I only liked it back then because he was intent on me drinking it one chilly Christmas Eve.
His grandmother had lived on the brand of tea that Gage bought when he went to the grocery store to get the fixings for an extravagant holiday dinner for us.
He came back with the tea, a loaf of day-old bread, and a can of chicken noodle soup.
His wallet was on the kitchen counter, so some coins and a few dollar bills in the pocket of his torn jeans were the only currency he had to pay for our festive feast.
It was the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.
“I don’t need anything to drink,” I whisper as I follow him into his home.
His home.
The only home Gage had before we met was a bedroom on the second floor of his parents’ lavish estate in the Hollywood Hills.
“I’ll get you a blanket.” He heads down a hallway. The sweater on his back is yanked over his head just as he disappears into a room.
I glance around, taking in the space that he lives in.
It’s nothing like the apartment we shared in California. This one has an open living room and kitchen with white walls. The floors are a light hardwood with mismatched throw rugs under the sofa and two leather chairs. A rectangular cherry wood coffee table is far enough from the sofa that Gage can rest his feet on it when he’s watching TV, just as he always did back when I’d cuddle up next to him and stare at the screen.
I look to the right where a square dining room table sits near a window that faces the neighboring building.
The long black curtains on the window are pushed to the side, affording me a perfect view of the rain hitting the glass.
I scrub my hand over my forehead. My hair is plastered to my head. My makeup must be a mess on my face, and yet I don’t care.
I’m in shock.
I’m sure my heart stopped beating outside of Tin Anchor when Gage told me that he has a daughter.
I scan the room for a picture of her, but I come up empty.
There’s no artwork or personal items. There’s nothing in here that captures who Gage is except for the light blue knitted blanket hanging over the arm of the black leather sofa.
I walk over to it, studying the wool that has now loosened. I worked on it for weeks before I gave it to him on that Christmas Eve when we ate soup and drank tea and made love in our bed.
It was our last holiday together.
The pad of his bare feet on the floor draws my gaze back to the hallway.
He’s dressed in a black T-shirt and the same jeans he had on earlier. His shoes and socks are gone. A white fluffy blanket is in his hands.
“I have clothes you can change into,” he offers as he shoves the blanket at me. “I put a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt in the bathroom for you. I have a dryer. I can dry your skirt and blouse.”
I look down at my wet clothes and the denim jacket that’s still draped over me. I place the blanket on the sofa so I can slide the jacket off.
The sight of my bra under my blouse flushes my cheeks in embarrassment.
Gage has seen me naked, laid bare and wanting. He’s aware of the freckle below my right breast and the mole that sits just above my hipbone. He used to trace a fingertip over the scar on my left knee. It’s a constant reminder of the surgery I had after a failed landing during a gymnastics class when I was fifteen.
His tender touch always made me feel less self-conscious about it.
I toss the jacket at him and pick up the blanket, wrapping it around me to shield my lingerie from his gaze.
“This is fine,” I say, my voice still quaking. “I can’t stay long.”
I shouldn’t be here at all.
That’s what I should be saying to him, but I let him bring me here because I was in a daze. I was lost the moment he told me that he has a child.
That was something I told him I’d never give him.
Someone else did.
“I’ll make some coffee,” he says, draping the jacket over the back of a chair. He takes a step toward the kitchen before I stop him with a question.
“How old is she?” Tears form in the corners of my eyes.
I tried to convince myself on the taxi ride here that she wasn’t conceived when we were together. If he cheated on me and the result is a beautiful little girl, how can I feel rage at that?
How can I not?
“Nine,” he answers with a soft smile. “My little angel is nine-years-old.”
Chapter 18
Gage
I could see the curiosity in her tear-filled eyes before she asked the question. I knew that as soon as Katie found out about my daughter, that she’d wonder if I cheated on her.
If she only knew that my heart, my soul and yes, my body has only ever belonged to her.
I watch as she taps her thumb against each of the fingers on her right hand. She’s silently counting out the years, trying to determine how old I was when Kristin was born.
Scratching the side of my nose, I fill in the blanks. “When I met Kristin she was four. She was born a few days after my twentieth birthday.”
“Four?” she questions back with a genuine look of surprise on her face. “You didn’t know about her before then?”
“Not until the day I…”
My voice drifts because I should say, “not until the day I fucking broke your heart.”
“Until the day you left,” she says softly. “You said earlier that you found out that morning. How?”
“Her mother called me.”
Katie’s eyes narrow. “Her mother? Who is her mother?”
I know the name I’m about to say is going to sting Katie. I only had one semi-serious girlfriend before we met.
Madison Velmont was a constant in my life when I was growing up. Her mom took care of the cleaning and cooking needs of my family. She was a single woman trying to support a daughter on her own.
They lived in an apartment in downtown Los Angeles but spent every day at my parents’ estate until seven p.m. when they’d catch a bus that would take them home.
