“Would it be so awful?” he said to himself. Did he say what I thought he did? I had to have misheard. “What do you have for me?”
“The girl. Cricket.”
“I was beginning to think you forgot about her.”
“She’s like a shadow. Pretty much was either at the food truck or the shelter. Should’ve known she wouldn’t come and go out of the front door.”
There were lots of reasons a woman might not want to be seen at the shelter. That didn’t necessarily mean she was up to no good. But it might.
“Where’d she go?”
“She slipped out down the alley behind the shelter most nights around one. Meets a guy in Brownsville, they exchange something, and then I lose her every damn time. It was around four this morning when she snuck back in.”
“She look messed up?”
“Not from what I could see, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. If she meets up with that dude again tonight, I’ll follow him.”
“Think he’s a drug dealer?” I asked. From what little I’d heard, it sounded pretty cut and dry.
The guy shrugged. “Seems that way, but I’ve learned the hard way about jumping to conclusions.”
“Thought you had too,” Patrick said, giving me a pointed look.
I shrugged. When my family did it about me it was different than when I did it to other people.
The man slapped his thighs and stood. “That’s it. I’ll be in touch when I have something else.”
“Rude much?” I asked the second he was out the door.
“What have I done now?” He ripped off a bite of chicken with his teeth.
“Let me have some of that.”
“No. I’m rude, remember?”
“Were you embarrassed to introduce me?” I plucked a piece of the meat from his plate.
“This from the person who thinks the idea of being married to me is the end of the world.” He snatched an olive off of my salad.
“Hey. I had just the amount I wanted.” He made a show of dropping it into his mouth. “I wonder why no one would want to be in a relationship with you.”
“Who bailed you out today when you didn’t have anybody else to keep Blake? That’s shitty husband material, right?”
“Why are you so sensitive about this? Have you run out of women in this city?” I pushed the salad away from me. Jealousy streaked through me so hot and fast I didn’t know what to do with it. “I’m sorry you had to bail me out.”
I gathered Blake’s things.
“But not for insinuating I’m a womanizing prick who would be an even worse father?”
Is it possible to keep my temper in check around this man? And why did it bother me I’d hurt his feelings?
“Why do you care?” My anger won out because I knew what to do with that.
“I don’t,” he said stiffly. “Thanks for the education. Now I’m certain I don’t want to be saddled with a wife or kids.”
Especially if they’re like us. My eyes stung. No, damn it. Patrick Whitley would not get my tears.
“Come on, baby.” I picked Blake up out of the playpen. “Mommy loves you so much,” I whispered into his hair.
His tiny arms hugged me back. I had my son and he was all I needed.
“Whatever you did to piss off your father, you better fix it,” he said when I’d nearly made it out the door. “Because you’re running out of people who give a shit.”
Chapter Sixteen
Patrick
“Hi, baby. I’ve been calling you.”
I shuddered as Monica ran her nails across my shoulders.
“Been busy,” I said, tossing back the remaining whiskey in my glass.
“Not too busy to come out tonight,” she pouted.
“Nope. Guess I wasn’t.” I channeled my inner-Marlow to find the asshole down deep. Wait. No. I wasn’t thinking about Wicked. Not at all.
“What’s the matter, baby? You’ve missed me, haven’t you?”
I fixed a pleasant smile on my face. “We had a nice time the few we went out, but no, I don’t miss you. No, I don’t want to go back to your place. And no, I don’t want you to come back to mine. You’re wasting your efforts on me.”
White wine hit my face with a splat. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
“You made me think I was special. No one ever gets a second date, let alone a third. You used me.”
“I hardly call thousand dollar bottles of champagne using,” I said as I dried my face with a napkin. I stood and laid some cash on the bar.
She clung to my jacket as I maneuvered through the bar. “You’re going to regret this.”
I shrugged her off. “I already do.”
I’d come to the bar for some peace . . . or whatever I might get in a bar. I hadn’t bothered to call Andrew or Mr. Dixon. What was the point? They were happily shackled. But me? The lone wolf?
It had never bothered me to drink in a bar alone. Now? I couldn’t stand it. And I wasn’t desperate enough to ever have anything to do with Monica again.
Fuck my life. Even if I wanted to turn it around.
Thsmks s lit
My fingers fumbled over the screen as I typed with one hand and held a whiskey bottle with the other.
Are you drunk?
I dint kmpw.
The phone vibrated in my hand.
“Hello, Wicked,” I slurred.
“Where are you?” she barked.
I looked around lazily. “My living room.”
“Why are you calling me?” she sighed.
“Why did you call me?”
“I didn’t.”
“Last fight.”
“Last fight? I don’t understand.”
“Might,” I insisted. Why didn’t she get it?
“What?”
“Never mind.” I slung back more whiskey. “I can’t go to my room.”
“Patrick, you aren’t making any sense,” she said sternly.
“Give Blake a kiss for me.”
I hung up the phone and dropped it on my chest. She didn’t make sense either.
Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
“Go away,” I shouted, covering my ears.
No such luck.
I staggered from the chair I’d fallen asleep in, tripped over the whiskey bottle lying on the floor, and stumbled to the front door.
“Whatever you’ve got, I don’t want,” I said as I threw
