Tattered, p.21

Tattered, page 21

 

Tattered
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  I stood and pulled back Charlie’s chair. “We can do better than eating here, can’t we?”

  “Yeah,” she slid off the chair. “This place is yucky.”

  At that exact moment, the waiter returned. His gasp echoed through the room.

  Thea coughed, trying to cover up her laugh as she stood and set her napkin on the table. “She’s only six. Too young to appreciate gourmet.”

  When the waiter’s shocked look turned sour, it was my turn to hold back a laugh.

  “Please send my regards to David.” I took my wallet out of my jacket, dropping three hundred-dollar bills on the table. “The food and wine can go on my tab. That is for your trouble.” Then with Charlie’s hand in mine, I walked us out of the restaurant.

  When we hit the sidewalk, Thea started laughing. It began as a small giggle but turned into a belly laugh. A smile spread across my face when Charlie joined in too, and after a moment, the three of us were howling.

  “What are we doing for dinner?” I asked as my laughter died down. “Because I obviously can’t be trusted to choose.”

  Thea looked up and down the street, searching for options. “Um . . . let’s see.”

  “How about McDonald’s?” Charlie asked.

  “I’ve never eaten at McDonald’s.”

  “What?” Thea’s head whipped around to me. “You’ve never eaten at McDonald’s?”

  I smiled. There’s my Thea. Repeating what she thought were ridiculous statements as loud questions.

  “I’ve never been to McDonald’s.”

  “Oh my god.” She looked to Charlie. “We’re definitely doing McDonald’s.”

  “Yesssss,” Charlie hissed, doing a fist bump.

  I chuckled and took out my phone, calling us a car. Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of a neon menu the size of New Jersey. “I have no idea what to get.”

  “I’ll order for you.” She stepped up to the counter and ordered Charlie a Happy Meal—with the boy’s toy—herself two cheeseburgers with fries, and me a double-something-pounder-with-cheese.

  I reached for my wallet, thinking I was going to need Yuri to step up our workout in the morning, but before I could get my credit card, Thea pulled some cash from her purse.

  “No, I’ll pay.”

  “I’ve got it.” She ignored me and handed the cash to the clerk. “I didn’t protest when you gave me a temporary credit card for the dress shopping because designer gowns aren’t in my budget. But McDonald’s is something I can afford.”

  It had actually surprised me when she’d taken my credit card so willingly. I’d braced for an argument that would rival some of the most intense purchase negotiations at the firm. But Thea had agreed immediately and tucked the card into her pocket with nothing other than a thank-you and a kiss.

  “Besides,” she smiled at the clerk and took her receipt, “your platinum would probably break the credit card readers here.”

  I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure everywhere takes my platinum.”

  I didn’t correct her that it was actually our platinum. Nothing about the card in her purse was temporary since I’d had Sean add her name to my account.

  “So how is it that you’ve never been to a McDonald’s?” she asked as we went to the fountain machine to fill our soda cups while Charlie trailed behind, drinking her real chocolate milk.

  “I don’t know. I’ve always had a chef.”

  “Even in college? You never wanted to try a Big Mac?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t heard of McDonald’s before. I just never had the urge to eat here.” I patted my flat stomach. “And this doesn’t happen by eating fast food.”

  “Well this,” she laughed, mimicking my gesture on her own incredible curves, “loves McDonald’s. I guess we’ll just have to think of a few things you can do to burn some extra calories tonight.”

  “What are calories?” Charlie asked. Her smile was back, something I hadn’t seen enough of this week.

  “Calories are yummy,” Thea answered with a laugh.

  I smiled. Damn, I’d missed these two this week. Work had been brutal at the firm. Every night, I’d left a pile of papers on my desk so I could rush home before Charlie went to bed. What I really needed was a weekend spent in the office to catch up with both client demands and my overdue tasks at the foundation.

  But it would all have to wait. I felt awful for not being able to spend more time with Thea and Charlie during their first week in New York. I just hoped that after a month of them living here, I’d be caught up at work and could dedicate the time to them that they deserved.

