8. Theo

8

THEO

I stare down at my phone.

Who knew a single text could grab my attention and keep it for forty-eight hours?

Home. Thank you again. My night would have gone differently if you hadn't stepped in.

When Abigail's name popped up on my phone in the middle of my nightcap with Helene, I had to interrupt the conversation, which is most likely why I have not heard back from Helene since our date.

She clearly is a woman of expectations, which I cannot begrudge.

But I also think my preoccupation with Abigail was obvious.

"My best friend's daughter, you understand," I said in my defense.

That defense became weaker and weaker as the night went on until she yawned loudly and said, "I'm going to go home."

My response to Abigial is anemic at best. I spent far too long crafting it.

It was my pleasure.

Pleasure. Like I was getting something out of it.

I admit, I did get something out of it. I was able to be her white knight, remove her from a situation that was so clearly awful, it broadcasted itself across the bar.

Still, though, I don't want her to think I was trying to…to get anything out of it.

If she had wanted to stay and talk, well that would have been her prerogative. I wouldn't have said no. But I also wouldn't have tried to pull anything. I'm too much of a gentleman for that.

At least I hope I am.

My concentration on the texts is broken by Bonnie's little voice. "Daddy?"

I look up from my desk.

Bonnie on a chaise longue in the corner of my office by the window, her headphones pulled down around her neck and her iPad flat on her stomach. "What is it, love?"

"It's out of battery."

I sigh. "Then plug it in."

Bonnie rolls over on her side and reaches down for the iPad charger, her tongue rolling out of her mouth. "Can't…reach…"

I push myself out of my seat to go retrieve the tiny bit for her.

I should just tell her to get up and stop being lazy, but I don't have the will in me to fight that fight right now.

Of course, just as I'm crouched over, there's a knock on my office door. "Yes, what is it?"

"Your three o'clock is here for you, Mr. Wallington."

I snap to standing and check my watch. It's a quarter to three. Unsurprising, considering the clients I'm trying to snag to move their money into my wealth management firm.

"Ah, my three o'clock!"

I hand the charger to Bonnie and leave her in my wake as I go greet the older couple in the doorway. "Mr. and Mrs. Garrison, a pleasure."

I shake their hands.

Mr. Garrison is short and stocky with a mostly bald head while his wife looks to have spent a small fortune on cosmetic surgery and keeping her hair silvery light blonde. "So pleased you could make it today."

"Yes," Mrs. Garrison says without much flourish, stepping into my office. She scans the area for a place to sit, her eyes landing squarely on Bonnie. "You run a daycare here, Mr. Wallington?"

Bonnie is ensconced in whatever she's doing on her iPad and doesn't hear them through the headphones.

"I'm afraid –ha!" I step in front of Mrs. Garrison and direct her to a chair in front of my desk. "Since this is the weekend, and my daughter doesn't have school, I've brought her into the office with me…"

"No nanny, Wallington?" Mr. Garrison asks in a crunchy, smoker's voice.

"I…"

Bollocks. What kind of CEO of a wealth management company doesn't manage to get a nanny?

From the outside, it probably looks like I'm a broke bastard.

"You know, we've just moved a month ago, and Bonnie is still adjusting. I prefer to have her with me when I can. But if her presence makes you uncomfortable…" The words feel like sand in my mouth. "I can have her go to a conference room."

Mrs. Garrison huffs. "Seems like you should have taken care of that before we arrived."

I maintain a friendly smile, though I'd like to kick them both out of my office, wedge the toe of my loafer right into both of their arses .

They're the ones who arrived early to my office.

Sure, I had to solicit the meeting, as I've been having to do with all my new clients. But for them to walk into my domain and act so pompous and wretched?

They are the last kind of people I'd like for clients.

However, I can't afford to be picky right now.

"Leave her," Mr. Garrison says, plopping down into his chair. "Let's get this over with. I want to hear the pitch, and I want to be out in half an hour."

"That can be arranged," I say in a plain tone and sit across from them at my desk. Let's get this over with indeed.

§

"You'd have thought I was asking them to give me an organ," I complain, my eyes dancing across Central Park below.

