Stuck-Up Suit(79)

“I am a little sad, Chloe, yes…about Soraya. But that’s not why I wasn’t here over the past two days. I got out of work very late, but I won’t let another two days go by without coming to see you again, okay?”

“My daddy used to work late a lot.”

I wondered how much of that was actually work or Liam just f*cking around on Genevieve.

“He did, did he?”

“So, when will you stop being sad?”

“Not sure, but you know what? I already feel better just being with you.”

“That was how I felt when I met you. After my daddy died, you made me feel better even though I was still sad.”

I AM your Daddy.

And I love you so much.

Pulling her into me, I kissed her forehead. “I’m glad I could do that for you.”

Chloe and I played with her dollhouse for a bit until Genevieve entered and knelt down to join us. I could feel her staring at me, knowing she was eager to discuss things. After the other night, I was apprehensive about being alone with her again. Although with Chloe home, not much was going to be able to go down.

“Dinner will be ready in five,” Genevieve said before exiting the room.

Genevieve had baked a homemade prosciutto and fig flatbread pizza for us and a plain cheese one for Chloe. She kept filling my wine glass with Cabernet, and I let her, knowing it would help take the edge off of whatever discussion we were going to have later.

After I tucked Chloe in and read her a bedtime story, Genevieve was waiting for me in the kitchen, polishing off the last of the wine.

Before she could open her mouth, I said, “There’s really no need to get into it.”

“I need to apologize again. I came on too strongly. I don’t know what came over me. Seeing you lying there so comfortably in my house, it just took me back. That, coupled with the fact that we’d had too much to drink—”

“It wasn’t the alcohol, and you know it. You’ve made your intentions very clear for some time.”

“You’re right. Inebriated or not, I want you back, Graham. I’ll do whatever it takes to have the opportunity to make you happy again.”

“You thought that showing me your * was going to make me forget everything—what you did?”

When Genevieve disrobed in front of me that night, I’d jumped up off the couch and demanded that she put her clothes back on. She’d actually seemed shocked at my rejection.

“Did you assume that because of my breakup with Soraya, that I was going to give in? What happened with Soraya won’t change the fact that I simply can’t ever trust you again, Gen. And while I think you’d be great for a quick revenge f*ck, I’m sure as hell not going to screw my child’s mother if I have no intention of ever being with her.”

“You’re not thinking straight, Graham. We have a small window of opportunity now to change our daughter’s life. I’m not going to be able to wait around for you forever.”

“Let me save you some time.” I leaned in. “Stop waiting.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. How can you just close the door on that possibility so easily?”

“You closed the door, Genevieve. You closed it and threw away the key.”

“I made a mistake!”

“Shh. You’ll wake her,” I said. Closing my eyes for composure, I took a deep breath and said, “Chloe will always have my love. You, as her mother, will always have my respect. But you lost your chance at a future with me the day you decided to betray my trust. I want my daughter to have self-respect. I need to set a good example by holding onto my own.” Unable to tolerate any more of this conversation, I walked over to where my jacket was hanging and put it on. “ My driver is outside. I need to get back to the office. Thank you for dinner. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

***

MY OFFICE WAS COMPLETELY DARK except for a small amount of light coming from the green banker’s lamp on my desk. Fidgeting with my watch, all I could think about was that f*cking pile of newspapers taunting me from the across the room.

Over the past week, I’d repeatedly nixed the idea of going through all of the Ask Ida responses for any potential clues into Soraya’s mindset. Between admitting my sadness to Chloe and the argument with Genevieve tonight, I was feeling weaker.

Bringing the stack over to my desk, I sifted through each edition’s Ask Ida column like a lunatic. After thoroughly dissecting over a dozen responses, nothing stood out as unusual. That is, until I got to response number twenty.

A woman had written in with a dilemma about whether or not she should break up with her boyfriend whom she was deeply in love with—all so he could get back with the mother of his child. For the sake of the child. I looked at the date, which was shortly before we broke up. The other details outlined exactly what happened with Genevieve and me.

My heart started to hammer against my chest.

The name: Theresa, Brooklyn.

Theresa was her stepmother’s name.

If there was any doubt that Soraya had written in the question, the response only confirmed it. Ida’s advice was to break up with the boyfriend and suggested that “Theresa” make it appear as though she were cheating on him so that the poor fool would cut her off more easily.

“Smart over heart,” Ida had advised.