Page 125 of Daddy P.I. 3.0

I remember my little wonder, confronting Miranda and her fucking scalpel with a diaper bag. She was so calm. Socompletely confident in her position. I channel a fraction of that confidence and stare Drew down.

He nods, steps out of my way, and continues down the hall to the small conference room.

Fucker.

I sink into one of the folding chairs set around the tables where we eat on weekends. The room is cool and quiet. The hoods are pulled down on the buffet serving stations. The round tables lack their usual tablecloths. There’s a faint smell of fried onions.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I take out my phone. One of the privileges of lifetime membership, I’m reminded, being able to have a phone in the club. I have a pile of messages that I prioritize quickly. Emmy wishing me luck and telling me she loves me. I send back an “ILY2.” Max messaging about a new job upgrading the security systems at a small chain of private casinos upstate. I send him back a quick thumbs up. Mac saying that he’s come for moral support and is waiting for me in the Trattoria with our angelic baby.

Grateful to leave this cheerless space, I hasten to the Trattoria. Mac’s sitting at a table in the conservatory, looking out at the hay bale maze where we had our Doms v subs paintball war. God, that seems like a long time ago now. The angelic baby is in her car set on the table, alert but quiet, looking around with her hazy blue eyes.

I sink down next to Mac. “Thanks for coming.”

“How’s it going?”

I shake my head. “Chess punted me and Theo out while Drew addresses the committee. No one’s ever been invited to address the committee on the subject of their membership before. Not in my memory. Franco said it was because I’d ‘railroaded’ Sante out of the club?—”

Mac claps me on the shoulder. “Hindsight’s twenty-twenty. You had no way of knowing then what you’d need to be doing now. Don’t beat yourself up. Order something without caffeine and try to relax. You’ve done good here, son, whatever happens.”

I nod and when the waitress circulates among the small number of tables that are occupied at this time on a cold winter’s morning, I order Earl Grey tea. Emily would probably be happier if I ordered that curry-tasting crap but that’s one taste bud too far today.

Mac rocks Livvy’s carrier gently, making the line of toys dangling from the handle swing. Livvy bats at them with her little fists.

“You sure she’s yours?” Mac asks.

I choke on my tea. “Are you serious?”

He grins. “I don’t think she’s yours. Look at her. She’s just looking around, taking it all in. She’s barely made a peep all morning. You were never this quiet. Not even during maneuvers on the damn sub. Well, I take that back. She’s farted a couple of times. Maybe she is yours.”

I punch his arm. “Asshole.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Mac grins off into the distance. “She is a very easy baby, though. I think you and Emmy got lucky.”

“I know we did. This schedule Emmy’s got her on isn’t hurting, either. I can’t believe she’s sleeping through the night already.”

“Schedule’s good, no question. But if she’d been born on her due date and there hadn’t been any complications, she’d be coming up on eight weeks. Plenty of babies sleep through at eight weeks.”

“Plenty don’t,” I say, with the authority of having read two whole baby books. “Thanks again for having my back yesterday.”

“Anytime, son. You think that’s the end of it?”

I nod. “Theo checked with the airlines. She bought a ticket for a flight back to London tomorrow. The warrant won’t issue before her flight but Theo’s going to make sure she gets it so she knows that if she tries to fly into the U.S., or at least New York, she’ll be arrested.”

“Powerful deterrent,” Mac says.

“I don’t think she’ll risk it.” I shrug. “But I wouldn’t have ever thought she’d try to stab Emily, either, so I clearly don’t understand her as well as I thought I did. I’m not going to relax any of my security measures.”

“I wouldn’t suggest that you do, although you can tell Maxie to back off about sticking a chip in my neck. That’s not gonna happen.”

I shake my head at him. I’ll keep working on him. I’m chipped now. Emily’s chipped. Bren’s got one in a piercing she doesn’t take out. He’ll cave eventually.

The clack of heels approaching our table has Mac and me looking up. Maude walks toward us, her face expressionless.

That’s bad. I stand and offer her my chair, grabbing another from an empty table and sitting across from her.

“Is the meeting over?” I ask.

She nods and sits down between us, crossing her legs and smoothing down her skirt. “There are times to push and times to retreat.”

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