Zach crouches, catching him right when he jumps and lifts him too.
“Autumn, meet my niece and nephew. Nova and Nyles. Nate Chadwick is the one with the throbbing vein on his forehead.”
“You’re not funny,” Nate says, shaking his head.
“Where’s Nyx? Did she run away after I called her?”
Instead of asking who Nyx is, I introduce myself properly.
“Hi, I’m Autumn Wickerton.” I wave at the three of them.
Nate gives a curious glance at Zach before saying, “It’s nice to meet you. We should go inside. Nyx is finishing a call.”
I follow. Zach sets the kids down on the ground. They both run to the kitchen, and their father and the dog are right behind them.
“They seem energetic.”
Zach nods. “They have two speeds: running and sleeping.”
“How are you related to them?”
“Zach’s my late sister’s husband.” A woman who looks a lot like the little girl appears. I stare at her and then at him. Late sister? He was married? What happened to his wife? I have so many questions. Before I can ask anything, I take a closer look at Nyx, who extends her hand. “Hi, I’m Nyx Brassard-Chadwick.”
“Nyx Brassard. I knew you looked familiar. You’re Persy’s sister.”
She nods.
“I’m Autumn Wickerton,” I introduce myself, shaking her hand while trying to sort all the information they just dumped on me. He was married. She’s Persy’s sister. Was he married to Calliope? As I’m trying to solve the mystery, panic cripples up my spine. He’s not trying to help me. He tricked me into coming over so I’d sign the release so Persy could air my call.
“Should I be concerned about this visit?” Nyx asks.
“It’s related to the calls, but it’s not what you think,” Zach says. “This is about Matilda’s grandparents.”
I look at him, skeptical. Is it just about the Blackthornes?
“Then we should go to my office.” She turns to look at her husband. “Will you be okay?”
“What’s the worst that can happen? There’s an extinguisher in every room. I put away the knives, and nap time is in thirty minutes.”
“I feel so much better.”
“You should. We’re probably going to the playground. Love you, babe.” He winks at her and blows her a kiss. She captures it and touches her chest lightly as if she’s saving it in her heart. They’re adorable. The pang of jealousy I feel when Aiden and Miranda do something that sweet pinches my heart. Pax and I were too young to have a relationship like that. It hurts to know I’ll never have it, but at least I have Matilda with me.
We enter an office that faces Lake Washington. It has double-glass doors, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and there’s a corner where there are toys and books. I assume it’s for her children.
“Please take a seat.” She shows us to a leather couch and sits in a recliner. “How can I help you?”
“I’m not sure.” I point at Zach. “He thinks I need to talk to you. As you probably know, my daughter sent an email to your sister, and they had three phone conversations which aired.”
“Four,” she corrects me.
I wave a hand. “Either way, it occurred to me that if Zach were able to recognize my family, so would a lot of people. What if the Blackthornes recognize her, and they try to fight me for custody?”
She flinches and shakes her head. “Didn’t I say that we shouldn’t air that call?”
“You did,” Zach agrees.
She stands up and grabs a yellow pad from her desk and a pen. “But no one listens to me. Let’s talk about your in-laws. Start from the beginning. Where is her father?”
This is a conversation I hate to have with anyone, even more so with a stranger.
I start with their background. Mr. Blackthorne was Dad’s partner. He was the mastermind behind the embezzlement and the insider trading scandal. He knew how to fix things in a way that made my father look guilty. He got a slap on the wrist and didn’t lose a cent or sleep while Dad went to jail.
“Mom didn’t want to pull me out of the school. The principal offered me a scholarship. Mom accepted it without thinking about the bullying or…” I shrug. “Pax was always by my side. He switched his schedule so we’d be in the same classes. He watched me and protected me. We applied to the same colleges. His parents hated me because he declined to go to Harvard so he could stay with me. He died in a car accident. I survived…”
“They wish it had been you instead of him, don’t they?” she asks.
I nod, swallowing the knot rooting in my throat.
She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you’re with us.”
I tell her more about Megan Blackthorne and how she threatened to take Matilda away.
“Listen, I think the best will be to take the call off the air. Is it okay with you if I call my sister to explain the issue?”
“I don’t want to be a—”
“You have to put your daughter’s safety first,” she interrupts me. “I don’t work during the weekends, but I’ll dig up some information on the Blackthornes. In my opinion, they don’t have a case against you. The calls were innocent. It’s a conversation between an influencer and a girl who wants to see her mother smile, be happy. I bet she learned to be caring and supportive from you.”
“Maybe I’m overreacting,” I say.
“I like to be proactive,” she insists. “My firm and I take these types of cases seriously. In fact, if any of them threaten to fight you for custody, I want you to call me right away. They might just be doing it to intimidate you. They want you to live in fear. That’s bullying. I’ll stop them.”
“I can’t afford you.”
“I’m not charging you anything. I’ve been there, and thankfully I had plenty of people who supported me. Now it’s time to pay it forward.”
“Thank you.”
