Chapter Three
Maddox
Nick met me in between our houses, in a garden pathway that connected our spacious backyards. His tan skin was covered in fresh paint, and as he slipped on his sunglasses, he transferred some of that paint onto the lenses.
“Shit.” He cursed and wiped them off on the only white part of his shirt. “I have to stop doing that.”
“Why? You’re turning 500 dollar glasses into a work of art,” I said. Nick looked at his glasses in consideration.
“I could probably sell this for another two or three hundred on top of that,” he mentioned. “Good business idea.” I nodded.
“Seven days left,” I said with a sigh. “Alaskan Way is opening in seven days, and I still don’t have my entire team assembled.”
“Screw that,” Nick said. “Probably doesn’t help that Chelsea might try and force you into that kid’s life. Can you imagine? You? A dad?” I didn’t tell him that I’d been doing my best not imagining that.
“I gave her two million in alimony just to keep both her and that baby away from me. I haven’t heard from her since, but damn, it’s still worrying me. I can’t sleep, I’m barely eating. Jackie knows something’s wrong, but I haven’t told her. Damn it, Nick. How did this happen? I’ve never even wanted kids; I was always careful.”
“Let’s just get some lunch, get your mind off of it.” Nick offered. “You’re buying.”
We took my newest car, a blue Ferrari with a gray stripe and soft leather seats, and the wind in our faces and power beneath my hand as I switched gears made me feel better. Lunch was Italian, and the chef personally catered to our table; a big guy, Romano, who taught me when I was younger how to make pasta from scratch. I savored the meaty sauce of the spaghetti and popped meatball after meatball into my mouth as Nick took giant bites of strangozzi al tradeoff nero. His dish looked so good that I ordered a plate of it, and ate that as well.
We emptied a bottle of wine throughout lunch, and Nick looked appreciative as another bottle was brought to us.
“One day you’re going to own the restaurant world. You know that?” Nick said.
“With the way things have been going, I have to admit that you just might be right.” I smiled. “I just need the right people in the right places, and boom! Things will grow almost like a compounding interest scenario. Just have to grind.”
“Are you ever going to branch to overseas?” he asked, and I considered it.
“In a few years, yeah. Nothing’s tying me down here, so I might as well reach for global domination,” I said, and Nick cheered to that. Dessert was brought to us, two cannolis with a generous amount of chocolate shavings sprinkled on top of oozing cream. They were crunchy and light and fresh, and I personally thanked Romano as he checked in on us.
“I think this new painting is really starting to get the right attention,” he said, with a light in his eye. “It’s already creating some buzz around the community. There’s a rumor of an offer, and it’s only a rumor, but if it’s true, it might be enough to start paying you back for everything you’ve done. Not a year too soon.”
I waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, Nick. Just focus on your art.”
“I’m serious.” He held up a hand as our server poured our wine into two half-empty glasses. “You bought me my house, helped me more than anyone ever has in my life. I’m going to pay you back one day.”
I held the wine up to my mouth.
“I just need to know that you’re okay,” I said. “Just be happy working on your passion, and that’s enough.”
I knew it was difficult for Nick to take anything freely given to him. In his house growing up, a shitty one-story loft with four siblings, an absent father, and an abusive mother, gifts and presents were always with strings attached. And even those were rare. Nick’s never had anyone in his life, except me.
“Thanks, man,” Nick said and finished his drink. “Still, I’ll make it up to you.”
The check never arrived; instead, Romano came personally to say it was taken care of, from one chef to another, and I left a ridiculous tip that would have covered the check plus double. Nick thanked me for lunch, and I kindly reminded him that it was his idea in the first place.
“What can I say? I have great ideas.”
I dropped Nick off at his house and pulled into my front driveway, in front of the fountain, as I only had maybe 10 minutes to change clothes and head back to work. My phone chimed like crazy as I parked, and I unlocked it to find a million texts from Jackie confirming and reconfirming and then changing and then reconfirming the change and asking for a confirmation on the opening night’s menu. I sent her a quick reply saying I’m on my way back, and that I didn’t bother reading a single thing she sent.
I stayed focused on my phone as I walked up the steps to my front door, and almost tripped over a young girl, probably no more than 12, holding a good-sized baby wrapped in a pink blanket.
“Um, can I help you?” I gave her an odd look and stepped back, slipping my phone into my pocket. “This is private property.”
“Here, Mister.” She lifted a note that I took from her before she stood up. “Some lady paid me 20 bucks to wait on you. Took you long enough.”
“What?” I glanced down at the note.
I can’t do this.
She’s your problem now.
I just can’t do this; I never wanted a baby. I don’t want her.
-Chelsea
My stomach turned to stone and plummeted to my feet as bile hit the back of my throat. I wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t get my tongue to work anyway.
“Well, here. This is yours.” She handed me the baby and jogged down the street as I turned to watch her go.
What the fuck just happened?
I moved the baby back as she wiggled in my arms. The smile on her little face should have filled me with joy, but terror was all I experienced at the moment. She was beautiful though, breathtaking. She had a head full of blonde curls, and stunning blue eyes. It was the same baby from the photographs. My baby. Abby.