Page 38 of The Secret

“Oh my God! Stop!” Penn hissed, picking up Bell’s bottle.

I frowned. “What?”

“You look like a Taylor Swift song.”

“What?”

“You’re in deep shit.”

I groaned. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“How long until she leaves and you grow your balls back?”

“Thirteen weeks and three days.” I was both counting down the days until she was leaving and counting down the days I had left with her, living with me, seeping into my life and under my skin.

Penn’s fork stopped in mid-air.

“Oh fuuuck. Heads up at six o’clock,” he mumbled with an exaggerated shudder, and before Rafe and I had the chance to turn around, we were asphyxiated by a sickly sweet, cloying scent so suffocating that Mustard Gas would have been a preferable alternative. Barclay stood up, his hackles rising.

“Christ, if that isn’t a sign I don’t know what is.” Rafe nodded at Barclay, before his eyes narrowed at the woman heading for our table. “Dasha.”

“Rafe,” she replied, matching his level of animosity with a raised eyebrow so sharp it could have drawn blood. “Penn. I see you’re all still incapable of doing anything alone.”

“And I see you’re still an evil bitch.”

Lesser death glares had brought thousands of men to their demise, but Rafe merely sipped his champagne exuding a coolness that would have kept the lake in Central Park frozen year round.

I held my breath as she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. Barclay growled, loudly.

“I never understand why they let dogs in here.”

“They let you in,” drawled Penn, forking up the remainder of his Eggs Benedict.

She ignored him, her eyes still trained on me. “How are you, Murray? You look good.”

I put down my glass. “Thank you.”

“What have you been doing with yourself? I haven’t seen you around recently. I’ve missed you.”

In the sober, cold light of day, she was even more vapid and narcissistic than I remembered; shallower than a puddle. Dressed like a Bond villain in all black, her leather pants gave the appearance of having been painted on her mile-long legs, and a fur trimmed sweater wrapped around her neck as though she’d arrived at brunch via Siberia. Such was the contrast between her and Kit that I couldn’t, for the life of me, fathom how I’d ever found her attractive, even with several units of alcohol. They were the antithesis of each other. Kit was warm where Dasha was ice cold, soft where she was razor sharp, light versus dark. I’d question how she hadn’t noticed Bell yet, but you don’t become vapid and narcissistic by noticing things that aren’t about you.

I looked over at Bell, who was now guzzling her bottle in Penn’s arms. “Well, I became a father.”

Dasha’s previously immovable face moved slightly, such was the shock that it broke through her barricade of Botox. “This,” she pointed at Bell, her haughty face filling with horror - or maybe not filling, seeing as she could still barely move it - but if she had been able to, it would have had horror written all over it. “This is your child. How? Who with? You mentioned nothing to me.”

I’d rather have my fingernails pulled out through medieval torture means than share Bell’s history with Dasha. “I’m a single dad.”

Her face contorted into something I assumed she thought was kind and empathetic, but the actual result was more terrifying and horrific, and again made me wonder if I’d actually just been insanely drunk the entire time I’d spent with her. Or just insane. Her severe cheekbones and wide, slanted, feline eyes were not made for smiling.

“Murray,” she purred, “you can’t do this on your own. I will come and help you.”

My jaw clenched, not willing to rise to her veiled insult. Or maybe it wasn’t even veiled because this was how the fights started. “Thanks, but I’m all set. I have all the help I need.”

Penn and Rafe snorted in stereo, making it very clear how I was all set with a lot of help, earning themselves another glare.

“Murraaayyy,” she elongated my name and reached out to touch me, but I moved away before she could, grabbing Barclay’s collar as his teeth bared. “You don’t have to be a single dad.”

“I want to be one.”

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