“So, what’s going on here?” He asks, gesturing to the dolls.
She starts to fill him in on the ongoing drama between all of her dolls. She has such an imagination. I sit on the couch and watch them get to know one another. They’re getting along so well. I’m happy, but I’m also worried. Should I be letting this happen? It’s my job to protect her, but no parenting book has prepared me for this. I know I need to keep her away from the press and the cameras, but what about Riker? He’s so sweet, but what do I really know about him? Do I want her new father-figure to be someone I met in a courtroom?
I check my phone as they play.
It’s time to go. I reach out and tap his shoulder.
“It’s time to go,” I whisper, not wanting it to be true.
He nods and smiles at Nia. “It was nice meeting you, Nia,” he says.
“I liked meeting you too, Riker!” She exclaims. I know she means it.
Riker gets up and steps aside to give me a moment with my daughter.
I kneel back down in front of her and pull her into another hug.
“I have to leave again, baby. I’ll miss you.” I want to cry as I say the words.
She hugs me back. “It’s okay, mommy. I’ll miss you too.”
She’s wise beyond her years. I breathe out a sigh of relief as I feel her acceptance for me to go and do whatever it is I’m doing with Riker.
I give her a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Nia. Be good.”
“I will, Mommy. I love you too.”
I force myself to pull out of the hug. Real-life beckons. Our babysitter reappears and takes my place on the floor with Nia. It’s hard to leave my daughter, but I have to take this opportunity. I blow her another kiss, and she happily waves at me as I walk away with Riker.
17 Jane
The last thing I want is a press conference. I’ve done more than my share as an attorney, but they’re usually brief and impersonal. Facts only, with a bit of a slant to gain sympathy for my client, but they’re never about me. Not me personally.
And now this. Riker says it will be fun and exciting, but I see it as a chore. He’s the one who will look better afterward. The bad boy settling down, taking responsibility. Right. But for me, anyone with half a brain will wonder what a girl like me is doing with a guy like him.
And whirlwind romance? With a man infamous for his sexual exploits and love ‘em and leave ‘em attitude? I have a young daughter. What kind of a mother am I?
And Terry’s all for it, of course.
“It will make everyone look good,” she says. “The firm, Riker, and you. Press exposure is the icing on the cake if you handle it right.”
“And what, exactly, do you consider ‘right’ in this case?”
“Make it about him, not you. Don’t refer to his past behavior, just play up the fact that he’s family-oriented and waiting for the right woman to settle down with. And you knew the minute you met him you’d found your man. You can do this.”
I groan inwardly.
“And remember, it will all blow over soon. People will forget, and you’ll go back to your life. You win? You’re a partner.”
Partner. Right.
The exuberant crowd milling around the room is giving me claustrophobia, and I’m not even out there yet. I’m in a small room to the side, peering out through a gap in the heavy curtains. We’re scheduled to start in fifteen minutes, and I’m having doubts. Riker isn’t even here yet. Where the hell is he?
I kick off my strappy sandals and rub an ankle with the toes of my other foot. I keep the narrow slit as small as possible as I take everything in.
An enormous fountain is the room’s centerpiece, and waiters balance small trays loaded with beverages and pastries. Someone is laying out food on silver trays surrounded by silver pitchers, glasses, cups, and silver utensils. Glamorous. Expensive. Of course. Who arranged all this? Riker? Or Terry?
I sigh. Nia keeps popping into my mind, and all I want to do right now is hug her, play with her, love her. Go home and get under the covers with her and take a long nap. And here I am at this ridiculous press conference—
“Five minutes.” I whirl around, but I don’t see anyone. Where did that voice come from?
Where. Is. Riker?
I peek out the curtains again and scan the crowd. It’s doubled, if that’s even possible. Cameras are set up in front of the long table where we’ll sit. A man in a tux is adjusting microphones, and a waiter places water glasses at each seat.
“Hey. Let me in.” The curtain opens. Riker.
I jump back and scurry to the dark corner of the room.
“Shut that damned curtain, will you?” I hiss.
“Sorry! Jesus, Jane. I was just talking with some people—”
“You’re not supposed to be out there!”
“Oh, so what. Relax. What’s the big deal?” He presses tightly against my back and wraps his arms around my shoulders. He’s so warm against my cold, clammy skin, and I lean into him. He runs his big hands up my stomach and over my breasts.
“We’re supposed to look like we’re madly in love, you know. So, let’s play the part, shall we?” He nuzzles his lips on my neck, and I melt as his hands go lower.
“Don’t. I won’t be able to—.”
“One minute and you’re on!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He pulls his arms away and gently turns me around. “Are you okay?”
I clear my throat. “Sure. Let’s go.” I stare in his beautiful eyes and will myself into some semblance of almost-wedded bliss. A woman in love.
“Fifteen seconds!”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Riker grabs my hand and leads me back to the curtain. I
