Page 64 of Rumor Has It

The second emotional shove derails any processing I’m doing. I’m exhausted and his confession has me taking on the weight of his depression. I’m also grieving. Not for Kylie, per se, but for what Aria and Isaiah lost on top of whatever dreams I lost with him.

The number of intrusive questions I have are too many to count. Thankfully, Isaiah continues to explain why he’s here without me prying.

“Yesterday when Vespa called to say Aria’s nurse had fractured her elbow, I wasn’t ready to give up on us. I realized why today. I’m tired of being alone. I want to take Monty’s advice. To believe I deserve better than the cards life dealt. And, no matter how great a job I thought I was doing paying for a qualified nurse, if Aria is lonely for a family then I haven’t done right by her at all.” He lays his guilt at my feet.

“What about Kylie’s family? Wouldn’t they want her?”

His jaw clenches. “Kylie wouldn’t want that.”

I open my mouth and clamp it shut before asking anything else insensitive.

“I don’t know who Kylie was involved with.” Shamefaced, Isaiah releases my hand and answers me, anyway. “Until I do, it’s better that Gatlin and everyone else at Kingsbrier who knows about her thinks that Aria’s my daughter.”

“Trusting me with Aria’s identity means more than you know, Isaiah. But a baby changes everything. We lead lives that are polar opposite. I haven’t held back. Everything you’ve learned about me is the real me. I’m a cook. This is my life.” I spread my arms. “Whether or not she’s your daughter doesn’t make a difference. In my wildest dreams, the man I thought I was dating wasn’t keeping me in the dark about a child. I need to wrap my head around how I feel.”

“Cass,” he pleads.

Aria fusses, having reached her limit at remaining patient and adorable. She’s likely wet and hungry. Isaiah gets up to search for her diaper bag, but it’s not in the office. It’s obvious he has limited experience with babies. He isn’t frustrated as much as frazzled.

“Listen, I’m glad you want a family for Aria,” I say. “But things can’t go back to the way they were. Whatever I felt before, I also thought by now we’d have said goodbye. It hurt when you bolted out of here because I made the mistake of believing I was your priority during those last few hours we had together. I was under the impression the calls you took were about the tour. But you were checking on the baby, weren’t you?”

Isaiah licks his lips and nods.

He’s found the pacifier attached to the infant carrier. A bug-eyed Aria puffs away. Emeran did the same thing, trying to wretch milk from the nipple when she was ready to eat. Although Aria seems fascinated with our drama.

Drama I have no need for because Isaiah Roomer has tour dates scheduled and Cassidy Cavanaugh isn’t leaving Kingsbrier.

“From what I gather, you’re a paying guest at the B&B now. I have a job to do. I won’t share my bed with you.”

“When you’re off in the afternoon, can I see you? Spend time with you?” His concern overflows.

“I live down the hall. You’ll see me.”

“That’s not what I mean, Cass.”

“I know. But you said yourself you can’t talk rationally when you’re dealing with irrational emotions.”

?????

“He told you everything,” Vespa snaps as I enter the kitchen.

She’s draped her suit jacket over the back of a chair and is sporting a short-sleeved silk blouse, which makes me annoyed because it’s New Year’s Day. For heaven’s sake, why isn’t she dressed in train-wreck chic like everyone else on God’s green earth? Her laptop and multiple cell phones are arranged on the table, along with a dark chocolate protein bar. The kitchen’s become her command station.

Yeah, that won’t last. This is my domain.

Retaliation isn’t my style, but between my hangover and Isaiah’s confession, I’m battered and bruised. With my luck, Vespa’s an early riser. If I have to put up with her every morning for the next two months, I can see whipping up a specialty batch of chocolate chip banana muffins, slipping super-choco-lax into hers, and serving it with a smile.

In no mood to reply, I search for my fuckoffee mug, acting clueless.

“I warned him not to tell you he wasn’t Aria’s father. If he was blabbing, I asked him to keep that part to himself. Do you have any idea how damaging this is? To Kylie’s memory? To Isaiah’s reputation? In the best of circumstances, an illegitimate child can sink his career. Isaiah knows that and still he told you,” Vespa huffs, incredulous. “I suppose I’m grateful he stopped before he admitted every sordid detail to Gatlin and Bellamy. Lot of good it did me.”

Still pretending she’s not there, I retrieve the creamer out of the fridge. I pour a cup of coffee and add a dash of cream and take a sip. Then, despite being aware I’m on shaky ground if Isaiah’s assistant knows him so well, I lean against the countertop, sighing blissfully as the coffee hits my palette.

“You know, I’m not to blame that my cousin and his wife are supporting your boss,” I say after having a few sips. “You’re also awfully presumptuous that Isaiah had any intention of spilling the beans to me. Had he not, you would’ve broken your exceptional code of ethics.” I replace the carton on the refrigerator shelf and swirl the half-full cup. “I stand by what I said. You really are a cunt. This is a big house. The next time I walk in here, you’d better be the fuck out of my kitchen.”

I turn on my heel to go back to my room.

Halfway up the staircase, I get woozy. My head is throbbing and my hands tremble. Coffee spills over the rim. So that I don’t pass out and drop the entire mug on the runner, I turn around and sit my ass on a stair.

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