Chapter 16

16

T he speed, power, and inaccuracy of the internet never fail to surprise me. Appendectomies are typically quick procedures. In and out in under an hour. When Estlin called, we had just made the small incisions and placed the laparoscopic scopes. So by the time we finish, scrub out, talk to the family, and make sure everything is good with the patient, pictures of my daughter and her nanny looking like matching circus performers are all over the magazine's site and circulating to other media publications.

But it's not just the pictures. It's the headline that goes with it.

" Owen Fritz and his daughter find comfort and love with the new nanny ."

There's a very brief excerpt beneath it about how Estlin was playing and keeping a careful, watchful eye, and how after all Rory and I have been through, it's gratifying to see us happy and moving forward. Estlin. It said her fucking name. Thankfully, not her real first name and not her last name either, but it doesn't matter .

It's out there. And this reporter might as well have put a target on my back.

I know him too. Andy Burkhead. He was all over us during my divorce and is one of the people who posted leaked excerpts of Angelica's tell-all book. Rory is a minor, but the laws surrounding this aren't all that clear. Trust me, I've researched it. They didn't mention Rory by name, and the paper didn't publish it for "financial gain," only as an editorial piece, and the headline spoke about the new nanny and primarily focused on that.

All of which is protected by the First Amendment.

If I call the magazine or have my attorney do it in a fit and demand they remove it—which is useless at this point considering it's creeping everywhere—that target only grows. If I ignore it, there's a chance it's a one-off and dies quickly.

This is the game. One that I've had to play my entire life growing up a Fritz in this city, though the bullshit with my ex made national news.

It's not me I'm worried about. I can more than handle myself. It's Rory, and I could tell in Estlin's voice that this impacted her. As it is, I've notified our family's head of security and my attorney just in case this escalates.

By the time I finish signing out my patients and make my way home, it's nearly two hours later. I've thought about quitting my job or taking extended time off in the past. But surgeons can't do that and stay on top of their game with their skill and knowledge. So it's all or nothing, more or less, but more than less, I feel like a shitty father for it.

Like I'm not doing enough, and what I am doing is woefully inadequate.

My phone rings through my car, and I cringe when I see it's Jack. "Hey," I answer.

"Hey. I just wanted to call and check on things. I saw the photo, but Eddie didn't pick up her phone when I tried her just now."

"I'm on my way home. I was at the hospital all day, but I spoke with her earlier."

"And?" he prompts.

"And it's a picture and a headline. She said they were a little shaken but otherwise okay. I'm on my way home to them now."

He sighs. "Sorry. I just worry about her. We all do."

"I know, and I understand you care, but she's doing fine. Why do you all hover so much?"

Her mom has been over to check on her at least once a week since she moved in. Jack calls and comes by frequently to do the same. I don't like thinking that she's hiding something from me, but it's not the first time I've known that she is.

"She just went through some stuff when she was in Paris is all, and we didn't see her until she moved back home."

Hmm. So that means they didn't see her the entire time she was in London. "What's some stuff?"

"It's nothing. It's in the past. She's just the baby, and we hover."

Sounds like a bullshit, evasive answer, if ever there was one.

Before I can grill him a bit more, my father calls in. "I gotta go, Jack. My dad is calling. I'll catch up with you."

"Sure. Yeah. Later, brother."

He hangs up, and I answer my dad's call. "Hey. I take it you saw it?"

"Yes. We saw it," he answers. "Is Rory doing all right?"

"I don't know yet," I answer truthfully. "I'm on my way home to her now."

"And Eddie?" my mom questions. "Did you talk to her?"

"I did. She said they were a little shaken up, but I got the impression Rory is taking it hard."

My mother curses. "God, they're such bastards. It was a nice headline, by the way. "

I roll my eyes as I turn onto Beacon Street. "Don't start. Please, don't start. They were looking to get clicks, and I have no doubt they got them."

"Do you want us to come over?" my dad offers.

I think about this for a moment. "I was going to take Rory to Mason's game tomorrow, but maybe I won't. Maybe we'll just do dinner at my house instead. I don't want more attention on this right now than Rory needs."