She hands me her card. “Text me next Monday so I can work on this case.”
“Can you apologize to your sister? I feel like I’m letting her down.”
“She might be able to spin it or do something cool with it. Maybe you can give her an interview in exchange?”
“I’ll call her.”
I turn to look at Zach as I pull out my phone so I can get myself a Lyft. “If you want to stay with your family, I’m okay.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, we can go.” He turns his attention to Nyx. “Thank you for receiving us on such short notice. Are you guys staying long?”
“We’ll be here this week. I get to host Thanksgiving, so the family will be here tomorrow. You should come by and have dinner with us. Bring your brothers and your sister.” She glances at me and smiles. “Why don’t you two bring Matilda? We have an indoor pool, a playground, and a bowling alley. You can be here early, around three, so she can enjoy the house.”
“Thank you, but I work tomorrow night.”
“Brunch?” she asks.
I’m about to shake my head when Zach says, “We’ll see you here. Do you want me to bring something?”
“No. We’ll have plenty of food.”
As we get into the car, I ask, “You were married to Callie Brassard?”
He nods.
“Mind if I ask what happened to her?” I know she died, but Persy never said how.
“She was in an accident.”
“It sucks, doesn’t it? If someone dies of a long-term illness, you can prepare. Not that you’ll ever be ready. When it’s an unexpected accident…”
I’m unsure of how to finish the sentence. Jarring, traumatic, all of the above, and more?
He turns to look at me briefly. “No ‘sorry,’ pitying look, or ‘it’s going to get better?’”
“It’s not going to get better,” I answer him. “It’s just going to be different. Everyone keeps telling me to move on, to find someone, to start living. They don’t understand that I am living. I don’t know what they expect from me. Even my child thinks I’m failing at
life, and maybe I am. So no, I won’t be giving you the usual: I’m sorry, it’ll get better with time. I hate when people do it to me.”
He smiles. “Thank you.”
“I envy you, though. You can talk to her family and celebrate her life. I don’t have anything from Pax. I lost the little I had of him in a fire. His family took charge of his social media accounts and blocked me from them. I can’t even go in and save the few pictures he posted of Matilda and him. She only got three weeks with her dad.”
I squeeze my eyes tightly, praying that the tears disappear. I don’t want to cry. I refuse to cry.
“I know a few people who can hack the account and retrieve the pictures for you.”
I open my left eye and glance at him. “That’s illegal.”
I could try to hack them too, but I refuse to do anything that would jeopardize my freedom and my child’s future.
Instead of arguing, he asks, “Where do you want to go?”
I look at the time and sigh. “I don’t know. I have some errands to run. My to-do list started with maiming my brother and ended with picking up Matilda, who is at Mom’s.”
“Is she still living in Silver Lake?”
“Yeah. She’s trying to convince me to move there. I might do it when I graduate, and only if I find a job I can do remotely that pays well.”
“What are you studying?”
“Programming and computer science. I have a degree in graphic design already. I want to create educational video games for children. That’s going to be my side gig, though. I have to do something that will bring in enough money to support my family.”
“That’s a cool goal. I bet you can start a company. These days, parents are looking for the ultimate gadget that’s going to help their children thrive.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if that’ll happen. It’s going to take me at least a few more years before I graduate.”
“What if I offer you a job—”
“I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t need anyone to solve my life.”
I have the feeling he appeared to save me, but I don’t need saving. I could use a friend. Though, I doubt he’d be interested in hanging with a single mom who only has time for her daughter and work.
“How about some babysitting so you can take a long bath with a glass of wine?”
I eye him suspiciously. “How do you know about it? Did Persy air our conversation without my permission?”
“Nope. Persy would never do that. She wouldn’t break the confidence of a listener or ruin her show.”
“Then how do you know?”
After a long silence, he finally speaks, “I was at her house during the call.”
“Why?”
“I want to help you.”
“You always want to help others. I’m not a charity case.”
“I don’t think you’re one. It’s just…”
“You always do this, try to save humanity. Why?”
“I don’t know why I did it before. Now…Teddy thinks this is my penance after Callie died.”
“Is it?”
“From one widower to another, she’s not right, but she’s not wrong. The days before her death…we were fighting a lot.”
He takes a long mouthful of air and releases a shaky breath. His gaze focuses on the road, but his mind is somewhere else. Probably remembering the day of the accident.
I pat his left arm. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“We had a big fight before the accident. I don’t know if it’s penance, but helping others gives me a purpose. I feel less lonely”—he presses his lips together so tightly I can almost hear his teeth grind—“I feel less guilty.”
My heart shrinks as I hear the sadness in his voice. This guy was the life of the party. He loved to help people. He did it because he liked to see others happy, not because he felt empty. I hurt for this man, and I miss the boy who would do anything for the people around him.
“Can I take you to lunch?”
“Okay, but tomorrow I’m not going to that brunch. You’ll have to find an excuse.”
I shouldn’t agree to have lunch with him. He feels familiar and comfortable. I don’t want to get used to him. He’s going to disappear the same way he did twelve years ago. I don’t need the aggravation.
