“I know that. But, even if you had, it wouldn’t have mattered. What you do is no one’s business but yours.”
“I know. But…I just wanted to keep dancing, and it was fun. If I’d known…I never would have taken the job. Fuck!” I cry out.
He takes my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. “And, if you’d never taken that job, I wouldn’t have seen you that night. I wouldn’t have known about Gigi. And we wouldn’t be together right now.”
The front door flies open. Zeus releases me, turning to the door. Probably thinking the same as me—that it’s Gigi. But it’s not. It’s Aunt Elle.
“What the hell is going on out here?” she hisses. “I could hear you yelling from upstairs. FYI, you woke up Gigi. You’ve about six seconds before she’s down here.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. I press my hand to my forehead, turning to Aunt Elle. “The press has put out a story about me. They’re saying I’m a stripper and that I didn’t tell Zeus about Gigi. Jesus, they’re painting me out to be a terrible mother.” Angry tears fill my eyes.
I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen Aunt Elle look as livid as she does right now.
Her eyes flick to Zeus. “What are you doing about this? You have people, right? Can they put a stop to this?”
“I spent all night trying to put a stop to it. My publicist is still on it now, and my lawyer is talking to their lawyers. But I don’t know what good it’ll do. Pharos says they’ve got credible info and story corroboration from people who know Cam well.”
“Bullshit,” Aunt Elle says, sounding as dismayed as I feel.
“People like who?” I say. “No one knows about our history, about you not knowing about Gigi until recently. Well, apart from the three of us standing here. And Ares, Lo, and Missy.”
“Who would never talk to the press,” Zeus affirms.
I nod in agreement.
“Your dad?” I say, hating to say it, but it has to be said.
“He’s too drunk to know the time of day. He barely remembers he has kids, let alone a granddaughter. So, that leaves…”
“Well, Rich knows, but—”
“Deputy Dick? You talked to that prick about us?”
“He’s my friend.”
“Who you used to fuck.”
“Zeus…” I warn. “I trust Rich, and I know he wouldn’t do something like talk to the press. I mean, come on. He’s in law enforcement, for God’s sake.”
“And that means what?”
“That he knows not to talk to the press.”
The derogatory laugh he lets out has me grinding my teeth and feeling surprised that Aunt Elle hasn’t said anything.
“I can’t believe you’re defending that prick,” he growls at me.
“I’m not!” I throw my hands up, frustrated. “I just know he wouldn’t do that. What about Marcel? He just loves to talk to the press.”
That asshole loves the sound of his own voice.
“Why would he?”
“Why wouldn’t he? He kept your daughter’s existence from you. Why not smear my reputation while he’s at it?”
“Marcel doesn’t know that I know about Gigi.”
“You haven’t confronted him about it yet? Why the hell not? Are you afraid of him?”
His eyes lift upward, and he lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, that’s it, Cam. I’m afraid to talk to Marcel. I could kill the guy with one punch, but yeah, I’m terrified of him.”
“So, why not say something to him?”
“Because I’m trying to be smart about it for once. It’s not that I’m not doing anything because I am. Behind the scenes, I’m doing things, going for the guy where it’s going to really hurt him, but it’ll take time. But I know, if I go see Marcel anytime soon, I’ll be spending the next twenty-five to fifty in a state penitentiary for murder. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m contracted to the bastard for my next fight. So, right now, dodging prison and keeping my income are my top priorities now that I have you and Gigi to provide for!”
“I don’t need your money!”
“And I don’t give a fuck! It’s yours anyway!”
“Okay, back to your corners, children.” Aunt Elle stands between us, arms spread out. “I’m pretty sure the whole street just heard that. That means—”
“Mommy?” Gigi’s tiny voice comes from the doorway, and my heart dies in my chest.
I whirl around to her, and the worried look on her face makes me want to find a time machine, go back in time, and tell myself to shut the fuck up.
“Hey, Gigi girl.” I go over and scoop her up into my arms.
“Are you and Daddy fighting?”
“No,” I lie. “We’re just disagreeing. You know, like when you and April Sinclair have a falling-out at pre-K.”
April is Gigi’s best friend, and they argue like sisters would.
“You means, when Apwil takes the toys I’m pwaying with, and it makes me angry.”
“Yeah, kinda like that, baby.”
“So, did Daddy takes something of yours?”
My heart. My virtue. Yep. He definitely took some things of mine and never gave them back.
“Not so much took something. We just disagreed on a subject.”
Zeus comes up behind me, touching his large hand to my shoulder, and cups Gigi’s tiny face in his other hand. “Mommy and Daddy got a little angry with each other, and we yelled. And we’re sorry.”
“Has you said sorrys to each other? ’Cause Miss Maple says we has to says sorry when we yells at each other.”
Zeus’s hand on my shoulder slides up to the side of my head, and he presses his lips to my hair. “I’m sorry, Dove. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
I turn my eyes to his. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Yous can be best fwiends now,” Gigi says like she’s officiating, making me smile.
“But you’re my best friend,” I tell her, pretending to frown.
“Don’ts be silly. You’s my mommy. You can’t be my best friend.” She giggles, and my heart is full again.