"We're good with that. You can also bring her over for dinner at our house."

"Let's see how she's doing first, and we can figure it out from there," I tell my mom. "I'm almost home."

"Call us if you need us," my dad replies.

"Will do. Bye."

I disconnect the call and pull into the driveway, scanning around, and thankful that I don't see anyone lurking in the bushes. I close the garage behind me, step out of my car, and shut the door. For a moment, I linger. If Rory had been at the playground with my sister, Katy, or anyone else in my family, there wouldn't have been a picture, and there sure as hell wouldn't have been a headline like that.

Still, I can't blame Estlin or even be angry with her for this the way I'd like to.

It's like déjà fucking vu. I can't stand my daughter being on the internet again.

I drag a hand across my jaw as I enter the house, only to be assaulted with… Taylor Swift. Or at least her music is thumping loudly through the downstairs, along with two other voices singing along. Immediately after that, I smell… something sweet baking. Possibly cookies, but it's difficult to tell because I also smell garlic and tomatoes. Sauce maybe?

I enter the kitchen but stay back by the entrance, watching the scene before me. Rory has changed her outfit and is wearing her Princess Belle gown. Estlin is in the same outfit she was in earlier, minus the tutu, and both are dancing around the kitchen. Rory is doing twirls and wiggling her little hips and butt. Estlin is using a red-stained wooden spoon as a microphone, also wiggling her hips and butt, and in those yoga pants…

Christ. That hand on my jaw comes up my face and through my hair, until I grip the back of my neck.

Estlin removes the lid from a pot on the stove and stirs the sauce, taps the side of the spoon against the rim and covers it again before she turns back to Rory to continue their concert.

A wry sort of grin hits my lips. Rory has Katy, but Rory knows that Katy is also mine. Rory knows Katy and I talk, often in private. So I'm not sure how much Rory truly shares with Katy. Rory also has Wren, but again, that's her aunt.

But Estlin is Rory's.

I see it, even if I almost hate to admit it. Rory has had an incredible month at school, and we haven't had any behavioral issues there or here. She's been excited for her days with Estlin. They do stuff that is entirely based around Rory and her wants and needs. Hell, Estlin went out today wearing that tutu because, no doubt, Rory asked her to.

It's what Rory needs.

It's why I did this.

On one hand, it hurts my heart that she's gone so long without someone… well, not a mother figure per se, but someone she feels happy with and cared for by. A female someone. Someone she can connect with and relate to. Hell, Rory doesn't even talk to her therapist. I do more than she does, and now we only meet every other week because of it.

Rory needs to open up more. She has some abandonment issues that aren't minor, and we've been working on that since her mother left. I'm not sure that's the sort of thing that goes away with therapy. I think it'll require life reinforcement, and that's what I've been trying to do for her .

It solidifies my resolve to keep things indifferent and professional with Estlin even more. Rory has already lost enough in the most egregious of ways. She can't lose Estlin, and she certainly can't lose her because of me.

Pushing away from the doorway, I enter the kitchen, coming in close to the stove where Estlin is still dancing.

"What is all this?" I question only I startle Estlin, and in doing so, she swings around at light speed with the wooden spoon in her hand that thwacks me straight in the nuts. Sharp, stabbing pain shoots up through my balls into my stomach, where I cramp and immediately want to die.

My knees hit the floor, and I double over, wincing and nauseated as I grab my guys and try not to cry like a little bitch.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Estlin drops to the floor beside me, her hands all over me as she attempts to turn me so she can assess the damage. "Where did I—oh." She snickers and does a crap job of covering it as a cough when she sees where my hands are. "Damn, that has to hurt."

"It does," I wheeze, my forehead meeting the cool wood floor. "Maybe you should watch where you swing that thing."

"You startled me. I didn't hear you come in. I certainly didn't mean to take out your future children with a wooden spoon." She snickers again, only to clear her throat. "Can I get you some ice? Do you even put ice on… them?" She laughs lightly as she tries—and fails—to hide her amusement at my expense.