Chapter Thirteen
Zach
pThree days wasn’t enough to come up with a good plan.
I decided to wing it. Fuck, that sounds so amateur. I stopped winging things after Callie died. These days, I do everything based on predictability.
When I drove toward Aiden’s house, I thought we could catch up, and his sister would come up in conversation. I never expected to see Autumn.
I wasn’t ready for grown-up—gorgeous, sexy, and sassy—Autumn.
What happened to Wick’s little sister?
Don’t get me wrong, she’s always been pretty, but she was a kid. Now…my heart stuttered when I laid eyes on her, and my dick stirred when I caught her in midair before she fell to the ground.
The cute, nerdy teen with pink glasses who liked to annoy her big brother is gone. I’d like to say that I’m not attracted to this version of Autumn. In another life, I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.
Well, I plan to ask for her number but not because I’m going to invite her to dinner and then a nightcap. I just want to help her.
I try not to think that she’s fucking hot. Do I find her weird hairdo cute? Probably. Her brunette hair parts down the middle and pulls back into a couple of braids. It’s kind of adorable. She wears a T-shirt that reads I’m not your average mama. Her loose jeans leave a lot to the imagination, and I liked that. It’s fresh and different from the typical skinny jeans and tight shirt.
I want to unravel her inch by inch.
Thinking about her outfit isn’t helping me either.
To say that she left me off-balance and breathless is an understatement. I can’t seem to find my equilibrium or my sanity.
I’m so fucking off-balance that I told her I knew about Matilda and the phone calls. I even drove her to Nyx’s house because I wanted to spend more time with her. If she let me, I’d lend her a hand or offer my services to babysit her daughter. She didn’t seem to appreciate my offer, though.
The unexpected yet best part of her is that she understands me like no one has understood me since Callie died. She gets how I feel and how much I loathe when people tell me to move on.
Do I want to take her to brunch tomorrow? Yes. But only because I want to spend a lot more time with her. At least she agreed to grab a bite with me.
It’s lunchtime, and instead of choosing some upscale restaurant, I drive us to Café Fusion. There’s a branch close to Aiden’s house. I park in the back, and for the second time, she opens the car door before I’m able to do it for her. It’s for the best. This isn’t a date, and I shouldn’t get any ideas about being more than just friends.
We walk around to the front of the building, and when I open the door, Autumn grins. “Matilda loves this place.”
“She sounds old enough to be drinking espresso. I bet her favorite is the double latte with three shots and a pump of dark chocolate syrup,” I joke.
“A shot of espresso will give her enough energy to run a marathon. I might never let her touch any type of caffeine,” she says, almost scared.
Because I like to know more about the customers, I ask, “What does she love from this place?”
“Frosty-fruity-shakes,” she says.
“Those aren’t on our menu.”
“Sure they are. They call them fruit coolers on the menu. I should ask to speak to the manager or send a letter to the owner asking to fix it immediately,” she jokes.
“It might go into the ridiculous request folder, but you can try.”
She glances at me and smirks. “If my child ever sends a suggestion, these people should expect a revolution. She just did that at school last week.”
“She sounds more and mo
re like a mini-you.”
“I’d never do something like that.” Her innocent smile almost convinces me that she’d never do such a thing.
If I hadn’t been at her house often or listened to Aiden complain about her, I’d believe her. “I still remember the time you went on a strike because your mom bought the wrong brand of milk. You were six, maybe seven?”
She covers her face with both hands. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
“A Reuben sandwich, kettle chips, and a mango and berry fruit cooler.”
I nod, walk around the counter, and type in her order. Then add mine.
“Hey boss, I thought you were taking the day off.” Brandt, the manager, steps out of the kitchen.
“This is my friend Autumn. If you ever see her, her order is on the house.”
Autumn’s eyes grow wide. “You own this place?”
“Yep.”
“So, you’re going to send my email to the ridiculous inbox, huh?”
“Not after the threat of sending your child. The last thing we need is a six-year-old marching outside demanding her right to name my products frosty-fruity-shakes.”
We both laugh. I tilt my head toward the back. “Why don’t we eat in my office?”
“I’m getting the VIP treatment,” she says excitedly.
I ask Brandt to bring the food to my office. Once I close the door behind us, Autumn speaks, “This answers the question about what you do for a living, huh.”
I nod. “Why don’t we take a seat? We can use my desk as a table.”
She almost runs to my leather chair and makes an entire production of taking a seat. Have I mentioned she’s adorable?
“Is this a franchise, or do you own all the cafés in the country?”
“I own them. I don’t plan on creating a franchise.”
“You own a chain of coffee shops.” She sounds surprised, even shocked. “I don’t see it, but it makes sense.”
I can’t understand her reaction or comment, so I ask, “What does that mean?”
“You like to entertain and make sure everyone around you is comfortable. This is the best place to do it. At the same time, I imagined you owning a company like Kingston or Burke.”
Until Next Time Page 8