The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(12)

CHAPTER SIX



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HEATHER

Between rinsing off our dinner plates and placing them in the dishwasher, I kept glancing over to the area where Ava and her friend Charlotte were playing with dolls. Whoever thought of the open concept for homes was brilliant.

When my phone beeped, I wiped my hands, answered it, and turned so I could watch the children.

“How are they doing?” Erica, Charlotte’s mother, asked. Erica was a stay-at-home parent who lived one block over, and meeting her at the park when Ava was still in a stroller had felt like winning the lottery. Even though Erica was my age, Charlotte was her third child, and Erica therefore had a wealth of experience I often took advantage of. Is this a rash or hives? How do you get dirt out of a skinned knee? Help, Ava has decided vegetables are evil. Erica either knew the answer or she had a story that made me feel better about not knowing.

Pure gold.

When I’d told Erica that I hadn’t found Wolfie, she’d suggested a playdate with Charlotte. Charlotte had been with me when I’d picked up Ava, and Ava had been so excited to see her friend she hadn’t asked me about Wolfie. She’d gotten in the car without hesitation, and we’d even enjoyed a pleasant dinner. While she’d been distracted, I’d stashed the box with the new wolf in the other room. Eventually Charlotte would go home, and I was doing my best to prepare for the tough questions that would surely follow.

“Great. You’re a genius,” I said in absolute appreciation. “Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

Erica chuckled. “Stop. It’s as much a favor to me as to you. I played outside with the boys, then actually got to hear about how their days were. I love my daughter, but she is a chatterbox. Bob is home. Should I leave the boys here or bring them with me?”

“I can drop Charlotte off if you want.”

“No, don’t worry about it. It gives me an excuse to take a walk. If I’m lucky, Bob will have the kitchen cleaned by the time we get back.”

See why I worship her genius?

“Bring the boys. Ava loves them.”

“Tyler and Kevin get a kick out of her too. They tell Charlotte that’s what a girl is supposed to look like.”

“Ouch.”

“Brothers.”

“Yeah,” I said, even though I’d always wished I’d had one. “Charlotte is a beautiful little girl and so polite.” She really was. Dark-blonde hair down to her waist. Striking hazel eyes just like her mother. Her brothers could say what they wanted, but one day they’d be beating admirers away from her. For now, though, she was rough around the edges from trying to keep up with the twins.

“Not to her brothers this week. Bob keeps thinking we need one more child, but I already feel like I’m a lion tamer. Three kids under the age of seven. He’s lucky he gets any sex at all.”

I laughed, glad I hadn’t chosen speakerphone. “Well, we’re here when you want to pick her up.”

“I’ll head over now.”

A few minutes later, after a knock, my door opened, and all quiet vanished. Tyler and Kevin were wild six-year-old twins no mere mortal could contain. They bounded through my house like puppies, chasing each other up the staircase that led to our bedrooms, then back down.

Erica closed the door behind her, then called out, “Boys, stay downstairs.” Her smile was apologetic as she crossed to where Charlotte and Ava were still playing. “I did offer to leave them home.”

I didn’t mind. They were high energy, but good outside of that. As they ran past again, I said, “How was school, boys?”

Kevin made a face at me. “School is a bad word.”

Tyler danced back and forth in front of him in a playful manner. “You’re a bad word.”

They chased each other around my couch. Pop—one went up and over the back of it. The other followed like it was a vaulting competition. “Easy, guys. No one is allowed to break their neck until summer vacation.”

Kevin stopped and smiled. “Summer. Now that is a good word.”

Tyler tackled him. “Got you.”

As they wrestled on the floor, Erica met my gaze and shrugged. “I can yell at them, but my guess is someone in their class had a birthday party today. They came home like this.”

“They’re good,” I assured her. My childhood had been a quiet and lonely one. I didn’t want Ava to have the same memories. A little chaos was a positive in my mind.

“Charlotte, get your shoes on.” To me, Erica said, “You’re a saint and the only babysitter they like.”

“They’re always good for me.” They ran past again. “I just don’t ask them to sit down. I’m sure they’ve had enough of that by the time they get home.”

Erica laughed. “When they’re like this, I imagine years of uncomfortable parent-teacher meetings.”

I smiled. “I see future track stars. Possibly Olympic gold with their stamina.”

She nodded, looking pleased. “That’s why they love you.”

My doorbell rang.

“Do you mind watching them while I answer that?” Still in my clothes from work, but barefoot, I answered the door.

The first thing I saw was his tie. I had what could almost be called a fascination with them. Ties said a lot about a man. Some refused to even wear them. Some lacked the discipline to tie them with precision. Don’t even get me started on knot types. Some men’s education stopped with the four-in-hand their fathers had taught them. Others sported Full Windsors like peacocks fluffing their feathers. The one before me was a crisp Neapolitan knot, an international, old-world preference. Done wrong, a tall man might end up with a tie that was too short, but whoever this man was, he was too sophisticated for such a faux pas.