Kade, p.21
Kade, page 21
“Keep the kidney. I’ll settle for love slave.” His arms come around me, his body shielding me from another gust of wind. “Don’t thank me. Just win this thing and put it behind us.”
Us. Hearing him lump our names together as one unit fills my heart with unnerving hope. “I’m going to try my best.” I stand on my toes and press a kiss to his lips. “I’ll call you later.”
The next few hours are spent immersed in work, organizing the latest exhibit at the gallery. I work through lunch, and before I know it, it’s time to go.
My stomach is in knots as I hail a cab to the Times Square office. The Law Offices of Berghammer and Stein reside at the top of an enormous professional building. The glass-encased structure gleams as it stretches high into the sky. I feel small inside the law firm’s tremendous reception area. The desk extends the length of the room. Beyond it, in large bold letters, reads the names of the partners. On the opposite wall is a serene tropical fish tank recessed inside. My gaze darts around the room, drinking it all in. The monthly rent for an office like this probably equals what I earn in a year.
The receptionist looks about my age, but her Chanel dress and flawless makeup put her on a different level than me. “Ainsley Daniels. I have an appointment with Mr. Stein.”
She picks up the phone to alert the office of my presence. “Just one moment. Please have a seat.”
I sit on the couch near the tank, feeling insecure in my Liz Claiborne suit. My purse rests on my lap clutched in my hand as I watch the neon-colored fish swim through the water without a care in the world. They float past each other, small fish in a big space, not bothering to acknowledge the other’s presence. It’s a metaphor for my life. Even with so many people around me, I still feel so utterly alone.
“Ms. Daniels?” The same pleasant voice from the call this morning interrupts my thoughts. “Mr. Stein will see you now. Follow me.” She’s tall and thin. Her black hair falls into an elegant bob at her shoulders, and her red lipstick is an exact match to her shirt. The lilt in her voice tells me she’s not native to the northeast, but from somewhere down south. It’s not a slow Georgia drawl like Banger, more of creole twang.
She leads me into the wood-paneled office. It’s masculine and modern. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase a spectacular view of the busy city below. “Right this way.”
Maxwell Stein’s office is as clean and streamlined as the rest of the place. The rich mahogany desk sits in front of the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the area out front and sitting on a leather chair next to it is Kade. Warmness spreads throughout my chest. I didn’t realize how much I wanted him here until I saw him waiting for me.
“Ms. Daniels, come in.” Maxwell Stein stands from behind his desk and motions to the empty chair beside Kade. He waits for me to sit then smooths his pink tie down and returns to his seat. “I’ve been on the phone with Greg Warner, the attorney representing Robert Daniels in the custody case involving the minor Shay Lee Daniels.” He opens the manila folder in front of him and peruses the notes inside. “Mr. Daniels is suing you for full custody on the grounds of unfit parenting.” A deep crease forms on his forehead as his dark, bushy brows pinch together. He’s silent for a moment as he reads the file in front of him. “Ms. Daniels, I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want them answered honestly.”
He threads his fingers together on top of the large desk. “Are you an alcoholic?”
“No.”
“Are you a drug addict?”
“No.”
“Are you prostituting the streets at night for money?”
An uneasy bubble of nervous laughter escapes my throat. Is this guy for real? “Of course not.”
He untangles his fingers and runs them down his goateed face. “These questions are as ridiculous as the case itself, Ms. Daniels. Unfit parenting is extremely difficult to prove unless there are glaring circumstances that can back it up.” He waves his hands over the open file on his desk. “All I’m really seeing here is a domestic issue.”
I close my eyes and exhale. His words relieve the tension I’ve been holding in my shoulders since I first read the letter last night. Kade smiles and gives my hand a squeeze, reminding me that I don’t have to face this alone.
“Now, that being said, there does seem to be a small issue between Mr. Daniels and Mr. Black.”
Kade drops my hand and bolts up in his seat, his fingers creating divots on the smooth leather arms. “What issue?”
