Penthouse Prince(39)

How’d the date go?

I tap my thumb against the side of my phone, choosing my words carefully. It feels more than a little weird to be texting Lex about a date with another guy, but if he specifically asked, I guess I can accommodate him.

It was fine.

Just fine? he replies.

I pause, questioning the sanity of giving him any more details, but with a date as bad as tonight’s, I have to tell someone. Maybe I can just give him a general idea of the night.

It was fine. We went to Luigi’s, but he turned out to be kind of a dud.

Luigi’s? Isn’t that a cheap chain place?

A smile pulls at my lips. I figured that would be the detail he’d latch onto. Before I get a chance to reply, he shoots me another text.

If that’s the best he can do, you’re better off with someone else.

I heave out a sigh, staring blankly at my phone.

Lex is right. I would be better off with someone else. But the only someone else on my mind lately is the one I shouldn’t want.





16




* * *





LEXINGTON



I haul in Grier’s last bag, once again amazed by everything a toddler needs for an overnight stay. “Am I forgetting anything?”

Mom chuckles. “I can’t imagine what else there could possibly be.”

“She’s had her afternoon snack, so you have plenty of time to cook dinner if you start soonish, and she should be set after that. But since you might stay up past her usual bedtime, I packed a couple of applesauce cups just in case, but you’ll want to give her those before her bath because she’ll get—”

“You already said all that five minutes ago, sugar,” Mom says gently, interrupting.

Practically vibrating with anxiety, I look at Dawn. “And you’re sure you’re okay with this? If not, I can take Grier right back home, no problem, and you can keep the extra pay.”

She’s clearly amused. “I promise it’s fine. I already agreed to help out, and I love kids.”

Grier grins at me from her throne, a.k.a. Mom’s lap. “Me ’n Gamma sumba . . . subber . . . summer party!”

“Yes, my sweet pea, we’re having a slumber party. And it’s a summer party too.” Mom kisses the top of her head. “We’re going to play fun games and eat yummy snacks—”

Grier wriggles and flaps her arms and shrieks in Mom’s embrace, absolutely ecstatic.

“—and Daddy definitely doesn’t have to worry about us, so he should just leave us to it and enjoy his night off.” Mom gives me a pointed look, smiling.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I’ll stop hovering and go. Have a good time, and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

When I get home, the house seems huge and empty and dead silent without my little spark of energy shooting all over the place. It hasn’t hit me until now that this will be the first time we’ve ever been separated for so long.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll pick her up and hear about all the fun she had with Grandma, and will bring her back home to our usual routine. And tonight . . .

“Now what?” I ask aloud, and laugh at myself.

I’ve barely had any free time at all for over two years, let alone twelve uninterrupted hours, so I’ve forgotten all the stuff I used to fill that free time with, and I’m drawing a blank. Eventually, I remember there was an interesting-sounding movie that came out last month. I search my streaming services until I find it, pour myself a splash of bourbon on the rocks, and sit down to watch. But I’ve gotten maybe ten minutes into it when there’s a knock at the door.

“Christ, never a moment of peace,” I mutter, getting up to answer it.

But my annoyance evaporates when I find Corrigan on my porch.

“Hi,” she says, holding up a large shopping bag. “Sorry for not texting or anything, but I just saw this at the store and I thought it would be great for Grier.” She looks around me, scanning the dim living room. “Where is she? Did you put her to bed early?”

“She’s having a sleepover at Mom’s tonight.” I take the bag and look at the box inside. It holds a tiny stepstool with an attached potty seat, bright purple and decorated with dancing cartoon monsters in a rainbow of colors.

“I figured she’s about the right age to start potty training soon, so I thought it’d be useful to help her climb up there.” Corrigan smiles.

“Wow, thank you. This’ll make my life a lot easier—and the design’s just the kind of thing she loves.” How like Corrigan to buy a gift both cute and practical. I try not to read too much into the fact that she was clearly thinking of me, as well as Grier. “How much do I owe you?”

She holds up her hand. “No way, don’t even think about trying to pay me back. Count it toward Grier’s next birthday or something.” Her gaze flicks over my shoulder again. “What’re you watching?”

“Terminal Honor 3. Just a dumb action flick, but it’s not the kind of thing I can watch with Grier around, and I figured it’d go well with bourbon.” An idea pops into my head, and I voice it before common sense can ruin it. “Want to join me?”

She considers, then slowly says, “You know what . . . why the hell not?”