  Having them waiting for me each night had forced me to come to a realization.

  It was time to reprioritize.

  A teenager called our number over the loudspeaker and I went up to get our food. When I set Charlie’s Happy Meal box in front of her, she tore into it, wasting no time before inhaling her food. Thea did the same and I followed suit.

  “Well?” Thea asked before shoving three fries in her mouth.

  “It’s good. Not as good as David’s Table, but the next time I want to take you there, we’ll just go the two of us.”

  The smile on her face fell as she chewed.

  All right. Forget that idea.

  I’d taken many women to that restaurant over the years and each one had been thoroughly impressed by the food and atmosphere. But Thea wasn’t like any woman I’d ever met, and if she wanted fast food over gourmet, then we’d come here on our date nights.

  Charlie belched and slapped a hand over her mouth, then giggled. “Excuse me.”

  “Feeling better, peanut?”

  She nodded. “My tummy was hungry.”

  “Now that we’re back to normal,” Thea set down her burger and gave Charlie a stern look, “I think you need to apologize to your dad. You weren’t very nice when we were at his favorite restaurant.”

  Charlie’s shoulders fell as she twirled a french fry in her ketchup. “Sorry, Daddy.”

  “It’s o—” Wait, what? Did she just call me Daddy?

  My eyes snapped to Thea, whose mouth was hanging open. Never had a word sounded so good. I’d always hoped that one day Charlie would want to call me Dad and she’d love me as much as I loved her. But I’d been prepared to wait years to get us to that place.

  “I, um . . .” I paused to recover, then placed my hand on her knee. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I should have thought about it more before taking you there for dinner.”

  She peeked up from underneath her lashes.

  “I like it when you call me Daddy, but you don’t have to. Would you rather call me Logan?”

  Say no, Charlie. Please, don’t take it back.

  She shook her head. “I want to call you Daddy.”

  Relief and pure happiness surged. I fought the urge to yank her out of that chair and crush her to my chest by eating another fry.

  Oh, fuck it.

  I flew out of my chair, sending it sliding backward a few feet. Then I scooped Charlie off her bench and hugged her close.

  She didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around my neck.

  Over her shoulder, Thea swiped her eyes dry.

  “I love you, Charlie,” I said into her ear.

  I’d known I loved her the moment she pulled me into her fort. Or maybe the first day I’d seen her beautiful brown eyes as she’d taken a frog from my hands. I could barely remember my life before Charlie, and it was just weeks ago.

  “I love you too,” she whispered back.

  I smiled. That was one of the Landry girls down, now I just had one to go.

  “Are you all done eating?”

  She nodded against my suit.

  “Let’s get you home.”

  Her legs around my waist cinched tight, so I wouldn’t put her down. “Okay, Daddy.”

  One night later, I’d jumped from one end of the dining spectrum to the other. Logan and I were at the fundraising gala, sitting in the middle of the nicest room I’d ever seen. It was as far from McDonald’s as you could get.

  There were no fluorescent lights here. The ballroom was lit with crystal chandeliers hanging from gold-trimmed ceilings. The gleaming floors, not littered with fallen fries, were made from Italian marble. And the tables were covered in silk linens. I wouldn’t dare drop a blob of ketchup off my hand-painted plate.

  “Would you like more champagne?” Logan asked, leaning over to speak in my ear.

  “Yes, please.” Champagne made me loose-lipped, so I normally avoided it, but since I didn’t have much to say tonight, that wouldn’t be a problem.

  He signaled to a waiter, who brought over a tray of champagne in crystal flutes. With my new glass in place, Logan kissed my cheek, then turned to continue his conversation with the man sitting on his other side.

  We were seated at an elegant round table with a tall floral arrangement in the center. The china had delicate floral patterns and was adorned with real gold. And there were enough utensils in front of me to make one of my bird’s nests, maybe two.

  I sipped my champagne, listening to the murmur of conversation.