“According to the notes from Mr. Warner, you and Mr. Daniels engaged in a physical altercation in July of last year. In addition, you allegedly came to his place of business and threatened him just this morning.”
“That’s horseshit!”
Maxwell lifts his hand to silence Kade’s outburst. “No charges have been filed, nor are there any witnesses to back up his claims, so at this point, it’s all hearsay. But I do need to remind you that your erratic behavior has been making headlines for years. A quick Google search uncovered a recent arrest for assault just last summer.” He lifts his hands to make quotes with his fingers. “Your ‘bad boy’ reputation doesn’t bode well for you.”
Stricken with the urge to vomit, my hand springs to my mouth. “His arrest last summer was because of me,” I whisper.
Memories of that night weigh on my chest to this very day. Initially, Kade’s behavior seemed romantic and endearing, but the settling of the dust added a sense of clarity to my otherwise fear-induced mind. Of the multitude of ways he could have handled that situation, fighting and getting arrested hung somewhere close to the bottom.
To say he was a pit bull was an understatement. He defended me like a bear protects her baby cub. Brutal and bloodthirsty. It wasn’t enough to simply stop the attack; he had to incapacitate the man within an inch of his life. The thing is, those savage hands that battered a person unconscious are the same ones that are so tender with me and so gentle with my daughter. That maniac in the media isn’t him.
Kade is sitting on the edge of his seat now, leaning so far over he’s hovering above Maxwell’s desk. “My actions in that scenario were warranted. I will do whatever it takes to protect them.”
“Well, in the meantime, maybe it’s best if the two of you maintain some distance from each other. At least in public,” Maxwell continues. “And don’t worry, Ms. Daniels. I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure Shay stays where she belongs.”
Chapter 32
Kade
“A pretty face and a set of vocal cords? He really said that?” Ainsley sits huddled in the booth, warming her hands with her mug as if she’s freezing in spite of the broiling heat blowing in the overcrowded diner. I resist the urge to go to her side, to wrap my arm around her and hold her until the tension in her back eases, and her shoulders drop from her ears.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Told me without them I’d be a construction worker.” I laugh even though the situation is anything but funny. “Am I supposed to find that insulting? I don’t get it.” I pick up the tiny white cups of creamer and pour them into my coffee one by one while rehashing the whole conversation with Bob down to the very last detail, leaving out the part where he called her a starving artist. That shit is just downright mean. The spoon clangs against the ceramic cup as the color swirls from brown to beige.
“I appreciate you trying, but I could have told you that conversation would have gotten you nowhere. Once Bob digs his heels in, that’s it. End of story.” She rests her cheek in her hand and leans on the table. The lawyer assured us that everything is going to be fine, but she still looks unconvinced.
I hook my finger into the question mark shaped handle and lift the cup to my lips. “Yeah, well, figured it was worth a shot.” Putting the mug down, I take her hand. “I’m sorry, A. My presence has done nothing but cause issues for you since day one.”
I have a bad temper and a worse way of dealing with it. My brawl at the Pizza Castle threw an unwanted spotlight on her overnight. Never stopping to consider the consequences of my actions, I threw a violent tantrum like I always do. I did the same thing with Bob, and I would have gladly pummeled the boyfriend, as well, if given the opportunity.
She shrugs and her mouth turns down in a sad pout. Seeing how badly she’s hurting makes me want to go to Bob’s house and throttle the shit out of him. I remind myself for the hundredth time that fighting isn’t the answer. Maybe if I used my words more and my fists less, we wouldn’t be in this nightmare to begin with.
I sigh. It’s insane how things can go from great to crap in the blink of an eye. A few days ago, I was on top of the world, but now, I feel like the weight of it is crushing me.
“So tell me more about this event you’re putting together at work,” I say, changing the subject on purpose. She’s been excited about the charity fundraiser. Hopefully, talking about something she likes can distract her from focusing on Dr. Douchebag for a little while.
