Chapter Twenty-Three

Gray

Sloane gestures at me from the corner table. She’s dressed up, wearing a tight dress and expensive jewelry on her ears, throat, and wrists. All it does is make me want to be with Callie, sit on my back porch and watch her in the yard with Emery, Callie wearing one of her simple summer dresses that draws out her natural beauty.

“Sloane,” I say tersely.

She smiles tightly. “You sound very happy to see me,” she says sarcastically.

“I’m just wondering what this is all about. You never want to meet.”

“Well, things could be better between us, couldn’t they? For Emery’s sake?”

“Yes, they could,” I agree.

She orders a glass of champagne. I order sparkling water. She looks a little annoyed that I’m not drinking, too, but she doesn’t say anything about it. My mood is in the gutter, a pit devouring any good feelings I could have. I can’t stop thinking about leaving Callie. No kiss. No hug. Just coldness, as if we’re strangers. Which we are… But I can’t convince myself of that.

“How are things with the nanny?”

“I let her go,” I tell Sloane.

“Oh?” Sloane can’t even hide her smile. It makes me sick. “Why?”

“Scheduling issues,” I lie. “So, why did you want to meet?”

Her eyes gleam hungrily as though she wants to ask about these so-called scheduling issues. Sloane rests her chin on her hands and says, “I want to be a bigger part of Emery’s life. But I don’t want things to get ugly in court.”

That sounds vaguely like a threat, but I don’t rise to it. “If we handle it correctly, I don’t see why you couldn’t see more of her. But you have to understand, she’s her own person. She’s not going to become your dream daughter on command. Or behave the way you want just like that .” I snap my fingers.

“I know,” Sloane snaps. “I never expected her to.”

She did, but I’m not going to point out the obvious. If she wants to play make-believe, then fine, let her. Goddamn, I’m in a vicious mood. I can’t stop thinking about the way Callie said goodbye, a croak in her voice. I wanted to turn back, grab her, kiss her again. But her father was standing at her side. It was probably for the best.

“We can discuss regular visits,” I say.

Sloane nods slowly. “Are you going to get a new nanny?”

“What does that have to do with your visits?”

She takes a long sip of champagne, then says, “I’m just asking…”

“I’m just asking a question, too,” I grit out. “I’d like an answer.”

“Maybe I’ll have to work my visits around a new nanny.” Sloane shrugs.

I lean forward, knowing I need to remain calm, knowing this could mean instigating something with Sloane. But I’m too amped up after leaving Callie. It shouldn’t feel this way, but I’m so sick of thinking of should and shouldn’t . I shouldn’t have said all those things to Callie last night, but I did, and I don’t want to take any of it back.

“Let’s be real, Sloane. You saw that I had feelings for Callie. And, even if you never had feelings for me, even if we were wrong from the start, you wanted to take that away. Why?”

Sloane’s lip curls. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I snap. “Why, Sloane? Why does it matter to you if I fall in love with somebody when we were never in love?”

Sloane gasps. “So you love her?”

I need to backtrack. Fast. Right now. I need to rewind and try and talk myself back from the ledge. Talking about love with Sloane, of all people—it’s like I’m poking a wild animal.

“I think I’m falling in love with her,” I say. “Emery loves her, too. I know I’m crazy for telling you this. But the thing is, Sloane, there’s a way we can work this out, so it’s good for everybody . Me finding a woman who cares about Emery is good for her. If you could somehow find it in your heart not to hate or resent me for it, that would be good for Emery, too. You could see her more often—she could have two women in her life who care about her. But you won’t, will you?” I say, raising my voice. “No, you’ll want to tear me down for it out of some sick resentment or jealousy. You don’t want me for yourself. But you don’t want anybody else to have me either.”

She grips the edge of the table, leaning back, looking at me with shock gripping her features. “Is that seriously what you think of me?”

“Sloane, you found her ex-boss , gave him a fake name , and then brought him as your date .” With each emphasized word, I aim a finger at her.

She flinches, looking almost guilty for the first time I can remember. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ll admit that. I was… well, let’s say I wasn’t just drunk, okay? Let’s say I’ve been getting involved with certain things that have clouded my thinking.”

“And now?”

“I’ve decided to leave those things behind.”

So she was on drugs, then, and she expected me to believe that’s why she was behaving that way. I’m expected to let her ignore any sense of personal responsibility. “Well, that’s good,” I murmur. “If you’re going to see Emery more regularly, it’d be better if you were sober.”

There’s a long pause. Sloane finally says, “Can you see how it would be difficult for me, Gray? When we were together, you were cold. I didn’t think you were capable of caring. And then this Callie comes along, and it’s like you’re a new man.”

“But you don’t want me, Sloane.”

She shakes her head slowly. “Well, maybe not.”

“So why does it matter?”

“It’s… offensive,” she murmurs. “It’s painful. It’s rude .”

“Rude,” I repeat with a sneer.

“I wasn’t enough for you, but this woman is. This stranger. Somehow. She’s enough for you and my daughter.”

I stand up and lay my hands on the table. “Callie’s more than enough, I won’t lie. Callie means everything to me. I’m tired of running from what I felt the first moment I laid eyes on her. Callie’s the angel I’ve been waiting for my entire life without even realizing I was waiting. I’m sorry, Sloane, but I can’t lie about it. Not now it’s over.”

That makes no sense—this is when I should be willing to lie about it. I should tell Sloane what she wants to hear. Maybe she’s being somewhat reasonable now, but that won’t last if she goes back to whatever addiction she’s been nurturing all this time, whatever drug brought out her natural sadism.