"Well, to people like them, you are. Their money is their organ," Edwin says from his spot across the room.

I turn back to my friend and have to withhold a laugh.

The image of him sitting in a low-slung easy chair with a baby laying across his chest while we talk is not one I ever anticipated.

It's sweet, though, how his son is absolutely milk drunk, passed out on his chest. "I'm meeting with them again tomorrow. I'm already dreading it."

"We do what we need to for the deal, don't we?"

I shake my head. "You have money like that. I mean, we both do. Do we act like that?"

"I think we've learned the hard way what matters," Edwin says, giving baby Liam a pat on the back.

I hum. "That's true."

"Some people never take the time to really look at themselves in the contexts of their lives. They get comfortable being miserable. I know I was for a long time." Edwin shrugs one shoulder.

I shake my head. "Why am I doing this, Ed?"

"Doing what?"

"I don't know! All of it. Why did I come to New York? Why did I decide to open a whole new business after I royally cocked-up the other one? Why am I doing all this to Bonnie, and why am I–"

"Slow down, Theo. You're talking a mile a minute."

I sigh, letting my arms fall at my sides. "It's all so much."

"That's life."

"Yes, I know it's life, you needn't remind me."

Edwin's eyes widen. "All right, sorry."

I know I shouldn't bite the hand that feeds me.

Edwin's done so much for me the past couple of years. He's my one true friend in the world.

"I'm sorry."

From down the hall comes a peel of Bonnie's laughter.

My insides soften.

Sonia and Bonnie are in the kitchen baking a box of brownies together.

Admittedly, when I asked Edwin if I could come over after work spur of the moment, I was half hoping Abigail was in. No such luck.

"Don't be sorry," Edwin says. "It's been a hard go. But you did all this for Bonnie. That's why you do it."

I sit down heavily. "Yes, yes, you're right." I fold my hands in a prayer position and rub my palms together. "I can't be doing it all on my own like this."

"Things didn't pan out with Helene?"

"One date is hardly enough time to tell, but…" I sigh. "No, I don't think it will work out."

Not when my mind is preoccupied with a beautiful redhead who wants to fight the world on her own, tooth and nail. Who wants to remain wild and thinks that means pushing people away.

Edwin resituates in his seat. "And you don't want a nanny, why?"

"Because I can do it. I don't need a nanny."

"You're a single parent, Theo."

"So?"

"So! Most people have trouble doing it in a pair, much less doing it alone."

From the front hall, a voice cries out, "I'm home!"

Abigail.

I lock every muscle in my body to avoid a reaction from my face or worse…something lower.

"Abigail?" Bonnie cries out from the kitchen.

"Is my best friend here?" Abigail returns.

My heart soars so high it might as well be out of my body.

I can't hide hold back the smile on my face.

Edwin tears my attention back to the conversation with a chuckle. "It's good for Bonnie to be around someone other than you, Theo."

I whip my attention back to my friend.

"You're a great dad. I mean, it's obvious to everyone," he explains. "But she's an only child and you can't be her best friend forever."

"She goes to school, she has friends."

Edwin shakes his head. "It's different. I mean, look at the twins. They've got me and Sonia, they've got my kids, their partners, it's a whole network."

"If you're trying to be helpful, it's not working."

He's just reminding me of everything I've lost. My brother. My ex-wife. My fucking career and my family.

"You have us too! Bonnie has us too, that's what I'm trying to say. And it's great you bring her around, but my point is you have to let go a tiny little bit."

I stare at him.

I don't want to let go. She's my little girl. A part of me. All I have. Loves me despite all my faults.

"You hate me right now," my friend says through a chuckle, baby bouncing on his chest.

"I don't hate you. But I don't love you right now either." I cross my arms over my chest, returning my gaze out the window.

New York is supposed to be our opportunity. Bonnie's and mine. A new start. A new life. This is where it all begins. And I'm terrified.

"I'm not ready for a nanny. Maybe a babysitter, but a nanny is out of the question."

Again, Abigail's voice. Closer this time. "You need someone to watch Bonnie?"