When it came time for Madison’s prom, my mom insisted that I take her.
I didn’t complain. She was a cute brunette who was always flirting with me.
A year after I was accepted into UCLA, Madison got a full academic scholarship to Vanderbilt University.
She wanted me to make the move to Nashville with her. I refused. She said she loved me. I told her the feeling wasn’t mutual and she took off without another word.
Our paths didn’t cross again until she made a trip back to California to settle her mother’s modest estate.
That’s when she called me and dropped the bombshell that eight months after we broke up, Kristin was born.
“Is it Madison?” Katie blurts out. “Madison is her mom, isn’t she?”
Katie was a virgin when we met. I wasn’t by a long shot. Madison wasn’t the only lover I had, but she was the one my parents mentioned one night when they had too much wine over dinner.
“I always thought you’d end up with Madison,” my dad slurred.
“It’s a shame you didn’t,” my mom added after her goddamn fiftieth sip of the expensive Chardonnay they dug out of their wine cellar to toast to my engagement to Katie.
I’ll never forget the look on my fiancée’s face or the tears that streamed down her cheeks on our ride home.
I scolded my parents for that. I threatened to cut them from my life if they ever uttered Madison’s name again.
They didn’t until the day I told them that they were grandparents.
“Yes, Madison is Kristin’s mother,” I answer.
Silence stretches between us as she studies my face. “You left me to be with her…with them. You went to be with them, didn’t you?”
I did, and I didn’t.
I consider my next words carefully. “I couldn’t be around anyone when I first found out, so I got on my dad’s sailboat the day after I talked to you. I was gone for a week… maybe t
en days. When I got back, I took a trip to Nashville to meet Kristin.”
I don’t mention that my first stop after I hit dry land was the apartment we shared, but Katie wasn’t there.
She broke the lease and cleared her stuff out. I picked up what was left from the landlord and stored it at my parents’ house until I settled into my own place in Nashville. I unpacked it then. I’ve kept those items close to me ever since.
A shaky breath leaves her. “Did you marry Madison?”
My reply is quick and clear. “No.”
The only reaction from her is a blink of her eyes.
“I went to Nashville to meet my daughter,” I go on, “I stayed because I had to.”
I pat the middle of my chest so she understands that love kept me in Nashville. The love I felt for my daughter the moment I met her only grew as time passed.
“So, Madison, Kristin, and you all live here now?” She gazes down the hallway. “Will they be back soon? I don’t want to be here when they come back.”
“I’ve never lived with Madison,” I stress each word. “I lived in the same apartment building as her and Kristin in Nashville, but we were never together, Katie.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “I just assumed that you moved in with them.”
“No,” I shake my head. “We co-parented until…”
“Until what?” She takes a step closer, the blanket around her shoulders sliding down.
“Madison got married a year-and-a-half ago.” My hands fist at my sides. “Her husband landed a job in London. They made the move eight months ago.”
“London as in across the ocean?” She questions with narrowed eyes. “How does that work? Does Kristin come here for vacations or something?”
“Something,” I mutter.
It’s too fucked up to get into right now. The entire situation is a goddamn nightmare that I don’t think I’ll ever wake up from.
Her gaze drops to the floor. “This is a lot to take in.”
She doesn’t even know the half of it yet. My life since I left her has been out of control. I haven’t felt centered until this minute.
Katie always made me feel that everything would be all right.
“I’m going to go now.” She tugs her phone out of the pocket of her skirt.
Her fingers fly over the screen. She hesitates before she types again. It’s obvious that she’s exchanging messages with someone. I hope to hell it’s not Preston.
“Can we talk again soon?” I ask because I need to tell her more. I want to explain everything to her.
“Maybe.” She sighs. “My friend is sending a car for me so I should get downstairs.”
“Your friend?”
She nods but doesn’t offer anything else.
A mental image of her finding comfort in Preston’s arms and his bed flashes before me. I push it aside because my petty jealousy doesn’t compare to what she’s feeling.
“I’ll walk you down,” I offer.
“No.” Her hand darts in the air to stop me. “I can find my own way out.”
I take a step toward her, but it only results in a step backward for her.
“Thank you, Katie,” I say hoarsely. “Thank you for coming and for listening.”
The only response from her is a brisk nod before she’s out my apartment door.
Chapter 19
Kate
“Are you sure this isn’t a bother?” I ask him as I stare at his profile.
Sebastian Wolf turns to look at me, his blue eyes scanning my face. “I just finished a training exercise with a handful of rookies. I was on my way to headquarters to drop off the car when Matilda called and said you were in trouble.”
I’m grateful that Tilly called him.
He shifts his gaze back to the road as he goes on, “I almost came racing down here with my gun drawn.”
“When Tilly said she was sending a car, I had no idea it was a police car.” I manage a soft laugh. “I left my store without my purse.”
“How did you get to Greenwich Village?” He stops the sedan at a red light.
