Blair

I cover my eyes, and wiggle around as I sit in the center of my living room floor. If there was anyone actually watching it might appear I’d lost my mind, but I don’t care. I love these times when it’s just me and Isabelle, enjoying one another. It’s the best.

My sweet little girl was born five months and two days ago. That by far was the greatest night of my life. Though it took many hours, and a whole lot of excruciating pain, to get her here, I can honestly say it was worth every single second. She was, is, and always will be my greatest accomplishment. Her sweet little face brings me both joy and sadness, because even though I try to ignore her resemblance to her father, it is impossible. From the very second they placed her against my chest and I looked at her puffy little cheeks and lips I knew there was no denying who had helped create her. She was a replica of her daddy and with each day that passes, she grows to look like him even more.

Whitney sees it, I know. I could read it on her face as she stood by my side in the hospital room. She reached out, placed her hand on my shoulder, and together we cried, a mixture of love and anguish.

I know deep down, even though I hate him for the lies he told, there will always be a special place in my heart for Jake. Because he gave me my daughter and that is a gift I can never forget. Isabelle is my world. She’s the reason I get up every single morning and push myself to be even better than I was the day before. She gives me motivation, she gives me purpose, she’s my angel.

“Boo,” I say, just as I pull my hands away from my eyes and lean in toward her. Immediately she starts to kick her chubby little legs and throw her hands out before her. A loud happy squeal falls from her lips that makes me laugh too.

“She could break glass with that squeal.” Whitney rounds the couch and flops down on the cushion, doing her best not to spill her coffee in the process. She smiles almost proudly as she stares down at Isabelle, and I can see the love she holds for my daughter. My little girl isn’t just my new start, she’s Whitney’s too. We are a trio, a team. She shares the duties of taking care of my baby, she babysits happily when I can’t be here, and when we are both called to work, Isabelle is with Aunt Marcy or Granny B, Whitney’s mother. Iz is surrounded by a full, loving family and I take peace in knowing that she has each and every one of them on her side.

There is a part of me, hidden deep down that I don’t talk about, that wishes more than anything things could’ve been different. Wishes that Jake was the man he pretended to be. I believe that guy could’ve been a great father to our daughter. In the short time we were together, he managed to make me feel that we could’ve been so happy. Then in the blink of an eye that image was destroyed.

“What time do you work today?” Whitney asks around a yawn just before lifting her coffee cup to her lips. She stayed out late last night with her guy and stumbled in just after five this morning. Serves her right for pulling an all-nighter when she knew she had a long day today.

“I go in at two.” I try to hide my smile as I lean in to kiss Isabelle’s cheek, making her laugh all over again. “You have a double today, right?”

“Yes,” she groans out and Isabelle twists her little body, tilting her head up in search of her favorite auntie. “If I didn’t blow half my paycheck just last night I would so call in sick today.”

“Did you really need a new outfit with matching shoes and purse to go on a date with a guy who couldn’t care less about what you’re wearing?” She probably only wore it for an hour, two at most before it was nothing more than a pile on his bedroom floor.

“I looked good, don’t even try to deny it.” I wouldn’t. “Speaking of dates, when are you seeing Shawn again?”

“I never said I was.” I choose to ignore the glare I know she is giving me and focus on Iz instead.

“It is okay for you to date and meet a good guy, you know?”

I nod, but keep my focus on my daughter’s little legs as I grab her feet and wiggle them. A wide smile covers her lips and spit bubbles form as drool pools at the corners of her mouth.

“It doesn’t mean she’s not your first priority.”

“I know,” I say, feeling my anxiety spike. A man is the last thing I want or need right now. I’m perfectly happy working at the restaurant during the day and spending every night with my little girl. She is the best company. Okay, fine, I am lonely, but not enough to put myself out there again and be forced to trust a man.

I don’t know if I will ever be ready for that.

Those days, that night, they all haunt me still. I wake up sometimes feeling as though I’m trapped and can’t escape, my breaths ragged as I look around my room to find I’m safe. Those are the secrets I carry, the times I hide from others because I don’t want anyone to know that I’m still unable to get over that time in my life. Letting a man in, letting my guard down, just doesn’t seem worth it.

“One day,” I say as I pick Isabelle up then stand. “But for now, all I need to be happy is this little butterball.” I blow raspberries on her cheek, which triggers her squealing once again. “She’s all the happy I need.”

Truth is, being with a man makes me feel as if I’m somehow taking time away from Isabelle. Time that I can have loving her and cuddling her, because in my opinion my little angel has already lost enough and she doesn’t even know it. Problem is I do, and I feel as if I’ve failed her with my inability to choose the right daddy for her.

“How is everything?” Mr. Henderson looks up from where he is focusing in front of him and offers me a nod. “Can I get you both a refill?”

“Thank you,” his wife offers me a gentle smile, “we would appreciate that. Thank you.”

I love my older customers. They are so much better than the younger college crowd. So appreciative and kind, grateful for every small gesture.

I pick up their cups and walk toward the station that is set up just to the left of the bar. Quickly I fill their glasses and move back toward my area just as Shawn and a couple of his friends sit in the table just beyond the Hendersons.

My heart instantly races but not from excitement. Shawn wants that second date. He was very persistent when he walked me to my door after he took me to dinner only a couple of weeks ago. He also lingered a little too long giving me that how about a kiss kind of look. Let me just clear things up right now—there was no kiss.

This is the first time I’ve seen him since that night. I’ve managed to avoid him and his phone calls. Now there is no way out and when he looks up, his eyes meet my own across the small space. A smile covers his lips, making me feel like an asshole for being so dismissive.

Shawn is a sweet guy, but he doesn’t do a thing for me. I like the bad boys, which I know is exactly where I’ve gone wrong in the past. But there is something so alluring about a confident guy with attitude and tattoos to match. It seems to always come back to bite me in the ass, but it is and has always been an unavoidable pull.

I take in a deep breath and slowly release it as I start to walk across the dining room in his direction. He watches me like an eager little boy and I fight against the urge to roll my eyes. If anything, the man needs to be told that wriggling around in his seat like a two-year-old does nothing for a woman, or for this woman at least.

“Hello, Blair.” He practically shouts the greeting before I even reach his table and I cringe from the way it echoes. A few other guests turn their heads in our direction and instantly my face feels heated. “How have you been?”

“Good,” I offer with a forced smile. “How about you?”

“Still waiting for that second date.”

Cue the nervous energy. My hands start to tremble as I do my best to hide them. I’ve never really been good about getting myself out of difficult situations. I freeze and in the end, I wind up agreeing to shit I’d normally avoid just to eliminate the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“I’ve been busy with work and Isabelle.”

“How about we make it an outing we can bring her on too?” The walls immediately go up. “I told you before, I like kids.”

In the distance I hear the bell chime indicating an order is up and I use it as my out. “I gotta get that.” I don’t wait for him to reply before I scurry off toward the kitchen, thankful for the interruption.

After a few minutes of calming myself I find Scarlett and agree to cover her next split shift if she will take Shawn’s table. I also give her the table of executives who tip better than any other guest in history at Spencer’s. There goes the new bedroom furniture I was trying to save up for.