“Hey, Gigi girl.” Aunt Elle comes over and takes her from my arms, carrying her. “You wanna help me make breakfast? I was thinking…waffles and bacon.”
“And maple syrup?”
“And maple syrup,” Aunt Elle agrees.
“You’s da best, Granny Elle. We can make waffles and bacon for Mommy and Daddy, too.”
“For sure, Gigi girl.”
I watch them go inside. Leaving the front door open for us.
Zeus turns me to face him. I stare up into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m an asshole.”
“Yeah, you are,” I agree. “But so am I.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re just hurt and scared, and I handled it badly. I fucked up again.”
Tears fill my eyes. He cradles my face in his hands.
“But I’ll fix this, Dove. Whatever it takes. Whoever I have to take down. I’ll do whatever is necessary to make this go away.”
But it doesn’t go away.
Not that Zeus didn’t try. Because he did. Pharos took the story down the next day after Zeus threatened to sue. But it’s no use because the story is on every other gossip site known to man.
He had his publicist put out a statement on his social media, stating the facts—but leaving out Marcel’s involvement. I hate that the asshole is getting off easy, but Zeus assured me that he wouldn’t. He also can’t publically put the blame on Marcel for keeping Zeus from us, not without a mess of a fight on his hands. And, with the fact that he’s contracted to Marcel for the Dimitrov fight, it makes everything so much more difficult. So, the statement went out, saying that mitigating factors had played a part in Zeus not knowing about his daughter up until recently but that I was in no way to blame. And that I’m not a stripper. But the press wasn’t interested. A few small media sports outlets posted his statement, but it’s not juicy in terms of what the media wanted, so it didn’t m
ake the big headlines, and it just fell into the rest of the slush pile.
Me being a stripper and terrible mother are way juicier.
Zeus thinks it’s all his fault. He thinks, by not protecting me from this or being able to fix it, it somehow makes him a failure.
I’ve told him that he can’t protect me from everything.
People might think he’s a god. But he’s not. He’s human. He bleeds like the rest of us.
He isn’t used to losing a fight though. So, this has been hard on him. And me, too.
I started to wonder if this was some kind of omen. We’d just gotten back together, and then this happened.
But Zeus quickly talked that thought out of my head.
Of course, the press came to town. I had photographers following me when I was taking Gigi to pre-K. The one good thing about working at the precinct is that they look after their own. Whether they think you’re a stripper or not. I might not be an officer, but when you work at the precinct, you’re as good as one.
So, Port Washington’s law enforcement has made it very clear to the press that they’re not welcome here.
It’s been well over a week now, and the press seems to be losing interest, which is good news for me.
But, sadly, the other moms at pre-K don’t seem to be losing interest, and I’m still the top story of the moment. I don’t know if it’s because of who Zeus is. Or that they think I’m a stripper. Or that they think I purposely kept Zeus from his daughter. Or all three. In any case, my patience is wearing thin.
No one’s said anything directly to me yet, but I’m getting the stares and disapproving looks from the moms along with leers from some of the dads, and I’ve been hearing the whispers about me when they think I’m not listening.
Zeus wanted to do school drop-off with me, so I wouldn’t be alone, but I told him no. It’s bad enough when he’s not there. Could you imagine the looks I would get if he were?
I just don’t want any unnecessary attention brought Gigi’s way.
She’s doing fine. Of course, she asked why people wanted to take our pictures. And I just told her it was because Daddy’s a famous boxer, and she was satisfied with that. She even started waving at the photographers, and I didn’t stop her.
I did speak to her pre-K teacher when the story first broke. Not the most comfortable of conversations, but I wanted her to be in the know. She was great. And, apparently, she’s a big boxing fan. Meaning a big fan of Zeus’s. Insert eye roll here.
And we had no problems at all—up until yesterday. Well, it wasn’t so much a problem. More of a question when I buckled Gigi up in her car seat and started the drive home.
“Mommy, what’s a stwipper?”
I had to stop myself from slamming on the brakes. And bursting into tears.
I kept myself together and continued driving the car. “Where did you hear that word, baby?” I asked her.
“Well, at recess, Bentley Parsons said to me that he heard his mom tell his dad that you’s a stwipper.”
I felt my heart crack down the middle.
“Bentley said to you that Mommy is a stripper?”
“My mommy, not his. He said his mommy’s a party pwanner. What’s a party pwanner?”
“Someone who plans and organizes parties for other people.” And gossips about other people and gives their kid a stupid name.
“I thinks I wants to be a party pwanner when I’s a grown-up.”
“I think you’d be an excellent party planner, Gigi girl.” I smiled at her in the rearview mirror.
It was quiet for a moment, and I thought I’d dodged a bullet—until she said, “You didn’t answer my question, Mommy.”
My heart sank. “What question was that?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I said, what’s a stwipper?”
I knew there was no avoiding it, and I wasn’t going to lie to her, so I took a deep breath and told her the truth, “Well, a stripper is a person who dances in front of people as a job, like Mommy did at the club, but the difference is that a stripper removes their clothes, and Mommy never did that when she danced.”