“When I got to the subway I realized I didn’t have my MetroCard, or my wallet, or my keys.” I rest my head against the headrest.
“Are you a jumper?” He laughs. “Tell me you didn’t jump the turnstile and ride for free.”
“In this skirt?” I smooth my hands over my lap.
“You busked for change? I’ve heard you sing at karaoke, Kate. It must have taken hours for you to make fare with that voice.”
I laugh at his repeated jokes. I know he’s trying to cheer me up. The text message I sent to Tilly was ominous.
I told her I was falling apart and needed her.
She replied that I had to get in a taxi and head out to her house in Queens.
That’s when I responded that I didn’t have my wallet or my keys.
“I gave Natalie money to get us coffee this afternoon. When she came back to the store, I shoved the change in my pocket. It was just enough.”
“It’s your lucky day.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t say that.”
My phone chimes. I glance down at the text message from Natalie in response to the one I just sent to her asking if I can stop by her apartment to pick up her set of keys to the boutique so I can get my things.
Natalie: I’m still at work. I’m getting a head start on inventory.
“Good news?” he asks as he drives through an intersection.
“Very good news.” I breathe a small sigh of relief. At least something is falling into place for me tonight. “Can you take me to my store?”
“On one condition.” He flicks on the right turn signal.
“What’s that?”
“Let Matilda take care of you tonight.” He flashes me a smile. “My wife is worried about you. I don’t know what you’re dealing with, Kate, but we’re both here for you. Have dinner with us. I’ll do the cooking.”
“You two are the best.”
“Matilda is the best.” He sighs. “I have no idea what I did in my past life to deserve that woman.”
I stare out the window as we drive through the city. He doesn’t push for more conversation. Sebastian knows instinctively when to give someone time with his or her thoughts.
Once he pulls up to the boutique, I unbuckle my seatbelt. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“This is a no parking zone so make it quick.” He chuckles.
I step out of the car and glance down at the blue NYPD logo on the side. “I think you’ll be all right.”
***
“Dinner was delicious, Sebastian.” I place my linen napkin on the table next to my empty plate.
There are always two things I can count on when I come to Tilly and Sebastian’s home for dinner. Good food is never in shortage and there are plenty of hugs.
Sebastian got a big one when we stepped in the door after taking a taxi from Manhattan to Queens. After we dropped off the police car, Sebastian grabbed an umbrella from his office and we set out toward the subway stop that is nearest police headquarters.
He spotted a taxi and since the rain had picked up again, he told me the ride was his treat. It didn’t take long until the driver was parked in front of the house in Queens where Tilly, Sebastian and their dog, Lunar, live.
Lunar lunged at us when Sebastian unlocked the door. Tilly ran to her husband, launching herself in his arms and diving her fingers into his black hair.
After they kissed and whispered something to each other, she pulled me into a tight embrace.
It was the first time I felt truly comfortable in hours.
“I’m going to take Lunar for a walk.” Sebastian pushes back from the table. “If you need anything, I’ll have my phone with me.”
He leans down to kiss Tilly softly on the lips.
I stare at her face as she watches him walk to the front door before he pushes it open after grabbing Lunar’s leash and the umbrella he brought home from his office.
&nb
sp; The slam of the door behind him breaks the spell she’s under. She turns to look at me.
“I love him a little more each day,” she confesses. “He’s worried about you, Kate. I am too.”
I know that it’s because of the text messages I sent her earlier.
I told her that my ex-fiancé had dropped a bombshell on me and I needed her.
I wasn’t surprised that she leapt into action after I told her that I was stuck in Greenwich Village with only my cell phone.
“What happened?” she asks, tilting her head.
She’s wearing one of Sebastian’s T-shirts and a pair of denim overalls. Her face is freshly washed. She looks like she’s twenty-years-old, even though she’s only a year younger than me.
I take a sip of the water I’ve been drinking throughout dinner.
“Is it too hard to talk about?” Her hand inches across the table to cover mine. “We can talk about work or watch a movie. I’m going to paint the extra bedroom this weekend. If you want we can start on that tonight.”
Active hands quiet a busy mind.
My mom would say that to me daily after Gage left. Tilly follows that advice when she has too much to think about.
“You finally decided on a color?” I ask with a smile.
Ever since Tilly and Sebastian bought this house and moved in, they’ve spent a lot of their free time working to make it their own.
It’s quaint and charming with a brick fireplace in the corner of the living room and a kitchen with white cabinets and gray granite countertops. It’s a mesh of both of their styles.
“Yellow.” She sighs. “We picked it together. We’re going to make it into a guest bedroom for when my folks come to visit.”
“I’ll come back on the weekend to help you paint,” I offer.
Her blue eyes scan my face. “I’m worried about you.”
I squeeze her hand before I slide mine onto my lap. “He has a daughter.”
She sits back in her chair. “Gage has a daughter?”
“Kristin,” I say her name. “She’s nine. Kristin is nine.”
Compass Page 6