Page 76 of Big Daddy

As soon as she gets into the car, I follow her. I should just be happy knowing she’s going to therapy, that some element of life is still business as usual. But because she still hasn’t texted me and she’s been giving me the cold fucking shoulder for a week, I follow her.

But she just goes home, to our home. There is nothing salacious or deviant about anything she’s doing, therefore, I’m relieved.

Yet I have no more answers than I did this morning, leading me to believe the same tired reason as to why she’s suddenly distant.

She doesn’t want me.

I can’t give up on us. She made me see that I needed to fix my relationship with my daughter, she made me see that love isso much different than expected when it’s real. She’s given me hope, a future, a reason to fucking plan.

Back at the office, I call Kennedy and Pen into a meeting, telling them that Winnie Collins will be taking the new office. It will be her graphic design and brand management headquarters. When asked why a business like that goes with a law firm, I told them she’d be the liaison to retaining clients under a branch of new services, since the majority of our clients are smart women going through awful divorces with wealthy and often reputable men. Those women typically turn around and start a business, the entryway to their new lives. If we had someone in office on staff that could ease them into that as well as keeping them on our roster, that’s more money for everyone.

Pen floated that we should take a vote on it, while Kennedy simply said, “I like her a lot. I think it’s a good idea.”

I told Kennedy just what I wanted the office to look like, told her to use her company credit card, and said it needed to be ready in a day.

I will continue to give Winnie everything, even when she’s going through whatever it is she’s going through. I will love her through whatever storm this is, and provide her with a location for her business, a desk, clients, everything she needs.

I refuse to believe this is the beginning of our end.

Silent treatment or not.

chapter twenty-six

winnie

Last night wasone of the first nights I didn’t have to pretend to be busy or asleep when Quincey came home. I actually was asleep. Holding this secret for Brielle has been like trying to hang onto a knife on fire. I want to let it go, I want to be free of it, but I want to prove to her that I’m still and always going to be her best friend. Her safe space.

But I didn’t think it through. Not fully.

Because being her safe space means corrupting and colluding my own safe space, to the detriment of what is now my most important relationship.

I fucked up, but Brielle has lunch planned tomorrow, and at that meal she, Aug and Lance are going to announce their news to us. After that, this horrible week can be behind us. And I learned a very important lesson. One that Brielle tried to tell me months ago. We can never have the same relationship, but we can have something better.

Maybe me hearing the pregnancy news along with Quincey was the better option. No, not maybe. Itwasthe better option, but I don’t fault her for being starved for a scrap of our formerrelationship. Secret swapping was what we did. We both just got caught up in the moment, clinging to some fuzzy warmth of familiarity amidst all the change.

I blame myself for not having the confidence in myself as a friend and woman to say no.

After lunch tomorrow, things will be back to absolute perfection. At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I turn off the lamp and close my eyes, not able to wait up for him even if things weren’t awkward. This week of stress has taken it out of me. I am exhausted.

Tomorrow things will go back to normal.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it ends today,” Big Daddy says, yanking the covers off my body as he sets a mug of steaming coffee down next to me. Little does he know. He crouches next to the side of the bed as I sit up and face him. He cups my cheek. “Whatever this is, I will get us through it. Because I love you.” He puts the mug between my hands, and disappears into the master closet, shoving hangers around. A moment later he comes back with an outfit—not bad, actually, and a pair of pumps. “Now get dressed. We’re going into the office together.”

I sip the coffee and blink up at him, my mind a mess. Brielle is announcing her pregnancy today, and today is the last day of this awkward shittiness that I myself am responsible for wedging between us. Until then, though, I’m keeping the promise. This week can’t be in vain.

“I don’t work for you anymore. What business do I have down at Parker & Pen?” I get to my feet and pull my nightgown off after replacing the coffee on the side table. Quincey’s eyes rake over my nude body as I tug the dress over my head, holding my hair over my shoulder as I turn to give him my back. His fingers graze my flesh, causing my cunt to clench and my belly to tighten. A week without his hands, tongue, mouth and cock has been horrendous. I might come just from him zipping this stupid fucking dress at this point.

“I’ll answer that when we get there.” He crouches, smoothing the tip of his thumb along the arch of my foot as he puts the heel on for me. A shiver wracks my spine at the private grumble bouncing around in his chest. I bet he’s thinking about the very same thing I am. The time I fucked his cock with my bare feet and teased him verbally the entire time, telling him just how my clients liked it, how I made them moan and writhe. It was so fucking hot. And now, as he slips the other heel onto my bare foot, I have to turn off the memory in my mind to get through the day. Hot and bothered around Quincey while trying not to break my vow of secrecy to his daughter? Not a great position to be in.

“I’ll take my car to the office. I have some errands to run later.”

Quincey, who had already crossed the room to grab my sweater and purse, freezes, his hand looped through the Italian leather strap of my shoulder bag. “You won’t go with me?”

Awkwardly, I laugh. “I just think it’s best we drive separately since I have errands after lunch, that’s all.” Lies. I won’t want two cars after Big Daddy learns the good news, but until then, Ineed my own car. The backseat of a dark town car is not the place to test my ability to abstain from this man. It’s getting really fucking hard.

My purse and sweater bounce off the mattress onto the floor as he throws them, stomping around the bed to stand before me, chest heaving. With his hands balled into fists at his sides, he hovers over me, masculine and powerful, anger radiating off him in waves. “What is happening, Winnie? One day you love me and the next you can’t stand to be in the car with me. Tell me now. Tell me right fucking now what is going on!” he shouts.

Even his shouting is somewhat sexy, though the heat of his words singes my soul. I stare into his eyes, my chin wobbly and my voice hoarse when I say, “I can’t tell you.”

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