“The Indie Artist Exhibit. The gallery does it every year. We give a bunch of local artists the opportunity to showcase their work, and in exchange, the proceeds from anything that sells go to charity.”
Our waitress comes by and refills Ainsley’s empty coffee cup. Buttons with the chubby smiling faces of her grandkids litter her uniform, and her graying hair frays around her face. She drops a handful of creamer cups on the table with a tight-lipped smile before moving on to her next round of customers. “We have a ton of artists signed up so far. It’s going to be a great turnout.”
“That sounds like a pretty cool event. When is it?”
“The day after Thanksgiving.” Ainsley rips open a little blue packet of sweetener and flicks its contents into her cup with her middle finger. She doesn’t elaborate, just twirls her spoon around the cup and watches the mini spiral spin in circles.
The air is thick with pensiveness. We sit in uncomfortable silence for what feels like an eternity but is probably only about five minutes before she finally says what I knew was coming. “This isn’t going to work, Kade.” Her gaze remains fixed on her cup, avoiding eye contact as she rips the heart from my chest while it’s still beating.
“We can still see each other. We’ll just have to do it on the down low like Max suggested.”
“No. We can’t see each other anymore. Period.”
She’s freaking out again. “Don’t do this. We’re going to fight him, and we’re going to win.” The desperate sound of my own voice makes my skin crawl. I can’t believe what a pussy I’ve turned into. The label is right. I have gone soft.
Her eyes snap up to mine. “There is no we Kade. This is my fight, for my daughter. You have your own glamorous life in Los Angeles, but mine is here.” The ceramic mugs clatter in their saucers as her hands slam down on the table. “Shay is my life, and whatever this is between us is not worth the risk of losing her.”
Pieces of my heart flake off in tiny shards around the gaping wound her spiteful words create within me. We’re back in the same place we were a year and a half ago. I’m so sick of her using Shay as an excuse to push me away. This isn’t about Shay; it’s about her fear of letting anyone inside, and I’m done begging her to be with me. I’m Kade fucking Black. I could find at least a dozen women in this very diner who would kill to have a piece of me. “At least you have the balls to say it to my face this time. Do I get another fuck for the road too?”
Her eyes narrow into brown slits. “You really are a cocky asshole.” She jabs her arm in the strap of her purse and stands from the table. “Go to hell.”
She turns on her heel and stomps away, taking the best parts of me with her. I watch her disappear from sight, regretting every word and every arrogant feeling I had over the course of the last ten minutes. My asinine remark hangs in the atmosphere above the table, and I wish that I could grab it with my hands and take it back. Shay may be her life, but she is mine, and I can’t let this be the end of us.
Chapter 33
Ainsley
Fat teardrops roll relentlessly down my cheeks as I try to think of the best way to break my seven-year-old daughter’s heart. I hate Bob for what he’s doing, and I hate myself for blindly trusting him. Shay deserves so much better than this.
The shrill alarm rings out on my phone, alerting me that Shay will be here any minute. I wash my face and run outside to greet her. The big yellow bus screeches to a stop, and my heart begins to pound. The warm afternoon sun beats down on the sidewalk. The rhinestones on Shay’s shirt blind me as she skips off the bus.
Once inside, I sit her down at the table with a plate of cookies. My hands shake so badly as I pour the milk that I’m worried I’ll spill it everywhere. I set the glass down, take the seat next to her, and try to think of a way to explain it in the simplest terms. We agreed to do this together but, as usual, Bob had better things to do.
“Shay. Mommy has something to talk to you about.” She munches on her cookies and listens as I speak. “Daddy and Cami aren’t going to be here at the house anymore. They are going to a new house together, and you’ll visit and see them, but your home is going to be here with me.” I reach across the table and take her little hand in mine. “Do you understand, sweetie? Are you okay?”
I expected questions and crying, but none of that occurs. Instead, her answer is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. “It’s okay, Mommy. At least we still have each other.”
