Page 48 of Role Play
It’s a far cry from my walk-up in Brooklyn, where the elevator breaks down so often, my calves are toned from the daily trek up six flights. No wonder Hannah looks at me with thinly veiled pity on the rare occasion she drops Dakota off at my place.
The elevator opens directly into their foyer—because of course the penthouse has its own private entrance. No hallways shared with neighbors here. Just twelve-foot ceilings, walls of glass overlooking Central Park, and the kind of pristine white furniture that makes me wonder if anyone actually lives here or if it’s just a showroom for the criminally affluent.
Hannah and Henry occupy the kind of New York City home that appears in glossy magazines. Floor-to-ceiling windows with views that lesser mortals pay to see from observation decks, and furniture that looks like it’s never felt the weight of a human body. It’s beautiful, but sterile. Like a hotel suite rather than a home. Every time I’m here, I find myself scanning for signs of my daughter—a stray toy, a crayon mark on the wall, anything to indicate a child lives here. I rarely find any.
I pound on the door to the main living area, my initial attempt at civility evaporating as I replay the phone call with Principal Vaughn in my mind, imagining Dakota being shipped off to strangers.
I knock again, more forcefully.
The door swings open to reveal Henry, dressed in pressed chinos and a blue button-down like he’s a banker on his way to brunch. His salt-and-pepper hair is perfectly styled, his smile polite but reserved.
“Forrest,” he greets me, stepping back to let me in. “This is unexpected.”
“Where’s Koda?” I ask right away. The silver lining to this impromptu visit is I get to see my kiddo’s cute little smile. That ought to cheer me up and relieve my anger so I can have a cool-tempered conversation with Hannah.
“Dakota is upstate with Mr. and Mrs. Novak this weekend. They heated the pool so she could swim.”
My agitation rises again. “Henry, do you think it’s odd that even though I’m Dakota’s dad, I seem to never know where my daughter is or what she’s up to?”
“I, uh…” Henry diverts his gaze, taking another small step backward. I’m pleased I’ve made him visibly uncomfortable.
“Anyway, I’m here to speak with Hannah,” I say, not bothering with forced pleasantries. “Is she here?”
“She’s in the study.” Henry gestures down the hallway.
“Studying what?” I snark.Gold-digging one oh one?I think to myself.Or has she moved on to an advanced degree when it comes to taking advantage of men’s money?
“It’s just an expression,” Henry adds. “It’s where we keep the desk and computer. I believe she’s editing some photos. I was just heading out, actually.”
I nod, trying to dial back my ire. It’s not Henry’s fault his girlfriend is trying to abandon our daughter. “Sorry to interrupt your weekend.”
He waves off my apology. “Not at all. Family matters are important.” He gives me a strange look, something like pity mixed with relief. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
Henry grabs his jacket and slips out the door, leaving me alone in the expansive living room. I take a deep breath and head toward the study.
I find Hannah at her desk, typing on her keyboard. She looks up when I enter, her expression guarded. “Forrest. What are you doing here?”
“Wesley called me.” I leave the door open and halt two strides away from the desk. “Care to explain why our daughter is being enrolled in a boarding school without my knowledge or consent?”
Hannah’s face does something complicated—surprise, guilt, then defiance, all in rapid succession. “She was accepted into their gifted program. It’s a tremendous opportunity.”
“She’s four years old.” My voice rises despite my effort to stay calm. “And you forged my signature, Hannah. That’s illegal.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” She stands, smoothing down her silk blouse. “I knew you’d react like this without considering the benefits. Dakota isgifted, Forrest. We’d be irresponsible not to give her the best opportunities.”
Obviously, Dakota is precocious. She’s been carrying on conversations like an adult since she was three. But while she’s intellectually advanced, emotionally, she’s still a baby.My baby.
“What’s irresponsible is robbing her of her childhood. Take it from a guy who spent more than twenty years in school. Let her be a kid while she can.”
“For fuck’s sake, get over it. You didn’t slay a dragon. You’re not the only person to graduate from law school. I mean, maybe the only person to graduate and then piss away a multimillion-dollar employment opportunity?—”
“Here we go again,” I grumble.
“Anyway, Dorimer is the best educational institute in the country. The connections she’ll make there, the opportunities she’ll have?—”
“She’s a child, not a networking opportunity.” I take a step closer, forcing myself to lower my voice. “What’s really going on? This isn’t like you. Hannah, you’re a lot of things—a bad mom isn’t one of them. Can’t you see this for what it is?”
Hannah sighs, the fight seeming to drain out of her. She sinks back into her chair. “Henry got offered a position in Tokyo. Six months, maybe longer.”