  We’d arrived a few hours ago, and I’d maybe said three sentences in all that time. Nice to meet you when I’d been introduced to a slew of people whose names I’d immediately forgotten. Thank you when I was complimented on my gown. Yes, please when I’d been offered a glass of champagne.

  All through the cocktail hour, I’d forced a pleasant smile. My cheeks hurt by the time we sat down at our table and not in a good way, like when I’d been laughing for too long. After the dinner service started, I did my best to keep up with the conversation, but after thirty minutes of listening to name dropping and vacation plans to foreign countries I’d never see, I zoned out.

  Logan hadn’t noticed. He was currently in a deep discussion with three men on our side of the table. For an hour, they’d been discussing some change to a stock market regulation and how it would impact the foundation’s investment strategy.

  So here I was, silently drinking champagne and waiting for the next round of food to be delivered in hopes it would curb the major buzz I was working.

  In this room full of people, smiling and laughing, I was alone.

  It had been years since I’d felt this empty hole in my chest. The last time I’d been this lonely had been after Jackson had moved to Montana. But I knew this feeling well. It was the same one I’d had nearly every night of my childhood when I’d climbed into my tiny cot without anyone to tuck me in or wish me sweet dreams. The same feeling I’d had when another child in the orphanage would get adopted into a family and leave me behind.

  By the time I’d turned seventeen, I’d been the only kid left in that home. Why I hadn’t been sent to a foster home was still a mystery, but somehow, the orphanage had stayed open. It had just been me and the director living there, though I rarely saw her emerge from her apartment in the basement.

  Hazel would come in for a few hours to make me meals. She’d spend time with me after school, helping me with homework, but eventually, she’d have to go home. Jackson could only stay until dark. So after they’d leave, it would just be me roaming the halls without anything to do but read. The director could afford electricity for the entire building but not a television to keep me entertained.

  I’d finally escaped the loneliness in Lark Cove.

  “You hate this, don’t you?”

  “Huh?” I turned to Nolan Fennessy, who was sitting on my other side. “Oh, no. Not at all,” I lied. “I’m, uh . . . just taking it all in.” I didn’t want to confess to Logan’s coworker that I’d rather be a hundred other places than in this ballroom.

  He saw through my lie and grinned. “My wife hates coming to these too. She told me last year she’d approve of me finding a stand-in woman just so she could stay home in her yoga pants.”

  I smiled, the first real smile of the night. “I think your wife and I could be best friends.”

  “She accompanies me every once in a while, but normally I come with Logan. You stole my date.”

  “Sorry.” I laughed. “You can have him back for the next one.”

  “Not sticking around?”

  “No, I’m leaving after the weekend.” I chased down a pang of guilt with another sip of champagne.

  Leaving was the right thing to do, for all of us. Trying to fit square pegs into round holes never worked. But ever since I’d come to that realization yesterday, I’d had a miserable ache in my heart.

  The ache twisted and tugged every time I tried to sort through my feelings. When it came time to end this, Logan would demand an explanation. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of one that he wouldn’t shred to pieces.

  How did I tell him that I loved him, but I wouldn’t uproot my life and fit it into his?

  It didn’t make sense in my head.

  But it did in my heart.

  I knew Logan couldn’t give up everything here to move to Montana. I wouldn’t ask him to. So for us to be together, I had to give.

  It was tempting. All I had to do was change my address, but the idea of moving here made me sick. Yet so did the thought of leaving Logan.

  “Where’s Charlie tonight?” Nolan asked. “You didn’t leave her with his family, did you?”

  “Uh . . . no.” I gave him a sideways glance. “She’s at the penthouse with Piper. But now I’m even more nervous about meeting his parents. Thanks for that.”

  Nolan chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. They’re great people. But I’m sure Charlie will have a much better night with Piper. She loves kids and has been chomping at the bit to spend time with Logan’s daughter. Charlie will have much more fun with Piper than she would at the Kendrick estate. It’s, shall we say, stuffy.”

