Page 84 of The Endowment Effect

“See?” She thrust the paper toward him, but he avoided her finger-pointing by opting to put one of the work gloves back on.

“Yeah,” he said, tousling her hair. “Gotta lot of work to do, kiddo.”

Unaware of the dismissal, she refolded the paper, stuck it back in her pocket, grabbed her paintbrush, and dutifully followed him to the other side of the house.

Birdie pushed herself from the step, not an easy thing to do with such high heels and brushed off the dust and recent paint scrapings from her backside.

“That was, interesting,” she said, not sure what else to say. “He totally blew her off.”

Grant stood beside her and shook his head as he removed a paint lid with a screwdriver. “He’s just a bit blindsided. Not sure how to feel about… having an insta-family.”

“I’m not asking him to be a part of anything.”

Grant gave her a look full of criticism. “I don’t think keeping Mia a secret from him for fourteen years did him any favors, Birdie.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, her throat constricting. “You’re right.”

He laid the paint lid on one of the steps. “Not interested in you agreeing with me, I’m interested in knowing what you were thinking. What would make you do such a thing?”

There were so many reasons, none of which she cared to divulge. If anyone should know the truth, it should be Lucas. Certainly before sharing with anyone else.

“I couldn’t tell him. I don’t expect you to understand, but trust me when I tell you there wasn’t even a remote possibility.”

“You’re asking a lot when you ask me, of all people, to trust you.”

Good point. He was an officer of the law and she wasn’t exactly Wayward’s person of the year, or decade, for that matter.

“Can we focus on what’s important? Mia? I’m afraid he’s going to treat this visit like a one and done and walk away from her.”

“Wow, talk about pot calling kettle…”

In hindsight, not the best choice of words.

Grant two, Birdie zero.

She toed her heel into the grass avoiding his narrowed gaze. “Well, I can see you’re still harboring some resentment.”

He straightened and shook his head with a sigh. “You gave me my first lap dance.” And then as if to twist the knife, he added, “When I was fifteen.”

She felt a little sick to her stomach at the memory. One of many ill-conceived attempts to gain Lucas’s attention that failed epically.

“Mind you, I’m not saying it wasn’t a good one,” he admitted with a suppressed smile. “Just fucked up considering who was watching.” He glanced toward the side of the house where Lucas was working.

She batted a gnat away from her face, as her cheeks flushed red. “Yeah, about that,” she said, scrunching her face. “I’m really sorry. That was totally inappropriate. But this is about Mia and what’s best for her.”

Grant sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “You need to give him time. He’s got this hang-up of sorts. Thanks to you and other shitty life experiences he doesn’t allow himself to get too attached to people, or things, for that matter. Likes to keep everyone at a distance. To not care too much.”

That didn’t sound like the Lucas she knew. “What do you mean?” The Lucas she remembered was overly kind and attentive to everyone.

“Don’t ask me. Calls it the Endowment Effect.”

“Well, now he’s just bragging…”

“It’s a financial term,” Grant interrupted with an accusing glare. “A term he learned in some finance class that he’s philosophically applied to life and relationships. He let it slip one inebriated night at the Wayward Whiskey House, one of the few times I’ve ever seen him hammered.” He wiped his hands on a towel he produced from his back pocket. “It was after Rachel’s accident. He slurred some gibberish about when you own something, or love something or someone you place a higher value on it, rather than if you had chosen to never own it or love it in the first place.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Okay, you know that cozy house of his?”

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