Eighteen: Pierce

EIGHTEEN

PIERCE

D enise pulled her Bentley in front of my condo on a Saturday night.

After sixteen hours of nonstop work, I’d hoped to feel a boost of euphoria like I used to, but the only thing I felt was exhaustion.

And I couldn’t admit to anyone that my reason for working late every night didn’t stem from passion; it was because I couldn’t handle sharing my home with the sexiest woman on the planet.

I need to see if I’ve broken the record for cold showers.

“It’s so good to have you back with the team.” She looked at me.

“I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I opened the door. “I missed working with you and Brian.”

“Wait.” She grabbed my arm. “I’ve been holding off on this, because I didn’t know how to bring it up, but…Are we ever going to pick up where we left off at the charity dinner?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pierce, we were nearly together before you left that night, and then you became a dad.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know.” She smiled. “I’m still here waiting, though, and we could be special together.” She leaned across the gears and hugged me, whispering, “I missed you.”

I didn’t feel anything.

She hadn’t crossed my mind since that night, and the only person I wanted was upstairs with my children.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Denise,” I said.

“Okay.” She blushed as I stepped out of the car. “See you tomorrow.”

I waited for her to drive away before approaching the new doorman.

“Welcome back home, Mr. Dawson.” He tipped his hat.

“Thank you, Mr. Harris,” I said. “Anything I should know?”

“No, sir,” he said. “It’s been a relatively quiet day. Miss Hawthorne and the babies had a good day from what I could see.”

“What about Olivia?”

“She showed me her mother’s new perfume commercial,” he said. “She’s excited to go home to Los Angeles this month.”

I doubt that’s happening.

“Thank you for the updates.” I strolled inside the building and headed to my penthouse.

Walking straight to the twins’ room, I pushed the door open but didn’t see them in their cribs.

The only sign of life was the crackling from their hearth.

Confused, I checked Olivia’s room. Her teddy bear collection stared at me as I shook the sheets on her empty bed.

I rushed to the kitchen, opening the doors to every room I passed.

Nothing.

With my pulse racing, I called Harlow’s phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

Olivia’s phone served me the same.

What the hell is going on?

“Jerry?” I called him as I stepped inside Harlow’s empty suite. “Jerry, where the hell are my children?”

“At home, sir.”

“No, they’re missing.” My chest ached. “And so is their nanny.”

“I’ll have the entire security team on it within two minutes,” he said. “Stay on the line.”

“The new doorman said nothing was wrong.” I hit the lights in the library and rushed to the parlor.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

“Do you think Miss Hawthorne took them out via the freight exit?”

“I don’t see why she would ever do that, sir.”

“To punish me.”

“For what?”

“She hasn’t spoken to me since I sent her to San Francisco to get William’s pacifier.”

“I thought you sent her there to get her out of your sight for a while?”

“I killed two birds with one stone.” My heart was constricting at the mere thought of my children going missing. “The moment we find out where the hell she took them, I swear to God, I will?—”

I stopped talking when I entered my theater room.

They were all here.

Safe and sound.

William and Charlotte lay sleeping on the oversized chaise while Harlow softly snored beside them.

Olivia was curled into a ball in the back row, as if she’d snuck in here after them.

Kissing the twins’ foreheads, I pulled a blanket over Harlow and hit the lights.