She took a tentative step into the hallway, but what she heard made her stop in her tracks.
“You swore you’d bring her this time.” Liam’s tone was heart-broken, guarded.
A woman responded. “I lied. I had to. You wouldn’t see me otherwise.”
Heavy steps sounded from the room as Liam paced. “And you ask why I haven’t forgiven you. Why I’m skeptical. There’s always an excuse with you, Bridget. Always some reason why I can’t see her. You’re keeping Michelle away from me. It’s emotional blackmail.”
“Liam, don’t be like that,” the woman replied in a hurt voice. “I’d never do that to you.”
“You’ve been doing it for six months,” he said in a deceptively quiet voice, the kind that dripped danger. “I haven’t seen her in six whole months. I used to see her every fucking day. How do you expect me to feel?”
Oh, shit. Kate didn’t know what she’d gotten into here, but she needed to get out. She’d stumbled into a very private moment, and she didn’t think Liam would thank her for listening, even though she hadn’t meant to.
And yet, for some reason, the pain in his voice made her want to stay. Who was this woman, Bridget? She couldn’t remember reading anything about his marital status.
“Liam,” Bridget answered. “What do you expect me to do? Your fancy lawyers hound me. They say my own flesh and blood would be better off with you.”
“She would be.”
“It’s time for you to move on. Andy and I are trying to make a go of things. He wants to be there for me and for Michelle. He knows he sucked as a father, but he’s back on track now. He’s given up that woman, and he’s sorry. I know you’re hurt, but we don’t need you interfering, trying to play Dad with our daughter!”
“She was my daughter too!”
“No, Liam. She never was, and you know it. Look, I appreciate you being there for us when Andy was away, and I appreciate you stepping in as a father figure for Michelle. I know you love her, but if you do, you have to give up this insane demand for sole custody. Andy’s her real dad, and he’s getting tired of hearing her ask about you. You need to let us be a family.”
“So I don’t get to see her ever again?”
“No. You don’t. I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.” She sighed, but then her voice changed and Kate heard a soft cry. “Please, Liam. Please stop punishing me.”
Swallowing her queasiness, Kate figured she’d better get out before she heard anything else. She’d already heard too much. She didn’t want him to think she was eavesdropping on purpose. Quietly, she turned the corner and entered the main room.
Bridget’s head popped up in surprise. “Who the hell are you? Another lawyer?”
Liam looked at Kate and his pale face turned red. “Um, no. This is Kate Callender. A…friend.” He shook his head, as if mystified at his own hasty description of her.
Kate didn’t have a chance to react. She was too busy staring at the floor so she wouldn’t embarrass Bridget as she wiped her tears away. She seemed genuinely upset, and as much as her tears worked on Kate’s natural sympathies, she couldn’t forget Liam was standing just a few feet away, hunkered like a wounded animal, struggling with his own demons. She didn’t know which of them was the true injured party, both oozed uneasy vulnerability. What on Earth had happened between them?
Kate gritted her teeth and headed for the elevator. “I was just leaving.” She looked back at Liam. “I’m sorry I interrupted your visit. It wasn’t intentional.”
“Kate, wait. We weren’t done.” The tired tone in his voice made her want to offer him emotional triage. Great. If there was anything Kate loved, it was a man with heavy baggage. Not that she was interested in him or the size of his suitcase.
“You might as well stay,” said Bridget. “Liam and I are finished anyway.” She turned to him. “Please stop sending Michelle gifts and please call off your hounds. You need to stop trying to control this situation. It’s not yours to control. If you ever loved Michelle, you’ll let her have her real father back.”
Liam didn’t say a word. He just stared at the floor as if he wanted to burn a hole in it.
Bridget passed Kate, picked up her purse from a side table and pushed the elevator button. She continued to avoid Liam’s gaze as she waited for the door to close.
Kate stared at her shoes, and then at Liam. He was white, no, grey, in the face. “Liam. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He lifted his head, beaten and exhausted.
Stop punishing me. Bridget’s words haunted her. Kate couldn’t deny there was a part of her that wondered if Liam had a punishing side to his character. Surely he’d trampled a few people on his rise to the top. He’d warned her himself he didn’t forgive and forget.
She needed to make her exit now, before she made him feel any more awkward, and before he made her feel more…whatever that turmoil in her stomach was. It was bad enough she’d seen him at such a private moment, she didn’t need to make things more complicated. She pressed the button to summon the elevator.
In the uncomfortable seconds that followed, Liam walked over to the kitchen counter and fingered the little girl’s coloring book. He began to tear the pages out of the book, one by one. Each rip made him look darker, more despondent, more desperate. By the time he’d torn ten pages out, his lips had pressed so tight they were almost blue.
She wanted to hate him, but right now she couldn’t.
The elevator door opened.
Kate froze. Get in. Get in. Don’t come back.
The door closed again.
All of a sudden, Liam Doyle wasn’t a big, bad casino owner. He was just a man who hurt. And it was in her nature to try and take the hurt away.
Moving quietly, she made her way over to the counter and stood next to him. His cologne wafted over her again, making her want to close her eyes and dream. She touched a hand to his sleeve and then pried the desecrated book out of his hands. He started, as if shocked she was still there.
“Do you want to talk?”
He frowned, his mouth opened once or twice, but no words came out. She knew how she must appear. A few minutes ago, she’d been the harridan he’d been trying to bribe away from his property. Now, she probably sounded like bloody Mary Poppins. She should offer up a goddamn spoonful of sugar while she was at it.
When he didn’t answer, she pointed to the strawberry pastries. “Are those from the restaurant downstairs?”
A fraction of his professionalism returned. “Chef Jean-Claude made them special for me.”
“They’re beautiful. I bet a box of six costs as much as my rent.”
He looked at her for a tense moment and then cracked a sad smile. “Would you like one?”
“No. I mean, I’d love one. I could probably swallow them all whole, but I’m gluten-free and trying hard to be sugar-free.”
One side of his mouth twitched, and a dimple showed under his stubble. Those husky dog eyes still seemed so sad, though. “Why am I not surprised? Well, does your gluten-free, sugar-free diet mean you can’t have coffee?”
“Probably, but a girl’s gotta have some pleasure.”
“Have a seat, then. I’ll make some.” Once again, he gestured to the cushy couches, but this time added, “Please.”
She could have made a crack about how his servants should be making his coffee, but she didn’t. This time, she just offered him a smile, and sat down.
Chapter Four
Liam glanced a couple of times at Kate as he prepared the coffee. She ran her fingers over the couch’s leather upholstery as if she’d never sat on Italian leather before. Maybe she hadn’t. It would explain why she was perched at the edge of the couch, as if afraid to mar it with her presence.
“How do you take it?” he asked, pouring a black one for himself.
“Fully loaded, please.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What was that about sugar-free?”