by Ruby Knoxx
I shrugged. “There’s more. Turns out she has a daughter. Or, I have a daughter.” I told him everything that happened the day before, from seeing Justine at the office to leaving her apartment and feeling awful for it. “I don’t know what to do. I pride myself on a certain order of things. And this is not it.”
Maxen rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? You know that life isn’t a neat row that you keep tidy, right? Life gets messy, and you have to learn to handle it. This is one of those things you handle, and I’m sorry, Leon, but your mate is that messy part. You can’t leave your mate behind because she doesn’t fit neatly into the order of things.”
“It’s so complicated. She’s human. She has a kid.”
“No, you have a kid,” Maxen corrected. “And that is brilliant news. It might not be what you expected or how you expected it to happen, but you’ve got a second chance. Think of how many of us shifters are out there who have lost their mate and don’t get this chance. You’re an idiot if you’re thinking of letting this opportunity go.”
I nodded, wanting to believe him. He made it sound like it was so simple, but it didn’t feel simple. It felt complicated and like some riddle I had to figure out. He was right, though: it was straight forward. I just couldn’t seem to get myself to understand that part.
My mind kept going back to the part where she didn’t tell me. It should have been the first thing she said when she saw me in the office. Not business. Not “it was nice to see you.” But “Leon, I have something important that you need to know.” Who didn’t put their kid first? Instead, she let me think that maybe we were going on a date, we slept together, we cuddled together, we ignited something that I thought was long gone, and the only reason she said anything to me was because I happened to see the photo there on the wall.
I wondered if she would have said anything if we had gone out to dinner and gone back to my place. I wondered how long it would have been before she shared that secret with me.
That was what I couldn’t get my head around. And if she hadn’t told me that whopper of a detail, then what else was she hiding from me?
Did I have the right to know any of what she hid from me in the first place? Just because we slept together didn’t mean that she wanted to be with me. I had slept with plenty of women since her, but not one part of me felt like they could be anything more than a good time for the night. Even if Justine and I did have a history together, that didn’t mean that the night meant just as much to her as it had to me. It just kind of happened, hadn’t it?
“She didn’t tell me,” I said at last. “That’s the bottom line. She only told me because I saw the evidence. I mean, would she have told me if I hadn’t seen those photos?”
“Leon, I’m telling you this as your friend. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” I challenged.
“Yes, you are. Wasn’t it her idea that you hang out at her place?”
I nodded.
“And do you think she went around and hid all the proof that there was a kid there before you arrived, even though she didn’t know you were coming? You said she was supposed to meet you at the restaurant, didn’t you?”
I sighed. He was beginning to make me look like an idiot, or at least point out that I was making myself look like an idiot. I rolled my head back and closed my eyes against the sky. “No, I don’t think she decided to go around and hide everything.”
“Right. And when you were there, you talked about your burning questions, right? You dealt with the things that had been on your mind.”
I was seeing where he was going with this. “I didn’t give her the opportunity to ask anything, did I?”
“From what you told me, no, you didn’t.”
I closed my eyes, turning my face up to the sun. I listened to the seagulls and the waves hitting the shore, taking in the salt in the air. I was being a grade-A ass. I could see it all too clearly now.
“Damnit,” I muttered. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“At least you’re admitting that I’m right,” he smiled.
“I’ll call her when I get back and try and smooth things over,” I said reluctantly.
“Atta boy,” Maxen said, slapping me on the back. “Now stop dragging your feet, and let’s get jogging again.”
We were about to set off, turning back in the direction we came from, when my phone in my armband started buzzing. I put up a finger to slow Maxen as I unzipped the pouch and rolled my eyes. Royce Rogers.
“Mr. Rogers,” I said as I answered. “Good morning.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing you this early,” he said on the other end of the phone. He was an older man, and I could hear the slight wheeze in his breath. He wasn’t healthy, I knew that much when I met him. He might have been a shifter, but it didn’t mean he looked after himself.
“Not at all,” I said. “I was just out for a jog.”
“Better you than me,” he chuckled. “I wanted an update on the progress so far.”
“Nothing to report yet, sir,” I said. “Justine was putting together a file of potentials for me, and I was going to head to the office this morning so I could go through them.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll accompany you.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said, inwardly shuddering at the idea of bringing a tag-along with me after the way I left things last night. It would look like I was trying to avoid being alone with her. That would only make things worse, wouldn’t it?
“Don’t you think I should be a part of the selection process?” he asked. “After all, if there’s, say, a list of ten women and I only like three of them, then it makes your job a lot easier to only vet those three opposed to all ten.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “Of course,” I said. “I should be ready and able to get there in about an hour and a half. Does that work for you, sir?”
“I’ll meet you outside the building, Leon.”
He hung up the phone without saying anything more.
I glanced at Maxen, unable to contain my look of disdain. “We need to get back. Duty calls.”