Abigail is now standing in the archway of the living room, leaning on the doorframe. Her red hair is twisted into a fluffy knot on her head, and she's wearing a big T-shirt, bike shorts, and a pair of running shoes. She must have just come from the gym.

No, I know she came from the gym because I can smell the sweet, salty sweat on her body all the way from here.

You disgusting old man.

"Are you offering, Abs?" Edwin asks, looking over in her direction and lifting his free hand toward her.

Abigail walks over, bounces over, and takes her father's hand fondly.

Remember, Theo: best friend's daughter, best friend's daughter, she's my best friend's daughter .

"I mean, I've got more free time than I'd like." Her eyes cross to me, though they land a little short of eye contact. "I wouldn't mind being busy, if I'm honest."

Edwin tilts his head to the side and smiles at me.

"Ha! No," I say with a bit more force than I intend. "I mean…"

I swallow.

"What I mean is I really don't want to ask that of you, Abigail. I heard you during that conversation loud and clear, you have many other talents you'd rather take advantage of, and–"

"I only can if someone gives me the job to do it." Abigail shrugs, diverting her eyes shyly.

"She's great with kids, Dory." Edwin acts as her living breathing resume.

I don't need her to be great with kids. In fact, that's part of the problem.

Seeing how she interacts with Bonnie and Bonnie's fondness of Abigail only adds to the perverse feeling of want inside me. It's not just a woman who is good with children, but a woman who is good with my child, and whether or not Abigail likes me matters very little when she's so keen on the most important part of me.

"Really, it's not necessary, Abigail, I–"

"You have a meeting tomorrow, don't you?" Edwin announces. "Surely, Abigail can just take Bonnie for an hour or two. Help you out?"

I withhold a grimace. Why do I tell anyone anything when they just use it against me in the end?

I know he's trying to help, but he's only hurting me by pushing Abigail closer. Makes me have to deal with all these intrusive thoughts more frequently.

Hell, he's only hurting himself too.

"Free tomorrow?" Edwin asks Abigail.

"Yep," she answers.

Bollocks.

"Then it's settled. Abigail can take Bonnie and–"

Abigail laughs. It's light and airy, unusual given the way she normally sounds around me. "Dad, don't force me on him."

Bloody hell .

"Sometimes, we have to force people to take our help," Edwin says. "That's a lesson I learned far too late for my liking."

"And now you're making up for lost time, I suppose." I cross my leg over my knee and grab onto my shin.

Edwin grins. "Precisely."

I am silent for what feels like a long time but in reality is probably only a few seconds.

I'm trying to find the strength to look Abigail in the eye without breaking into smithereens.

I grip my shin a bit harder, hard enough to cause a pressure that's almost pain, and with a deep breath, push myself to look at her.

She's beautiful. Bollocks. Why is she so beautiful?

At the bar last night, when I saw her in that low cut dress sticking to her body, I felt I might not recover. Now, I've seen her this way, I know I'll never recover.

I grab my leg harder, let the pain deepen. "I'll pay you of course."

"You don't have to do that," Abigail replies.

It's impossible for me to tell what direction to go in when it comes to her. Might as well just try and not pretend like I understand the complicated animal of Abigial Lyons.

"Abigail, you know not to refuse money when it's on the table." Edwin chuckles.

She rolls her eyes. " Dad …"

"I'm just saying, he's offering. Let him pay you, Abigail."

She sighs, but a smile plays upon her lips. "Fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She wriggles free of her father's hand and backs out of the room. "I have to go shower. Text me the details, ‘kay?"

Abigail disappears before I can respond.

I'm ready to come up with an excuse for why I might have Abigail's number even though the truth is innocent and thoughtful, a man looking after his friend's daughter.

But Edwin speaks first, careful as he shifts his hips to the side so as not to disturb Liam. He fishes his phone out of his back pocket. "I'll send you her contact information."

"Ah. Brilliant," I reply, thankful I don't have to show my cards.

In reality, Edwin probably wouldn't think anything of it. Because he trusts me. I'm his friend, his confidante.

Friends and confidantes aren't threats. They know the boundaries, know what is too far.

Thinking of Abigail the way I do is absolutely too far.

And every day, it's getting worse.