Page 6 of One Baddie for Three Daddies

I can’t argue with that. Her presentation was top-notch; she always had an eye for detail and creativity that set her apart.

"Yeah. She’s good at what she does," I admit reluctantly.

Alex claps a hand on my shoulder. "We’ll figure it out, Liam. We always do."

His confidence is infectious, but there's still a part of me that's wary—wary of opening old wounds and getting too close again.

As Alex and I leave and head to our next meeting, my thoughts are a storm.

"Hey, you sure you’re, okay?" Alex asks, his voice pulling me back to the present, again.

"Yeah," I snap, a bit too harshly, sighing as I rub my hand down my face

He nods, his face understanding but wary. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m not fucked up about it either.”

We cross into the lobby, our footsteps echoing in the spacious hall. My mind replays that morning on the beach again. How she smiled at me like nothing could ever go wrong.

I try to shake off the memories, but they cling like shadows. Every step closer to our meeting room is heavier with unanswered questions and unresolved feelings.

I force the thoughts out of my head. I can't start thinking about her like this. Fuck, not in that way again.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, running a hand through my hair.

Alex shoots me a look.

How can I explain that seeing her again has ripped open wounds I thought had long since healed? That part of me wants to shake her, demand answers, while another part wants to...

No. I shut that thought down hard. I can't go there. Won't go there.

As we approach the conference room, I steel myself. I've dealt with cutthroat competitors and impossible clients. I can handle working with Bianca.

But trust her? Never again. She burned that bridge when she disappeared.

4

JAMES

Iswirl the whiskey in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the dim light. The bar is half-full, a murmur of conversations and clinking glasses filling the air. It’s been a long ass day, and the whiskey is doing its job of dulling the edges.

My eyes drift up, scanning the room without much interest. A moment later, I freeze.

Across the room, standing near the entrance, is Bianca. The room seems to shrink, everything narrowing down to just her. Her braids cascade over her shoulders, and she’s laughing at something someone said. It's been six years since I saw her, since I saw any of them.

The four of us were inseparable back then. Our relationship with Bianca was mostly fun and games at first. But as time went on, it got deeper than that.

We didn’t just have fun with her; we fell for her—hard. She had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room when she looked at you with those big brown eyes of hers. We all developed real feelings for her over that school year.

After she left, being around Liam and Alex became unbearable. They were constant reminders of her—her laugh, her touch, the way she made everything feel alive.

Eventually, I had to make a choice. Staying close to them meant living in the shadow of what we lost. So, I distanced myself, buried myself in work, focusing on climbing the real estate ladder alone. Liam and Alex went on to build their company without me, while I carved out my own path.

I haven’t heard from either of them since then. It was easier that way—no reminders, no rehashed pain. Out of sight, out of mind. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

I set my empty glass down, the ice clinking softly. My feet move before my brain catches up, carrying me across the bar toward her. Each step seems like a lifetime. Bianca’s laugh filters through the noise, a sound that used to be like coming home.

She turns just as I approach, her eyes widening in surprise. “James?”

“Hey, Bia,” I say, leaning against the bar next to her. “It's been a long time.”

---