Buddy had forgotten how uncomfortable it was coming in his jeans, but he’d do it again in a split second he could see that Molly’s post-orgasmic glow again. And hell yeah, he wanted to do some etcetera-ing as soon as possible. He popped into a lobby bathroom and after a bit of cleaning up, he headed to the elevator.

Buddy fidgeted as he rode up the elevator in the high-security apartment building that Natalie was staying in. He felt completely out of place. No, he felt old. Everyone he’d seen, with the exception of the security guard, was about twenty-five years old. How the hell could someone so young afford to live in a place like this? Maybe they were all television people.

He could definitely see why Natalie enjoyed living here. It looked just like her, all gleaming and shiny, with lots of reflective surfaces. He snorted. Good for checking your lip gloss, not so much for introspection.

Now that she had a definite spot on this unscripted show, there was definitely a routine, but he didn’t really like it, and he was absolutely not going to sign that media waver, even if he had to get a lawyer. He wanted to talk to Natalie tonight, but that wouldn’t happen because of Lucy. Their daughter didn’t need to see what Buddy was sure was going to devolve into a nasty argument. Natalie was used to getting her way, was used to him giving in because he didn’t like the drama, but he sure as hell wasn’t giving in to this bullshit.

Buddy reached the door of Natalie’s apartment, and he swore he heard the sound of loud male laughter from inside the apartment. He knocked on the door and waited for thirty seconds before knocking again. He was just getting ready to knock again when a very tan, toothy man opened the door while reaching for his wallet.

“You’re not the delivery guy,” Toothy said, frowning. “Who the hell are you?”

“Daddy!” Lucy ran to Buddy, dodging Toothy. She had her shoes on and her mermaid bag on her shoulder. “I’m ready to go.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t you need to tell someone something?” he prompted.

She rolled her eyes, turned and said, “Bye, Nat!” and was through the door and halfway down the hall before Buddy caught up to her.

“Lucy, what is—” Buddy began, only to be interrupted by Natalie’s strident voice calling his name. He would have ignored her except for the look on Lucy’s face when hearing her mother’s voice.

“You were just going to take her without me knowing?” Natalie came out into the hall. “That is not what we agreed on.”

Buddy blinked, but before he could retort, Lucy said, “I said good-bye.”

“Lucy, that’s not a tone you should use with anyone, much less your mother,” Buddy reprimanded her gently, but then he shot a look at Natalie because there must have been something that provoked such a reaction from the little girl. Then he noticed the guy with the camera.

“What the actual fuck, Natalie? What—” The guy was still filming, actually moving closer, and Buddy stepped in front of Lucy, blocking her from the camera. “Turn the camera off.”

The videographer shrugged. “Just doing my job,” he said but didn’t remove the camera from his shoulder.

“Turn. The camera. Off.” Buddy was livid, but he silently counted to ten before saying anything else. “Natalie, we agreed that Lucy was not going to be on the show,” he said as calmly as he could.

“No, you said she wasn’t going to be on the show,” Natalie said. “I want her on the show. She had a lot of fun filming today, didn’t you, sweet pea?”

“No, and only Daddy calls me ‘sweet pea,’ not you.” Lucy was peeking out from behind him and hanging on to his belt loops. “Can we go, please?” she said in a tiny voice.

“Yes, let’s go, Lucy.” Buddy pried her off his belt loops and picked her up. “Natalie, we’re not done discussing this.”

“I can’t believe you turned her against me so quickly,” Natalie said as she followed Buddy down the hall.

“Not talking about this now, Nat.”

Relieved that she didn’t follow him, Buddy made it to the elevator and pressed the down button.

Lucy rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, sweet pea. We’ll get it all sorted out, okay?”

She nodded.

“You hungry?”

She nodded again.

“What would you like?”

“A big salad bar.”

“Okay, we’ll go to the big salad bar.”

*****

Buddy let Lucy push her salad around on her plate for a while, and then he figured they needed to talk about exactly what happened during her stay at Natalie’s.

“So what did you do today? More pancakes? More Legoland?”

“No, we don’t eat pancakes anymore, not since she’s on the show. She said she had to watch her figure.”

“So what do you do?”

Lucy shrugged a shoulder. “We go to this place that’s all quiet and has smoothies and stuff that taste kind of like dirt. I don’t like it. It’s not a friendly place for little children.”

“I bet it’s not,” Buddy murmured, belatedly kicking himself for saying something out loud. “What did you do after that?”

She shrugged again. “I watched Nat get her hair and makeup done, and then I sat in her living room, and Mr. Mike videotaped us while she read to me like I can’t even read a Dr. Seuss book.” Lucy scoffed. “She won’t even take turns—it’s always her reading the same dumb book. I hate that book. It’s not even a good Seuss book.”

Buddy tried unsuccessfully to stifle his amusement at her scorn. “What book is it?”

“Go Dog Go,” she huffed.

“Oh yeah, you’ve never like that one. You used to cry when I would try to read it to you when you were little.” Buddy sighed. “What is it, sweet pea?”

Lucy chewed on her lip. “I wasn’t a very good baby, was I?” she asked hesitantly.

Buddy’s stomach knotted. “Honey, there’s no such thing as a bad baby, but you were the very best baby, Lucy. Why would you think otherwise?”

“But that’s why she left, isn’t it? Because I was difficult?”

Lucy’s pleading look broke Buddy’s heart at the same time that it made his blood boil. She got out of her seat and climbed into Buddy’s lap. He hugged her tight. “Truth bomb?”

“Truth bomb.” Lucy nodded her head in agreement.

“You were not an easy baby. You had lots of earaches, and you had something called colic, meaning you would cry a lot because your tummy hurt. I wasn’t home a lot because I was working, and Nat’s daddy had just died, and she was feeling very sad.” He tucked a stray curl behind Lucy’s ear. “You know how you get sick to your stomach when you feel afraid about doing something?”

Lucy nodded.

“Well, Nat felt like that, too.”

“And she needed to have quiet time, like I do.”

Buddy inhaled and suppressed the need to express his true opinions about Lucy’s mother, so he just agreed. “A lot like that.”

“Oh.”

Buddy could tell Lucy was thinking, and he said a silent prayer that his explanation was sufficient. Lucy was a very intuitive child—she was a lot like her aunt in that respect. He knew he wouldn’t get away with that story for long, but right now, it would have to do.

“Can I get some more ham for my salad?”

“Sure, sweet pea. Anything you want.”

She hugged him tight. “I love you, Daddy. You’re the best.”

“I love you, too, Lucy, and I think you’re the best.”

“And when I’m finished with my salad, we can go home and read a real book.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay?”

Buddy laughed. “Okay.”