Penthouse Prince(9)
“I know,” she says quietly into my shoulder. “But it’ll be all right, sweet pea. I’ve lived a good, long life. I’m ready for whatever the universe has in store for me.”
I’m not ready. I don’t know how I could ever be. But I release her anyway and try and force a smile on my face. She doesn’t need to see me frowning. “How are you feeling today?”
“Mmm . . . not the best, but well enough. Do you want anything? Some sweet tea? Gail just helped me bake some pecan snowballs yesterday.”
Grier snaps to attention. “Cookie?”
Mom smiles at her granddaughter and her whole face lights up. “You got it, little one. Off my lap first, though.”
Grier hops down, and Mom starts to pull the blanket aside.
“Stay there, Mom, I can get it,” I say, squeezing her hand gently.
“Nonsense. You’re a guest. And exercise is good for me, right, Gail?”
Gail hesitates for a second, then replies, “A little, yes.” She and I hold out our hands for Mom to grab.
With our help, Mom succeeds in pushing herself to her feet, slightly but noticeably short of breath, and starts off for the kitchen. Grier runs ahead of her with Flapflap dragging on the floor while Gail and I stay at her side. Gail takes down plates and cups, Mom distributes the cookies, and I handle the heavy jug of tea for her.
When we’re all back in the living room and seated with our snack, Mom asks Grier, “Is that your friend?”
Grier pauses from inhaling her cookie to hold up Flapflap toward Mom and shouts, “Bats eat bugs!” before erupting in giggles.
“That’s absolutely right. You know a lot about nature.” Mom looks back to me. “Oh, I almost forgot—would Grier like your old toys? They’re for boys, but I thought I’d ask.”
She still has those? “I’m sure she’d love them. She doesn’t seem to be into baby dolls and girly things. Before Flapflap, her favorite toy was an airplane.”
Mom nods in Gail’s direction who then disappears down the hall before reappearing with a large cardboard box. Grier gasps in delight and digs into the treasure trove, emerging with a G.I. Joe, which she mashes against Flapflap.
We watch her play for a few minutes before Mom asks, “So, have you thought about what I said last time we talked?”
“Which part?”
“Who’s going to watch Grier for you. She needs a woman’s influence, Lexington.” She gestures to where Grier is babbling and giggling as she dances the G.I. Joe across the floor.
I frown. Although I know it’s just because my mom’s old-fashioned, I can’t help being a little offended at the implication that my parenting is inadequate and I won’t be enough for my daughter. “So only women know how to raise children? Or is it because she likes bats and planes and action figures more than dolls?”
“You know what I mean. Her being a tomboy is fine, but you still need help.”
“I’m working on it, Mom.”
Although Corrigan hasn’t returned my call yet. All day I’ve found myself obsessing over whether I should leave her another oneor text Dak or something,
I mentally kick myself again. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. Calm down and stop acting like a damn lovesick teenager.
Look at me, a grown-ass man ready to make a fool of himself over someone who isn’t even a romantic option. I need to to remind myself that this is the same as hiring any other contractor or employee. Something I’ve done a thousand times before. I should be able to handle this in my sleep and I shouldn’t be allowing it to consume my thoughts the way it is.
But Corrigan isn’t just another contractor, and I’ve got the stomach gymnastics to prove it. Even after all this time, my heart still quickens when I think about her.
Mom perks up. “Does that mean you’ve started dating again?”
I hold back an exasperated groan. “No, Mom, I’m hiring a nanny. I don’t have the room in my life for a girlfrie—”
Grier pushes Flapflap and G.I. Joe into my knee. “Look. They’re best friends.”
Case in point. “Very cool, honey,” I reply, smiling down at my daughter.
“Are you sure?” Mom asks. “Life is short. You’re already thirty. You should really think about your future.”
I grimace. “Even if I had the time and energy, it would make me a real . . .” I glance at Grier, who has put the G.I. Joe on Flapflap’s back and is wiping them around the floor while making engine noises. “A real heel if I treated dating as a way to find free childcare services. A lot of women don’t want to sign up for that stuff by dating a single dad, and I can’t blame them for being up front about it.”
Mom sighs, looking even more tired. “A lot doesn’t mean all. You’ll never know who’s out there if you don’t look.”
Drop it, Mom. “Maybe, but there’s no way I’m getting into all that right now. It’s easier to approach this as a business transaction between professionals.”
My inappropriate inner voice whispers, Not that you’d complain if things got a little unprofessional between you and Corrigan, but I quash it. There’s too much history between us, and the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in forever is highlighting the good parts while glossing over how it all ended.