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She smiled. “Thank you. I’m crazy proud of her.”

“I don’t just mean money, though. I mean like . . . taking care of her while you’re at work or just taking her out to dinner in your neighborhood so you can have a break.”

“Oh.” Cori frowned slightly. “You don’t like hanging out with both of us?”

Shit. This conversation was like a minefield.

“No, it’s not that,” I said. “It’s just . . . being a single parent for so long . . . you’ve never had much time for you. To do adult stuff, like date. When’s the last time you went out?”

“You’re asking because . . . you want to watch Brooklyn while I go out?”

“Sure, yeah.”

Cori shook her head. “I’m always working or with Brooklyn. I don’t exactly have men clamoring at my doorstep.”

“So go out and try. You’re pretty and smart and . . . all that shit.” I ran a hand over my short hair.

“You still think I’m pretty?”

Fuck. There was no winning this conversation.

“Course you are. Any man would be damn lucky to have you. Maybe Viv and I can come over this weekend and take Brooklyn out to dinner so you can give it a go.”

Cori shook her head. “Look, Kane. You’ve only known Brooklyn a couple weeks. I don’t want you bringing women around her.”

I bristled. “It’s not women, it’s only one. Viv and I are together.”

“Sure, but . . . for how long? It’s not good for our daughter to meet every person you go out with.”

The server returned with our sandwiches and we ate in silence. This wasn’t going according to plan. When we finished eating, I picked up the check from the table.

“I have to run payroll at work today so I need to go in early,” I said, getting up from the table.

“Okay, well . . . thanks for lunch. Do you want to come over for dinner this weekend?”

Did I want to have dinner with Cori? Not really. But for now, it was the only way I could see Brooklyn.

“Sure. Text me when and I’ll be there.”

She smiled. “Great. See you then, Kane.”

I drove back to the city in a pensive mood. This shit, I hadn’t seen coming from a mile away. Cori didn’t want Brooklyn meeting Viv. I couldn’t possibly hurt Viv by telling her that.

For now, I’d have to keep the peace by only seeing Brooklyn on Cori’s terms. But I sure as fuck didn’t have to like it.

Viv

I dialed Kane on my cab ride to the airport. When he answered, all I heard was the din of music in the club behind him.

“Hang on,” he said loudly. After a minute, the sound of the music went away. “Hey, sorry. Had to come back to my office.”

“Hi,” I said, missing him already.

“Hey. You on your way? We’ve got that spicy soup you like tonight.”

I sighed. “Sadly, no. I’m on my way to the airport.”

“The airport?”

“Yes. I have to go track a client down in LA. A childish, inconsiderate client who makes me want to scream most every day.”

“On Friday night, though?” His tone was disappointed. We hadn’t seen much of each other this week due to work schedules.

“I know. I’m going now so I can fly home tomorrow night. I didn’t want to get in on Sunday night and have to go right back to work Monday morning. Can we raincheck on dinner til tomorrow night?”

“I’m going to Cori’s tomorrow night.”

“Oh. Damn. I mean, good because I want you to see Brooklyn, but . . . I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. How ‘bout I come over when I’m done over there? She goes to bed by nine and I should be back in the city around ten.”

“Yes. I’d love that.”

“Text me when you get to L.A., alright? And don’t stay in some shithole motel, they’re not safe.”

I smiled. “I’m billing the client, so I will definitely not be staying in a shithole.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, babe.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and laid my head against the window of the cab. Nothing like ending a busy work week with a quick cross-county trip. Especially when I was going just to get a signature from a playboy actor with nothing to do but annoy me.

Hopefully I could sleep on the flight. And I’d have extra time with Kane soon. I was already planning to take most of next week off for Christmas. He and I were spending the day together and flying out the day after to see my parents. He didn’t seem freaked out by it at all.

Everything was going so well. Now I just needed Henley’s signature on his divorce papers.

Henley Cartwright was playing games with me. We’d texted back and forth about where I could find him, but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I was sitting on the bed of my hotel room eating macadamia nuts from the mini bar–which he’d be paying for–when my phone rang with another text from him.

Henley: Got plans tonight? How do u feel about threesomes?

Me: My plans are to get your signature and fly home. Where can I meet up with you?

Henley: Where’s that naughty teacher?

Me: I’m very close to telling Marcus you don’t seem to actually want this divorce.

Henley: Vivian Marceau, you’ll have to play nicer than that to win me over.

I texted several more times about where he was but he ignored all of them.

Asshole.

I finished the nuts and went back to the mini bar, opening a candy bar and taking one bite before tossing it in a trash can. My means of retribution against Henley weren’t much, but it made me feel slightly better.

Still wiped out from the long flight last night, I curled up on the bed for a nap, leaving my phone next to me in case Henley decided to act like an adult and write back.

WHEN BROOKLYN OPENED THE DOOR and smiled up at me, warmth spread through my chest. I’d never get take that beautiful face for granted.

“Hi, Dad. Want to see my new cheer?”

My throat tightened, burning as I fought back tears. The sound of my little girl calling me ‘Dad’ was like nothing I’d ever heard. It was a gift I’d never thought I could dream of deserving.

What made a good father? I sure as hell hadn’t had one. But I wanted to be one. For now, I knew I needed to focus on Brooklyn and make up for all the time I’d missed. Get to know the person she was. Hopefully give her a look at the person I was, too.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I said, walking inside and closing the front door behind me.

The smell of baking herbs, tomato sauce and cheese reminded me of the kitchen at the club. Cori kept a neat, clean house for her and Brooklyn. School pictures of our daughter lined the walls. I wanted a home like this one day, where Brooklyn could see how important she was to me.

“Hey,” Cori said, smiling and wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she walked out of the kitchen. “Glad you came.”

“Thanks for asking me.”

Brooklyn took my hand. Another first. Her tiny fingers pulled on mine and she led me to a small sunroom in the back of the house.

“Stand right here,” she said.

I watched as she went to the other side of the room and did a cheer, clapping and yelling and kicking. Cori stood beside me.

“That was amazing,” I said when Brooklyn was done. “You have to be the most kickass cheerleader at your school.”

She smiled and shrugged. “Not really. Madison Porter is.”

I furrowed my brow. “I doubt it. Can she clap as loud as you?”

“She can do eight backflips in a row.”