  Stuffy. As in rich. As in don’t touch the valuables. I made a mental note to talk to Charlie in private before we went to the estate tomorrow. I didn’t want her playing with anything that I couldn’t afford to replace if broken.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please have your attention.” The emcee took the stage in the middle of the dance floor and began his spiel.

  Logan had told me the fundraiser was for an organization dedicated to improving the quality of life for people below the poverty line. After ten minutes of the speaker’s pitch, I’d had enough and it had just started.

  On and on he droned, talking about how the poor people in the city, or “the unfortunate,” desperately needed the donations from “New York’s finest.” The irony of my entire situation ruined my appetite. I didn’t touch a bit of the salmon sashimi with olive lemon-mustard emulsion. When he began speaking about how there were people in the city going without phones or internet service, the “essentials,” I nearly choked on my mango parfait.

  “Puke,” I muttered.

  “What was that?” Logan asked, leaning in closer.

  “Sorry.” Damn you, champagne. “I meant to say that in my head.”

  Nolan must have heard me too because he chuckled. “You don’t approve of the message?”

  I scoffed. “You know what ‘the unfortunate’ need? Essentials. Real essentials. Enough food so they can eat three times a day, every day. They need enough quarters to go to the laundry mat every week. They need tampons, for Christ’s sake. What they don’t need are some rich people sitting in a ballroom feeling sorry for them because they don’t have internet or cable TV.”

  I ended my rant on a huff, then looked up from the spoon I’d been clutching in my fist. All eyes around the table were on me.

  “Thea.” Logan put his hand on my knee.

  Goddamn it. I knew this would happen. I knew I’d embarrass him. I didn’t belong here and I had no clue how to act or what to say.

  The sting of tears pricked my eyes, but I couldn’t cry in front of these people.

  “Excuse me,” I whispered, setting down my spoon.

  Before Logan could protest, I was out of my chair, walking as quickly as I could in my uncomfortable heels to the back of the ballroom. I slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the hallway was empty.

  “Don’t cry.” I looked up at the ceiling and took a long breath. Then another. When the sting in my nose eased, I clicked down the hall toward the restroom.

  I opened the door and hurried through the sitting room to the actual restroom. Then I picked the middle mirror and checked my face.

  Despite the sick feeling in my stomach, at least I looked pretty.

  Whoever my parents were, I owed them one bit of thanks. They’d given me thick hair and flawless skin. I didn’t have to wear much makeup, usually just eyeliner and mascara. And my hair had a natural sheen most women couldn’t pay for.

  Logan had offered to bring in a stylist for me tonight, but I’d opted to get ready myself. Charlie had sat on the counter in his bathroom, watching as I’d carefully applied eyeshadow, blush and lipstick. Then I’d straightened my hair into shining panels that hung down my back.

  And though I’d been in such a rush to pick this dress yesterday, it was gorgeous. The top had a simple, sleeveless cut with a crew neckline. It was covered with fine lace, giving it an elegant touch. Only the front had a strip of lace missing, running from the collar down my cleavage to right above my waist, making it sexy and a little badass.

  The full-length skirt flowed when I walked and had a long slit up the front. There were even hidden pockets for my lip gloss. It was made by some designer who made gowns for actresses going to award shows. This poor dress wouldn’t get much use, stuffed in the back of my closet in Lark Cove.

  I didn’t belong in this fancy dress or elegant bathroom. I might not be the right woman for Logan, but I was here for tonight. I was his for tonight.

  And I owed him an apology.

  I reapplied some lip gloss and fixed a misplaced strand of hair, then left the restroom. I opened the door to the hallway but stopped short.

  Logan was standing on the opposite wall, as handsome as ever in his tuxedo. This man could make bowties sexy.

  “Hi,” I sighed. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

  He pushed off the wall, meeting me in the middle of the hallway. He came right into my space and wrapped me in his arms. “Baby, I’ve told you this before. You could never embarrass me.”

 

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