Chapter 8 – Justine
I had woken up with a start when my alarm hadn’t gone off as early as it normally did. Then I remembered that Kitty had stayed the night with Nina, who was taking her to school that morning. It helped me to relax, though neither my mind nor body would allow it. As I dragged myself into the longest shower of my life and decided to use the extra time to prep dinner for that evening so that all I had to do was stick it in the oven later, I was beating myself up over the night before.
The whole time I got ready for work, walked to work, and made my way to the fifth floor and into my office, I berated myself for sleeping with Leon. I should have stuck to the game plan. I should have just gone out to dinner or coffee or whatever with him, on neutral ground, and we could have answered each other’s questions and gone our separate ways.
Or I should have told him about Kitty first thing.
I didn’t know. Maybe telling him about Kitty would have stopped any other discussions. I might not have gotten the closure I wanted, and he wouldn’t have gotten his. But at least it would have been the most important thing out of the way, right? I had gone six years without closure, as had he. I was sure it wasn’t essential.
All I knew was that I knew better than to let Leon back into my life. It was one thing when I was just a woman who was in a band. But that wasn’t me anymore. I was a mom now. And while yes, I did still play music, and I one day hoped to play in a band again, I wasn’t the kind of woman who just hopped into bed with anyone. That was why Leon had been the last man I had cared about and the last man I had been with.
And who was to say that he would like the new me, anyway? I should have just taken it slow. But he didn’t do things slowly, did he? After all, hadn’t he convinced me after a couple of dates to rent a house together for a week away from everyone? And at the end of it told me he was my mate? There was no slow speed for him.
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But I couldn’t do fast-paced. I had had to learn patience all through the time when I was healing and having to relearn how to use my limbs again. I had needed patience while I learned to walk all over again, watching my daughter do the same, though for her first time. I could be patient. And I had to be patient, if for no other reason than that my life wasn’t my own. It was my daughter’s as well.
As I waited for my computer to turn on, I put my forehead on my desk.
I couldn’t believe I slept with him. What had I been thinking? Had it been so long that I had lost my senses? Or was it just that I found Leon that intoxicating?
I didn’t entirely regret it. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that kind of release until I had it. Still, I was upset at myself about the poor choice in partner. Then again, when had I slept with anyone who had made me feel the way Leon did?
Well, it didn’t matter now. He had shown his true colors. Kat and I came as a package, and he wasn’t getting one without the other.
I groaned. I should have just told him about her from the start, let him decide then and there. Then I wouldn’t have been feeling so guilty that morning. I would have known that I had been responsible and sane. Instead, I felt like I was the rock star woman I was before my accident and before Kat. I guess if nothing else, I discovered that she still existed in me. While my actions weren’t the best, I was glad to know that she was still around.
But as far as I was concerned, she was the only one from that era who was allowed to be around, and only in responsible doses. I had given Leon the chance to be a man, and he failed. That was his loss. For now, I needed to be my own grown up and get myself ready for the day.
I knew he’d be in at some point to collect the files for Mr. Rogers. The best thing I could do was get them ready to hand them off to him, so I needed to spend as little face time with him as possible.
As I put together the list and printed out the headshots of the women, I began mentally practicing how I would interact with him, trying to make myself sound as professional as possible. I didn’t want him to think there was anything lingering after the night before. A professional face and tone should do the trick, and as long as I stuck to that, then hopefully he would get the message that there was nothing more between us.
At least, I kept telling myself there was nothing between us. But when my mind flashed back to the night before, my toes curled in my shoes as heat rushed through me. It wasn’t even his physical touch, but just the sight of him. Those eyes of his did something to me, like he had a hook in me and reeled me in with his gaze.
You’re comparing yourself to a fish now, Justine Justice, I scolded myself. Time to knock it off and start focusing on your pretty, new job.
That seemed to prompt my rebellious mind to drift even further. Instead of reading through the emails on my computer and responding to requests, my mind repeatedly wandered forward, peeking into the life I might have had with Leon. I could just see him in the park with Kat, teaching her how to throw and hit a baseball, teaching her to ride a bike, and both of us cheering her on at talent shows where she played “Bohemian Rhapsody” on the guitar. I saw us putting her to bed at night before curling up on the couch together to enjoy a glass of wine at the end of the day, and going to visit my parents during school vacations.
Those were just fantasies, though. I had no time to be playing in the fictional realm, not when Leon made it very clear that he had no capacity to be a father.
Not more than an hour had gone by when I heard the door to the lobby open. One day, when I could justify it, I would hire a secretary. Until then, I glanced up, peeking through the window of my office door and feeling my heart leap to my throat as Leon stepped through the door. A fluttering of excitement started in my belly and rose through my core, reaching down my arms into my fingertips at the sight of him.
I needed to calm down. That was not very professional. And I needed to give up whatever girlish hopes I had that there would be something more.
