Page 45 of Well Played

“We were not a mistake,” I say, remembering the good times. “We had a good marriage. You might have fallen out of love with me, and I’m glad you’re happy now. But it’s not fair to either of us to pretend we didn’t have good years.”

“We weren’t all bad,” she acknowledges. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you are not Charlotte’s biological father.”

“And there is no reason to bring Willow into this. She is a good teacher … you’ve seen her with her class. Outside of that, she’s sweet and kind and I haven’t introduced Charlotte into our relationship. I wouldn’t, not without talking to you about it.”

“Who you sleep with is none of my business, and since you won’t be seeing Charlotte anymore, you and Willow can move in together and start your own happy family.”

“Charlotte is my daughter.”

“You have no way of providing for your daughter. You were fired from your last coaching job, and since then, nothing. I’d at least respect you if you were collecting garbage. How do you spend your time? What sort of role model are you when you don’t have a job, have no prospects for a job, and no way of financially providing for the daughter you claim to love?”

Lloyd is days away from making the formal announcement about the Southern Mavericks. I can’t tell my lawyer about the consulting fees deposited by McMillan Enterprises, and I can’t tell Sloan a damn thing. I need to de-escalate and buy time.

“Hate me for not being the man you loved,” I say, holding up my hands. “But I am begging you, don’t bring Willow into this,and don’t punish Charlotte. You know she loves me. You know every time you want her to call someone elsedaddyshe ends up crying in her teacher’s office at lunchtime.”

“Her teacher … your lover.”

“And I promise Willow doesn’t talk to me about Charlotte the student. When she invited both of us to her office, I heard it there first, just like you.”

“How can I trust you?”

“When did I give you any reason not to trust me? I admit, you leaving, threw me for a loop. When you handed me the DNA results, it destroyed me. I lost focus on my career and lost a job with the Flying Foxes because of it.”

“Seems I did you a favor since the Foxes are defunct.” Sloan shakes her head. “Well, good luck with the rest of your life, but it will not be with my daughter.”

“She's my daughter, too.”

“Only, she isn't. And if you keep this up, I won’t be the only one giving an interview. How do you think the public will respond when they hear from a real father who you’re trying to keep from his daughter.”

“That’s bullshit. You have Charlotte four nights each week. And I’m not denying his role in her life. The more people Charlotte knows love her unconditionally, the stronger she’ll be to face down the nasty things people say.”

“It is really simple, Bronx. You’ve made me look like a fool with your little fling. You can have your career. You can have your little teacher looking up at you with her doe eyes, but you cannot have my daughter, too. I will always feel as if you and Miss Caton are undermining me.

“Then we'll change schools,” I say. “It will get Charlotte away from the bullies. I’ll pay. I’ll even pay for therapy to help her and us all work through the situation. I will do whatever it takes. I can't lose Charlotte, and I don't want to lose Willow.”

“Why did you never want to fight for me?” Sloan asks, catching me off guard.

“I don’t know. You were done with me and I thought fighting would only make things worse for Charlotte. Everything I’ve done is for our daughter.”

“Well, that's just too bad because I'm signing the contract and giving my story. The public deserves to know the truth.” Sloan nods to her lawyer who hands me a draft copyBetrayed By Bronx, a wife’s tale of heartbreak, strength, and moving on. What a bullshit title. She cheated on me. She left me.

“More than Charlotte deserves to have two fathers who love her?”

Sloan doesn’t answer.

Lloyd: Prepare for battle. Launch is in three days.

Me: We need to talk. Potential PR crisis kind of talk.

Me to Willow: We need to talk.

LAWYERS AT 50 PACES

Willow

Three hoursafter Bronx told me about his ex-wife’s ultimatum, I meet him at McMillan Tower, one of the largest buildings in the city.

“Miss Caton, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” A man I recognize from the papers as Lloyd McMillan, greets me as if I’m an old friend. “Thank you for agreeing to come here while we discuss your part in the solution.”

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