Page 176 of Perfect Pitch

I reach over and grab her hand and press it against the barely-there bump. “He or she wouldn’t cooperate at my ultrasound. I’ll have another in a few more weeks.”

“What’s your intuition saying?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Austyn.” Fallon’s voice is filled with exasperation.

“On so many levels, I’m terrified, Fal. I’m afraid I can’t be the kind of mother Mama was—able to balance career and motherhood. And every second I’m not with people I trust, I’m afraid for her.”

“So, the Kensington tradition will live on.” A look of abject horror crosses her face. “For God’s sake, do not have your child here.”

“Why the hell not?” I snap.

“Seven Virtues Kensington? Do you want the kid struck down by lightning?”

We both laugh. Fallon leans over and presses a kiss to my stomach before whispering, “Hello, sweet bug. I’m your Aunt Fallon. I love you already.”

Her fingers graze my skin when she lifts her head. With that simple gesture borne of kindness, tears begin to flow hard and fast. I swipe at them even as I manage a watery, “Do you reckon this little one will appreciate how much her mama loves her to make up for her daddy not being there?”

Fallon curls me close before replying, “Of course she will.”

“Fallon?”

“Yes?”

“Does it make me weak to wish he loved me?”

Tears begin to fall hot and fast.

“No. It makes you human.”

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

There are so many songs about lost love. Do people really FUBAR that much?

—@PRyanPOfficial

You’re one to ask?

—@CuTEandRich3

“Hey, Beats. It’s me. Would you call me back? I really need to talk with you,” I plead for the umpteenth time in weeks. Austyn’s been all over the news, so I know she’s not in New York. I’ll take five minutes, that’s all. Hell, sixty seconds. I just need to hear her voice. I want to tell her I love her. And apologize—Christ, do I ever need to apologize. I meet Kane’s gaze over the kitchen table. He drops his eyes to the file in front of him where he’s been studying patterns of potential threats against our principles. He murmurs, “Still nothing?”

“She hasn’t returned a single call.” I shove my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know what...” Just then my phone rings. I snatch it up without checking the caller ID. I breathe, “Austyn.”

My uncle snorts derisively. “In your fondest dreams, boy.”

My voice dulls. “Oh. Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

But I snap to attention when his voice turns glacial. “I’m calling to ask you, politely, to stop calling Kensington. You’re distracting her. If we can’t handle this informally, I’ll make a formal request through your boss.”

“Charlie...”

“You had your chance to hurt her. Now the only thing the mention of your name does is haunt her.”

“What the fu—‍” But before I can get the word out, he disconnects the call.

---