Then I saw the figure coming in behind him, dressed in a white suit. Through the combination of the figure’s movement and the narrowness of the window, I couldn’t quite make out who it was. Why would Leon have someone with him?
“I hope I’m not too early,” Leon said. “I wanted to collect that list of brides, or whatever.”
His eyes landed on me, but only for a moment before they went to the floor and he stepped to the side. That was when I realized who was with him.
I stood, extending my hand. “Mr. Rogers,” I said, putting on a smile. “So nice to meet you in person.”
“Miss Wilson,” he said, taking my hand in both of his. “I’m always happy to be in the presence of a pretty face.”
I kept my polite smile in place as I gently tugged back my hand from his and gestured toward the chair in front of me.
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I wanted to see how progress was going,” he said. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the hand that had shook mine before he sat down in the chair. “Leon here said he was coming in to pick up your list of potentials, and I thought I would accompany him, try and make sure he doesn’t work too hard, eh?” He laughed, leaning back, with a hand on his belly.
Royce Rogers wasn’t an unattractive man, but it would be over-zealous to call him attractive at all. His style was certainly lacking, at least in this century. He wore a white, three-piece suit, which matched the fading color of his thin, once ginger hair. His clothing showed his wealth, and perhaps in some parts of the world he would be considered “dapper,” though this did not make for attractive. He was simply a man with a round belly, a big laugh, and a loud wheeze, the kind that made you feel that he might secretly be oozing phlegm wherever he touched. He was at least in his early 50s, though had specifically stipulated that he wanted a mate around my age.
When I first read his emails and his request, my heart went out to him because he was an aging man looking for a companion. But, as time went on, that feeling was balanced out by the entitlement that he should defy whatever destiny it was that worked with shifters and find himself a pretty young thing, just because he was backed by buckets of cash. It just seemed strange to me that he didn’t want to find himself a wife any other way. Then again, shifters weren’t human. There were things probably going on behind the scenes that I just didn’t understand.
“I have the start of a list here for you,” I said, turning my chair to the window behind me, and picking a file from the open file drawer. “But I have to say, usually we don’t pass this over until we have a good match. These are just the ones that look good on the surface.”
I passed him the file as he started thumbing through it.
“And if I don’t like the look of any of the girls in here?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the images.
“The whole nature of what we do goes beyond looks,” I said. “The images are only there so that when you two do eventually meet, you’ll know who the other one is. Kind of like a blind date.”
“None of these girls are as pretty as you are,” Mr. Rogers said, his eyes dancing up to meet mine. I looked away, pretending not to notice. Instead, my own eyes landed on Leon, who leaned against the wall, his muscular arms crossed, his eyes watching the back of his client’s head with an intensity that I couldn’t quite place. Was he jealous that Mr. Rogers was flirting?
I smiled, tight-lipped, but ignored the comment. “Once the first process of getting the initial list is done, then I’ll personally begin combing through to find personality matches. These are just what the computer’s algorithm threw together.”
“Say,” Mr. Rogers said, leaning forward on an elbow. “Why don’t we just throw this file here away and you come on out with me.”
“I would say that would be bad for business.” I forced a light-hearted laugh, my skin crawling.
He smiled, his tongue running along the bottom of his lip before he looked
down over my desk. His hand reached out and picked up the photo of Kat on my desk.
“You have a little girl?” he asked.
I nodded. “That’s my daughter.” I hoped that Leon heard the word “my” and not “our” when I spoke, while I tried very hard not to look over at him while I said it, though it stung in my throat.
“She sure looks as sweet as a peach. I bet she’s really smart, too.”
“She is,” I replied, not liking my daughter being a topic of conversation. “And musical.”
He laughed. “I’ll be. How can a girl that young have such talent?”
I thought about how I would bring out my guitar and show her what the chords were as I played them. It was getting to the point where I would play a song and have her tell me where to put my fingers before I strummed, and she could. She absorbed so much. That year for Christmas I had planned on getting her her own guitar, one she could grow into and learn on.
“I guess I’m just lucky,” I said, eager to change the subject. “Here are the profiles,” I said, passing a thumb drive over to Mr. Rogers. “These have all the details that the computer used for their algorithm. I’ll comb through these, and then I’ll devise some questions based on my information on you and send them to these women, and then we’ll go from there.”
“That’s a lot of work,” he said. “I suppose you’re worth your money.”
“I like to think so,” I replied, folding my hands together. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Unless you want to come back with me so I can get to know you better?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I didn’t tell him where to stick his business like I wanted to. Instead, I laughed, putting it down to a harmless, though irritating joke. The sooner I got that man out of my office, the better.
Mr. Rogers’ hand went back to the photo, and he lingered on it. I hated that it had his attention, and it was everything in me not to snatch the picture away and put it in my desk.
“You know,” he said, his eyes moving to me while his hand stayed in place. “Truth be told, I’m not actually looking for love.”