"What happened?" Rory flies over and jumps on me, which does not help. "Daddy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I manage, though I'm still panting and breathless. "Estlin just hit me with her spoon is all."

"Oh no. Do you need a Band-Aid? Daddy, you're bleeding!"

"What?!" both Estlin and I exclaim.

"Look!" Rory points in abject horror at the red stain right in the center of my crotch.

Estlin shoots on top of me, practically falling on me to get a better look. Her hands go straight for my pants and graze my cock. And even though I'm in pain and my balls feel like they're about to explode, my dick gives a stupid twitch.

Her eyes round when she feels it, and I push her hands away, pinning her with a meaningful look. "It's not blood. It's sauce."

And when she realizes she just accidentally touched my dick right in front of my daughter after nailing me in the balls and covering me in sauce, she cracks, falling back onto the floor and exploding into hysterics.

"It's not funny," I grumble.

"I'm sorry," she gasps breathlessly. "I can't help it. I just… and then I." More uncontrollable laughter.

I roll my eyes as I sit up slowly, my nuts aching terribly. "Yes. You did, and then you did. And you're not sorry."

Her hands are on her face as she laughs into them. I lean back against the cabinet, drawing my knees up and staring down at my tomato sauce-covered slacks. Well, these are ruined.

"I am. Sorta. It's just funny. You have to admit that."

It is sort of funny now that I don't feel like I'm about to die, but I'll never admit that to her.

"I didn't mean to… well, do either of those things. I swear." She holds up a hand. "At least the sauce wasn't hot." Something about that sets her off again, and she cackles, rocking back and forth on the floor.

I poke her with my foot. "Are you done yet?"

"Almost. I promise." She wipes at tears streaming down the sides of her face.

"Why is she laughing like that?" Rory stares at her in bewilderment.

I shrug at Rory. "Estlin has a very strange sense of humor and a very poor sense of general anatomy."

"You're the doctor," Estlin quips, her laughter finally trailing off. "But I think I just got my anatomy lesson the hard way." She laughs some more, and I poke her in the leg again with my foot.

"Really? We're going there?" Thankfully, she's too busy laughing to see the smirk I'm failing to hide.

"Sorry. I swear I'm done now." The timer on the Alexa goes off. "Alexa, stop," Estlin calls out. "That's the cookies. Don't get up on my account," she teases, and I so want to flip her off. She hops up, slips on oven mitts, and then pulls out a tray of cookies from the oven, moving them immediately onto a cooling rack.

"Are you sure you don't need a Band-Aid?"

I give Rory a kiss on the cheek. "I don't need a Band-Aid, Moonshine, but you're sweet to ask."

"Here." Estlin offers me her hand, and reluctantly I take it, ignoring the electric pulse as I do. She helps me up off the floor, biting into her lip to contain her smile as she gives me a sheepish look. "I truly am sorry for… all of that." She swirls a finger down, indicating where she hit me, and yep, my dick pulses a little at her acknowledging him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod. "Lesson learned. Next time, I'll announce myself before I come anywhere near you."

"Probably smart." She gives me a cheeky wink. "Especially if I'm armed the way I was. We decided since we had a bit of a rough afternoon that we'd make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies—my favorite—and spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread since that's her favorite dinner."

"You did?"

"Yep. We've had the best time. Right, kiddo? You, me, dancing, singing, cooking, and baking."

Rory jumps up and gives Estlin a high-five, a smile all over her little face.

Estlin leans into me and whispers, "Don't worry, I supervised everything, and the food should be amazing despite her wanting to add in weird ingredients."

Pleasure curls deep in my chest as heat floods me everywhere, making my heart beat off-rhythm and my breath short once again. The sensation flowing through me is fucking intoxicating and utterly delicious. Just like the woman standing before me.

The woman I want to kiss into next week and pleasure for eternity for putting my little girl first and doing what she can to comfort her.

The woman I swore not even five minutes ago that I would stay indifferent and professional toward at all costs.

The woman who, if I'm not careful, I could lose my head and my heart to.