Page 125 of Play Book

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll talk to him when I get back to L.A. We’ll either figure it out or we won’t, but this kitchen won’t clean itself.”

“Why can’t we just call a service?” she whispers, making a face.

“I think the point of this exercise is that it’s cathartic for Stevie.”

“Then she should clean the fridge.” Chey dangles a long-dead bag of fruit. “Okay, that’s it for me. I’m out.”

“Same.”

We trash it and then head upstairs to see what everyone else is doing.

I don’t get back to my hotel until after ten, and I spy Canyon’s tie in the corner of the living room, right where he’d tossed it last night before he’d taken me to bed and fucked my ass. I’m a little sore today, but it was worth it.

I pick up the tie and hold it to my nose. I can still smell the faint scent of his aftershave, and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply.

It’s been a long, mostly wonderful day, but I’m disappointed that I haven’t heard from him.

I’ve just gotten into bed when my phone rings and I see his name on the screen.

About time.

“Hey.” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

“Hey.” He sounds tired, and I immediately feel a twinge of guilt.

“How’d it go?”

“It’s been a long-ass day. She’s a mess. I finally got her to sleep a little while ago. She’s been crying on and off all day.”

“Did Marjorie really hit her?”

“She says so. There’s no bruise or anything, but Marjorie ghosted me, so I’m pretty sure Ally’s telling the truth.”

“There wouldn’t necessarily be a bruise from getting slapped. I mean, she would have had to really hit her hard.”

“Exactly. Which means there’s no proof, so I can’t call the cops or anything. I do have a call in to the agency I used to hire her, though. They’re going to hear about it.”

“Of course.”

“Meanwhile, we’re going to see our therapist tomorrow, and Colleen’s going to help out this week.”

“You’re not going back to the team?” I ask in surprise.

“I don’t know. Ally’s…fragile. It’s hard to explain. Under all the piss and vinegar, she not only misses her mom, she’s also mad at her. Apparently, there was a string of boyfriends, and Ally was home alone a lot. Now she feels like I’m just going to hire a bunch of nannies to watch her, so I don’t have to. She doesn’t believe I want her here.”

“Oh, Canyon. I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s hard.”

“Seeing her cry is hard. Hearing her cry for her mom is even harder.”

Yup.

Here comes the guilt.

“She needs you,” I say quietly.

“She does.”

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