I glanced at her in my rearview again and saw that her eyes were as wide as saucers.
“They gets naked?” she whispered.
“No, not totally naked. They keep their underwear on.”
Okay, so I had to lie a little. I didn’t want to scar her little mind for life.
“So, Gigi, if Bentley Parsons or anyone else says that your mommy is a stripper, you tell them they’re wrong.”
“Oh, I dids, Mommy. I said he was a big, fat wiar. I said that’s my mommy is a ballerina, and she’s the most beautiful ballerina ever.”
Then, I did cry. Not because I was sad. Well, a little because I was sad. But mostly because I had the best kid in the whole world.
Zeus has brought me out to dinner. He said we needed to get out and spend some time together. Aunt Elle offered to look after Gigi. They’re having pamper and movie night.
We’ve come to Louie’s Oyster Bar & Grille. They do amazing seafood, and we’re seated at a table that offers both privacy and a great view over Manhasset Bay.
But it seems that privacy still isn’t enough. Because not long after we’ve placed our order for food, someone having dinner there gets up from their table and comes over to ask for Zeus’s autograph. And that brings more people.
Zeus obliges, signing autographs and even posing for a few pictures.
I’m trying not to feel resentful. But, after having a camera shoved in my face for over a week, my patience is starting to wear thin.
I get that these people support him. But they could also be the people listening to the gossip being spread and spreading it themselves.
“I’m going to the restroom,” I tell Zeus, pushing my chair out, as he talks boxing with this overly eager thirty-something woman.
I take my time in there. Reapplying my lipstick, fluffing out my hair. I’m basically wasting time before I have to go back to our dinner for two, plus one and whoever else might have turned up.
I exit the restroom, and I’m surprised to see Zeus leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for me.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod.
“Let me ask again. Are you okay? And don’t lie this time.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “No,” I answer truthfully. “We’ve had a shitty week. And we’re supposed to be here, spending time together, but the only time we’ve actually done that tonight was in the car on the way here because, since we arrived, everyone else has been commanding your attention. And I know that it’s not your fault. But I’m feeling pissy and irrational right now, so I’m blaming you.”
“So…am I to take it that you’re not enjoying yourself?”
My eyes flash to his, and the fucker is smiling.
“Ass.” I give him a shove in his shoulder.
He grabs hold of my wrist and hauls me into his big body, wrapping his arms around me. He brushes his lips over me, and I relax at his touch…his taste.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “I wanted tonight to be just ours, too.”
I sigh. “I know. It just sucks at the moment.”
“You wanna get out of here? Go somewhere that sucks a little less?”
“Or sucks better,” I quip.
He chuckles deep. I feel the vibrations from his chest creep into mine.
I tip my head back a little and stare into his eyes. “We’ve already ordered our food,” I say grimly.
“They’re wrapping the food up as we speak, so we can take it with us.”
My brow lifts. “So, we were already leaving?”
He gives me a boyish smile. “I know you well, Dove.”
“Clearly.”
He presses his lips to mine again. “I was thinking we could take the food back to my place, and I could use you as my dinner plate.”
“This is a fish restaurant.”
I wrinkle up my nose, a
nd he laughs.
“I’m sure there’s a bad sex joke in there somewhere,” he says.
I playfully frown at him.
“Okay, so no eating food off your body.” He puts his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “I guess I’ll just have to eat you instead.” He slips his hand between our bodies and cups me through my dress, pressing his fingers into me.
I moan softly, and he kisses me again, sinking his teeth into my lower lip, tugging on it.
“Let’s go,” he growls.
Zeus leads me back out into the restaurant. Our food is ready to go at the counter. As Zeus already paid, we’re out of there and heading for his car. His arm is around me, and I’m staring into his face, listening to the dirty things he’s whispering about, including what he’s going to do to me when he gets me home.
We’re so wrapped up in each other that we don’t see him at first. It’s the sound of the camera snapping pictures that captures my attention. I’ve been hearing that sound for over a week now, so I’m well accustomed to it.
And I’ve gotten familiar with the paparazzi hanging around, taking pictures. But this guy…I don’t know.
“Ignore him,” Zeus says, drawing me closer to his body as he walks us to his car.
“Hey, Zeus! How do you feel about your baby mama keeping your daughter from you? You seem okay by the looks of things. So, you guys are back together? Does that mean you’re giving up stripping, Cameron?”
My face is going beet red. I’m shaking. I just want to get out of here and away from this guy.
“Why did you strip, Cameron? For the money? Or do you just like taking your clothes off for people? You know, there are people who’d pay good money to see you naked. Me included.”
Zeus whirls around, letting go of me. He steps up to the pap. “Back the fuck off,” Zeus barks at him.
The pap holds his hands up and takes a step backward. “Just stating facts, man.” He gives a shrug.
“No, you’re talking shit,” Zeus growls.
I slide my trembling hand into Zeus’s and tug on it. “Let’s just go, Zeus. Please.”
Zeus’s eyes come to mine. Angry and frustrated. It feels like forever before he nods his agreement, and then we’re moving again. Quicker this time.
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