Nate(14)
He cuffed it with his and dipped his head down. “SBC for life, motherfucker.”
Mason had been waiting. Logan turned, and the brothers hugged. There were a couple of fists pounded on the back.
“How’s Taylor?” Mason asked after the hugging was done.
Logan was already eyeing the minibar. “She’s good. After work, she was going to head over to your place and stay with Sam until we get back. She’s taking the dogs, too.”
“You propose yet?” Mason asked with a knowing smirk. The knowing part was because he knew it was a sensitive topic. Logan was starting to realize he had a somewhat unhealthy fear of marriage. The divorce and his parents' relationship contributed to that. He glanced at me before clearing his throat.
The look was because he’d been talking to me a lot more lately about the whole situation.
I didn’t know if Mason knew or not.
“Before we have that conversation, I need to get properly wasted. And before that can happen, we have shit to handle for Nate.”
Mason frowned, then gentled his words. “Sorry—”
My phone started ringing.
It was Quincey.
I showed them the screen before hitting accept and taking it to the bedroom. “When?”
There was a sigh on her end. “We’ll be in the lobby in one hour.”
“No. You bring her up here.”
“Monson—”
“This is the first fucking goddamn time I’m meeting my daughter. You bring her where it’s private. I walked away from your place today when she should’ve been at your house. That’s the second time I gave you. The first was after you told me about her.”
She sucked in her breath. “Listen here, you asshole—”
“You knew for six months. ”
She made a growling sound on her end. I could hear her trying to control herself. “Fine,” she bit out. “What room?”
“We’re in the presidential suite. I’ll call down so you can get up here.”
“You want me to meet them? Ride up with them?” Mason asked when I returned.
They’d overheard.
“I want to be there, but I also want privacy when I see my daughter for the first time.”
Logan said, “Mason can’t. Someone might recognize the dumbass, but I can do it.”
“You know who you’re looking for?”
All joking aside, he gave a tight nod. “You sent me the files. I saw her picture, but I’ve got a feeling I’ll recognize your daughter anywhere. Their PI is normally good, so I’m sure they know who I am.”
“Yeah, about that.”
We both glanced at Mason.
He looked at me. “My dad knows Mallone. You say that you’d been noticing him for a while?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Mallone’s not known to be lazy. If I’m guessing, Mallone didn’t like something Royas was doing. He was letting you see him.”
Logan’s chin jerked up. “You mean, like we could flip him? He's that kind of PI?”
Mason slid his eyes to his brother. “I don’t think it’d hurt to try.” He glanced at me. “If you’re game?”
“Oh. I’m game. I’m all sorts of game.”
“I’ll make the appro—”
“Ooh, ooh! No. Let me.” Logan’s eyes were lit up.
“You sure?” Mason frowned, casting me a look.
“Yes. I’m so sure. I’ll be smooth about it. Don’t worry.”
Mason fully turned and looked at me.
When Logan used that phrase, we knew to worry.
He saw the look. “Come on. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You were arrested for stealing flamingos from a neighbor’s lawn.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“That was last week.”
Logan’s eyes flicked upward. “I was rescuing those flamingos. And no charges were pressed.”
“Because you offered pro bono work to the guy whose lawn you were stealing them from.”
“I was doing him a favor.”
I frowned. “What’d you do with the flamingos…? No. I don’t want to know.” I glanced at the clock. She called ten minutes ago, saying an hour.
This was going to be the longest hour of my life.
Both guys must’ve sensed the shift in me because they eased back. Logan patted me on the shoulder. “You know about her. That was the biggest obstacle. It’ll work out.”
I was staring at the door.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
It would.
It had to.
10
Quincey
I loved Nova from the first photograph I saw of her.
It’d been that quick.
I never thought about children growing up. Never considered if I wanted them or if I didn’t. Since I was little, my life had been all about dancing. I needed to move.
I loved the spontaneous, free movement.
Of course, that was not what ballet was.
Structure. Foundation. The body was regimented, pounded, trained, forced into a certain look, a certain motion. All to convey the opposite of what we were. We were fierce, but we needed to look slender. We were motivated, yet we were supposed to blend. Always blend until the moment we got to stand out. To bring gasps from those watching us. To make our bodies move in a way that books could make people feel, how a song could make someone cry. We did that by moving, by breaking free of what normal people could do and go beyond. Always beyond.