Page 58 of The Devil Gets His Due

“This,” she says. “They all talk like Daddy.”

“Keeley,” I beg.

An unwilling smile slips over her face as she pulls out the remote and changes the channel. “Fiiine. We’ll watch something else. Have you ever seenCharlie and Lola, Audrey? They talk like your dad too.”

I’m relieved to see it’s animated. I would not have been at all surprised to discoverCharlie and Lolawas a documentary about two British prostitutes.

After Hayes returnsfor his daughter, we walk to Brentwood for dinner. We bring Lola, in theory to get her some exercise, but Keeley spends most of the walk cradling her like a baby.

For the past two blocks, she’s been telling me about the sexy kidnapping movie because, as it turns out, she wants us to watch the sequel together.

“I don’t understand how there can be a sequel,” I argue.

“She gets kidnapped again,” Keeley says, just as the restaurant comes into view. “So, what happens is—”

She suddenly falls silent at the sight of the guy only feet away from us, the one staring at Keeley like he’s seeing a ghost.

Ethan Kramer.

He’s the founder of a tech start-up and worth millions. Hewassomeone whose public opinions I respected, but it’s clear from the look on his face that he knows Keeleywell—which means she dated Ethan Fucking Kramer—and my respect turns to jealousy in a moment’s time.

He walks toward us, frowning as we are introduced. She asks how he’s been and if he’s taken his boat out. His answers are distracted, and his gaze is on her stomach the entire time. “I thought you didn’t want kids,” he finally says.

Her cheeks flush and her long lashes lower as a lock of hair falls across her face. If she wanted to torture this guy with what he’s lost, this was a good day for it: she is glowing, and in tiny shorts and a fitted tee, she makes pregnancyhot.

She shrugs, apologetically. “Accidents happen.”

He glances at me again, eyes narrowed as if I’m at fault. I guess I might be looking at him similarly if our positions were reversed.

Keeley turns toward the restaurant and tells him goodbye, and even after we’ve stepped into the foyer, he’s still standing outside, staring at the door.

“I take it you dated him,” I say. “Recently.”

She bites her lip. “It ended last summer. It had kind of run its course.”

I glance outside. He’s walking off fast, angry. “He seems like he’s not over it.”

She rolls her eyes and shrugs. “I told him at the start I didn’t want anything serious. Rich guys always think they’ll be the exception.”

“I guess he’s the source of your Birkin bag?”

Her eyes narrow. “If you’re about to accuse me of having an ‘arrangement’ with men again, we are going to have an extremely loud and public fight.”

I wince. I’d forgotten I ever said that. To be fair, however, I had no idea she was dating guys like Kramer. “I’m surprised you let him go. I thought your greatest dream was to be kept by a Saudi prince.”

She rolls her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Graham. Do you not know me better than that? My greatest dream is to make my own money and be alone for the years I’ve got left.” She offers me a forced smile. “I’m a butterfly, remember?”

She thinks she doesn’t want to be grounded or kept by anyone, yet she didn’t want to stay inside alone today for five seconds. She follows me around the kitchen in her apartment every night like I’ve got her on a leash, and I’ve even seen her following the cleaning lady around to chat. She doesn’t want to be alone, ever. So why is she telling herself the opposite?

When we return, it’s bedtime. Lola cries when we put her in the crate in Gemma and Ben’s room, and Keeley’s eyes well. “I can’t stand it.”

“Go stay in the guest room,” I tell her. “I’ll sleep in here.”

“Or we could just, you know,notmake her sleep in the crate. She could sleep in bed with me.”

“They’re trying to train her, Keeley. You can’t just undo their hard work. Go to the guest room.”

She does so reluctantly, and I settle into bed, ignoring Lola’s pathetic little cries. This is going to be an issue with me and Keeley once we’re parents: she will give in, and I’ll always be the heavy. She’ll have our kid eating Lucky Charms and sleeping in her bed and watchingBridgerton, and I’ll have to be the bad guy coming in to ruin everyone’s fun. But I guess it’s good that she’s bothered by the crying. Despite all the things that will go wrong, our child will never doubt she’s deeply loved.

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