“You really care about her,” Sloane whispers, sounding bitter and awed at the same time. It’s as if she’s just realized that a dog is capable of speech. That’s how alien the idea is to her—that I’m capable of feeling.

I love her , I almost say, even if it should be impossible, even if it probably means I’m more than a little insane.

“Yes, I do,” I growl. “I know I’ve played this wrong. I should’ve kept you sweet and told you she doesn’t mean a thing to me. But the truth, Sloane? Callie means everything to me.”

Which makes letting her go all the more painful.

***

“I didn’t handle it very well,” I admit to Wes when I get home.

Emery is in the library, unusually quiet and withdrawn, staring down at her book.

“I probably antagonized her,” I murmur. “Dammit…”

“She seemed pissed on the phone,” Wes replies with a sigh. “But I tried to talk her down.”

I look at him in surprise. “You did?”

“I tried to make her see that you caring for Callie doesn’t mean she has no place in Emery’s life.”

“I thought you wanted me to end things with Callie.”

Wes runs his hand across his lean face. “Emery’s done a lot of talking today,” Wes mutters. “Some crying, too.” His voice falters. “It was heartbreaking, man.”

“What has she been saying?” I ask, curious.

We’re sitting on the library balcony, overlooking the backyard. Every so often, I turn, looking over my shoulder at my daughter. She’s staring down at her book as if her life—or maybe her sanity—depends on her remaining focused on it—as if she’s terrified of what will happen if she lets her attention slip if she starts thinking about Callie. It’s like she’s constantly fighting off tears.

“She’s never seen you as happy as you were with Callie. She didn’t even know her dad could be that happy. She also said that Callie was like a magic potion, that she changed you. She said she was thinking about years in the future—when she was, quote, ‘really, really old’—about how Callie would still be in her life.”

“That’s why we had to end things,” I mutter. “We can’t commit to something like that after only a couple weeks—not even.”

“You said that like a rehearsed line,” Wes mutters. “As if you don’t believe it but think it’s what you need to say.”

“You’re right on the money there,” I groan. “But it doesn’t mean it’s not true, does it?”

“Maybe not,” Wes says. “But the way Emery’s been talking today, hell, she’s got me thinking about doing a whole one-eighty on the issue.”

“You haven’t trusted Callie since the start.”

“That was before I saw how much she meant to you and Emery. I really saw it and heard my niece’s sobs. And there’s something else. Apparently, Sloane has been dabbling in some pretty nasty stuff.”

“Yeah, she alluded to drugs earlier. Probably wants to use it as an excuse for all her bad behavior.”

Wes sighs darkly. “She’s still my sister, Gray.”

“You’re right. I don’t mean to be cruel. It’s just, after what she did to Callie…”

“I’m not saying any of this is easy,” he sighs. “But hell, it seems like Emery had a whole life built in her head. You, her, Callie. She even said, ‘And Mommy could come and visit, right, and be a part of the big happy family. But only sometimes.’ I’d never tell Sloane that last part, obviously, but it’s like Emery’s got this whole future mapped out.”

“That future looks sweet to me,” I say.

“You got any idea how shocking it is to hear you say that?”

I shrug. “I know. But I can’t keep avoiding the truth. Callie means a lot to me. Leaving her earlier was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m already thinking about driving back into the city, finding her, kissing her, owning her…” I shudder. “Sorry, bro. I know I probably sound nuts.”

“You sound like one of my lovestruck artists,” he says. After a pause, he continues, “I don’t think you can let her go.”

“Are you seriously telling me to antagonize your sister?”

“I know, I know,” Wes mutters. “But I know you, Gray. You’ll never forgive yourself if you let this chance pass you by. You’ve never even been close to the real deal before.”

“You’re giving me whiplash, Wes.”

“I know ,” he says with a rueful smirk. “If you want to blame anyone, blame Emery. But if you think there’s a chance this could really work, I think you owe it to yourself and to that perfect little girl to try.”

Hunger and intense need take hold of me. I try to stop myself from getting inflated with purpose. I try and slow myself down. Sloane could still cause trouble, and Callie might still throw that ugly word at me. Controlling . As if I’m some raving lunatic.

“I’m not going to do anything rash tonight,” I say. “Sloane could still lose her mind.”

“True,” Wes says. “But maybe if I talk to her, I can make her see sense.” I look at him, not even trying to hide my shock. He nods slowly. “I know. You never thought I’d make an offer like this—and, truth be told, I never thought I would either. But after hearing that little girl pour her heart out, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“I came on pretty strong with Callie,” I murmur. “Sloane might not be the only issue.”

“I can’t help you with the romantic part,” he replies, chuckling. “You know I’ve never been a one-lady man.”

It’s true. Wes has flitted from short-term relationship to short-term relationship ever since we were kids. I’ve been even worse—a no-lady man, telling myself I’m perfectly content to live and, hell, this is morbid, but die alone.

Now, I’ve found someone. It could end in ruin. I could be making a terrible mistake. But somehow, I know that the bigger mistake would be letting this chance pass me by.

“Wes, would you mind taking care of Emery a while longer?”

It shocks the hell out of me when Wes turns to me with a smile. Of all the reactions I’ve expected over the years when I thought fleetingly about finding another woman—never anybody specific, couldn’t imagine it before Callie came along—a smile wasn’t one of them. “Sure thing,” he says.