Page 38 of Bonus Daddy
“She collected stamps,” Sloane hissed a little too loudly, making the baby stir in my arms. “Stamps. We should have known she had psychopathic tendencies.”
I shuddered. She really was an odd woman.
“Anyway,” she sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that despite being good-looking, successful, and kind, your track record with women is shit.”
Amusement and incredulity twined through me. “Why, thank you.”
She tipped her head and gave me a serious look. “I tell the truth because I love you. You’re my brother, and I want to see you happy. You’ve been on autopilot for so long, so to know you’re having feelings makes me disgustingly happy.”
My heart sank. “It’s unethical.”
She waved her hand. “Of course it is. But she won’t be your client forever.”
“And she’s leaving.”
“Maybe.” She crossed her arms. “If you’re successful.”
Head tilted, I glared at her. “You know I’m good at my job.”
Tia stirred in my arms again, this time getting a little louder, so I handed her back to her mother.
“Honor your feelings,” she said as she took the baby. “Explore them. Keep going to therapy and work through your shit.”
A huff of air escaped me. “Does everyone know I’m going to therapy?”
She let out a quiet laugh. “As if you could keep a secret in this building. Of course we all know, and I’m proud of you. Do the work. Trust me, because I have firsthand experience here.” Shesobered, her tone going serious. “If the stars align and you’re given a second chance with your first love? Then you’d better not blow it.”
Her words hit me hard. “You think I’d blow it?”
“No. Not if you’re determined to do it right. But you’re a little emotionally unavailable. And you know me. I have a soft spot for emotionally unavailable men who do the work and learn to do better.”
The beautiful baby in her arms was living proof of that statement. If Sully could win back his wife when they were on the brink of divorce, surely I could figure out how to manage my attraction to my client.
Tia let out the cutest little yawn and her eyes snapped open.
“Feeding time,” Sloane said, padding down the hall toward the bathroom.
It may have seemed like a strange place to feed a baby, but when she moved in last year, she and Sully had converted the handicap stall into a sort of lounge for her, with a lava lamp, courtesy of T. J., a plush rug, and a rocking chair.
“You’ve got a heart of gold, Brian Machon, and a brain that’s worth nine hundred dollars an hour. Put them to work and get your girl.”
Chapter 14
Jess
No matter how many cleansing breaths I took, nerves overwhelmed me. If I hadn’t already bitten off all my nails, I’d do it again. I was half tempted to take off my shoes and bite my damn toenails at this point.
Being a mom was joyful and amazing. Absolutely the greatest experience of my life. But at times, it was terrifying. Because I couldn’t protect them from failure or disappointment or hurt, and I couldn’t fix all of life’s problems for them.
And this was a big stage. The Brooklyn Academy of Music was one of New York’s most prestigious performing arts centers. Being invited to play in a showcase here was a very big deal, and Kit had been obsessing for months over her piece.
The space was something out of a movie,with crystal chandeliers, velvet curtains, and art déco architecture. The scent of expensive perfume wafted around like a floral cloud, and the high-society alpha parents working the room around me only made me feel more out of place.
Most days, I was proud of the life my girls and I were creating for ourselves. But in a place like this, surrounded by Julliard prodigies, private tutors, and world-class teachers, I couldn’t help but doubt myself.
Kit had fallen in love with the piano when she was four.
The white marble foyer of our house in Bergen County was bigger than the apartment the girls and I inhabited now, and Kenneth had insisted on placing a grand piano in the middle of it. The instrument was beautiful and cost more than most luxury cars, but neither of us played. It was a showpiece the designer thought would add to the ambiance, I guess.
