public. How can I after last week? I knew the woman an hour before I had her in my arms, kissing her where all of Manhattan could see. It’ll be a feat to restrain myself until I can get her alone.

Flora looks as though she’s waiting for me to continue, as if I’m really leaving because I have something up my sleeve. “Can I get you something to drink?” I offer.

“I’ll take a water.”

I lead Flora into the kitchen and get a glass out of a cabinet, even though she’s been here a hundred times and knows where everything is. She continues to watch me.

I don’t know if it’s the maternal vibe she gives off the way my mom used to when we were really young, but her silence has a way of filling the room, pressurizing the air around me until I crack. “Actually, there will be a girl there tonight,” I say.

“Really?” Flora sounds surprised. She knew Shana well, knows our history. Then again, there aren’t many people who don’t. It’s not as if Elizabeth is a small town, but sometimes it feels that way. “Who’s the lucky lady?” she asks.

“No, it’s not like that,” I say right away. “Not serious. Just someone who . . . I mean, we’re just friends, but . . .”

“I see,” Flora says. “A friend like Denise.”

My cheeks warm. Pico and his big f*cking mouth. Or maybe it was Denise. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to get Flora on her side. Flora’s one of the few people I respect enough to hear her advice. “Yeah,” I say, even though Amelia isn’t like any other woman I know, and certainly not Denise. “Like Denise. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

It’s uncomfortable talking to Flora about my sex life. Especially since my sex life is extremely . . . casual. “I don’t mean any disrespect.”

“Are you apologizing to me or the women?” She smiles as I fill her water glass. “Everybody needs intimacy. I don’t fault you that. I just hate to see you so closed off. I think it hurts the girls, and I think it hurts you too.”

“I’m not closed off,” I say, passing her the drink. “I’m doing my best.”

“Perhaps.” She takes a sip. “Listen—don’t feel guilty about leaving Bell. It’s good for you to live your own life. And I’ve sat for her enough times to know how to bring out her excitement.”

“She’s definitely excitable,” I agree.

She laughs. “That she is. Go have fun tonight. And if you want to spend the night out, I have no problem sleeping here.”

“Oh, that won’t be—”

“I’ll just plan on spending the night unless I hear otherwise,” she says.

“No-o-o,” Bell screeches from behind me. I turn just in time to see her burst into tears. Pico mouths “sorry” at me, already looking shell-shocked.

“You can’t do this to me!” Bell launches herself forward, gripping my leg with surprising strength. I pick up her flailing body, and she throws her arms around my neck. “No, no, no. Please don’t go. I can’t fall asleep without you here.”

“Bell, calm down,” I say firmly, but it comes out softer than I mean. I shoot Flora a look.

She nods encouragingly at me.

Bell sobs into my neck. I rub her back. “You’re a big girl, Bell—”

“No I’m not.”

“I need you to do this for me. Please. I promise I’ll be back before you wake up.”

She screams, shredding my eardrums as she fists her hands into my suit jacket. “No, no, no.”

Jesus Christ. I’m no stranger to Bell’s fits, but normally I’m able to calm her down pretty quickly. I suddenly realize that’s because I just give her what she wants.

Flora comes around the counter. “Bell, sweetheart, we’re going to have fun tonight, you, me, and Pico. We’ll do all the girly things Daddy doesn’t do.”

“He does them all,” she says, kneeing me in the gut.

I double over with an ooph, nearly dropping her. Frustrated, I shout “goddamn it” as pain radiates from my stomach.

“Oh, dear.” Flora puts her hand on Bell’s back. “I was going to make you an omelet for dinner. I know how you like those. But omelets are for big girls, not babies.”

“I’m not a baby,” Bell says.

“You’re acting like one,” I tell her. “I thought you said crying was for boys.”

She shudders in my arms. It’s taking everything in me not to give in. I hate this. I don’t even want to go. Sure, I’d love to spend more time with Amelia, but I don’t know if I’ll get to. Maybe she isn’t going. Maybe she has a date. It’s not worth traumatizing my daughter.

“Don’t you dare,” Flora says. “I see defeat in your eyes.”

I take a deep breath, hug Bell closer, and try to put her down. She wriggles to keep her arms around my neck, but I pry her off.

“I hate you both,” she yells at me. “You went away last weekend and now you’re leaving me again. I hate you.” She tears off through the kitchen toward her room.