***
“Mommy, can we have pizza tonight?” I look over at my cute little Shay and see my own giant brown eyes staring back at me. Usually, Bob’s traits come through fast and strong, overpowering any sign of me that might be hiding inside, but every so often, she makes a face that reminds me so much of myself it’s scary.
“Sure, sweetie. That’s a great idea.” I open the drawer and pull out the stack of takeout menus I keep hidden inside. “Why don’t you pick a movie for us while I call it in?”
She runs off into the family room as I reach for the phone. Maxwell has told me to remain positive, so I am. I’m trying to, anyway. He called Bob’s lawyer and arranged it so that Bob is no longer granted access to this house without my permission. From now on, when he drops off Shay, he is to wait in the car and allow her to come up to the house alone. This isn’t his weekend, so we’ll have to wait and see how that works out.
After ordering our food, I go off to the family room to find her. “Did you find something good to watch?”
“Yep! Spiderman is coming on in thirty minutes!” Shay is a big girl now, but ever since she was a toddler, she’s been obsessed with superheroes. All superheroes—Batman, Super Girl, X-Men, The Avengers. Even the bad guys like The Violator and Lex Luther. While all her little friends played with baby dolls and Barbies, Shay would tie a tablecloth to her back and pretend to rescue them from certain doom. It drove Bob nuts, but I love that she marches to the beat of her own drum.
She’s always been different from kids her age. More mature. It never occurred to me to question it, but sometimes, I wonder if Bob made her that way. He lacks the patience it takes to deal with a child, always snapping at her for doing normal kid things like talking loud in the house or leaving her toys out. It wasn’t enough that we enrolled her in dance at three-years-old; she had to be the best. Only after Bob moved out did she admit she hated it. For four years, she took dance classes with the sole purpose of making her father happy. It’s hard to fit into someone’s perfect mold. I speak from experience.
Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, I plop into the seat next to her. She pulls a corner over her short legs and curls them under her, a mirror image of my preferred sitting position.
Shay may have been graced with Bob’s face and hair, but her tiny frame is all me. She’s little. There was a time when her small stature worried the hell out of me, but the doctor assured me it’s just the way she is. Smaller than everyone, but with a larger than life personality that more than makes up for it. I say she’s nine going on nineteen, and it’s the absolute truth. Sometimes, she seems so grown up that I forget how young she really is.
I surf the channels looking for something to watch for the next half hour while Shay cuddles up next to me. “Am I going to live with Daddy and Cami?”
A shot hits me straight through the heart, and a slow burn radiates throughout my chest. I’ve never discussed the case in front of her. She must have heard something at Bob’s house. Goddamn him and his big mouth.
“Is that what you want?” I suck in a deep breath, preparing myself for the blow of her saying yes. The fear that she’d be happier there than here is one that I’ve always held onto. She and Cami have always been so close. It’s only a matter of time before she decides she likes her better than she likes me.
“I want to stay here. Daddy isn’t really around much, and Cami will be too busy with the babies to play with me. Besides, they fight a lot.”
The breath I’d been holding trickles out as I tuck her under my arm. “Don’t worry. You’re staying right here with me.” I give her a squeeze, hiding the wetness in my eyes. Potentially lying to my daughter causes a piece of me to feel like it’s dying inside. I’ve never been anything but honest with her, but this trial is not her cross to bear. She doesn’t deserve to be saddled with my worries.
My phone chimes on the couch next to me. Kade’s face flashes on the screen then disappears in an instant. “You can invite Kade over if you want. I don’t mind.”
I look over at my daughter with surprise. “Why would I do that?”
Shay shrugs her petite shoulders. “He’s nice, and you’re always happy when he’s around.”
Her candor shocks me, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take it. “Am I usually grumpy?” I laugh, trying to make it seem like a joke. I never really considered myself an unhappy person, but it worries me that I’m giving off that vibe to my impressionable daughter.
