Chapter Ten

Perrie

 

The man had gone and lost his goddamn mind. That was the only explanation for the text message that had flashed up on my screen. Never mind that he was the last person I wanted to see today—his proposal was completely ridiculous.

 

Adrian: Zac wants to hang out with Lola. Do you want to take them for dinner somewhere?

 

Did I want to take my kid to dinner? Sure. With him and Zac? Zac I could deal with. But Adrian?

No way.

No. Way. Jose.

Last night we’d gotten too close. He’d been too all-up-in-my-business for me to be comfortable with this…whatever the hell this was.

We were strictly business. We were supposed to be strictly business. Meeting outside of that was inappropriate.

 

Me: I’m not sure it’s appropriate for us to hang out.

 

His response came quickly.

 

Adrian: We won’t be. Our kids will be.

Me: Not happening.

 

I’d barely put my phone down when it rang, flashing his name up on screen. I ignored it, pushing it closer to the wall and turning to the coffee machine.

“Moooooommy! Your phone’s ringing!” Lola called from the other room.

I sent the call to the robotic message lady. “Thank you, Lo. I’m right here next to it!”

It rang again when I pushed the button.

“It’s interrupting my show!” she shouted.

“It’s interrupting my sanity,” I muttered, watching as the coffee dripped down into the glass.

The call ended and god damn it, the ringing started again.

“Mommy!” Lola stomped into the kitchen. “Will you please answer that phone? I can’t take it anymore!”

On that final note, she turned on her bare heels and stormed right back out, leaving me blinking after her.

I mean…she had a point.

I snatched up the phone and answered it. “I’m only answering so Lola doesn’t have a cow,” I immediately said. “Something I might do myself if you don’t stop calling.”

Adrian’s chuckle crackled down the line. “Sorry. Zac made me keep calling until you answered or he was gonna come over there and ask himself.”

“He doesn’t know where I live.”

“Lola told him.”

Of course she did. “What are they? Best friends now?”

“Are you talking to Zac?” Lola screeched. A thump sounded, followed by an, “Ouch! I’m all right!”

“What the…” I breathed out.

“Apparently, yes,” Adrian replied as Lola hopped back into the kitchen.

“Hold on,” I said to him, moving the mouthpiece down to my shoulder. “Lola. What are you doing?”

She shot her arm out and pointed at the phone. “Is that Zac?”

“No.”

“Is that Zac’s dad?”

“Yes.”

“I want to talk to Zac.”

“Go and sit down.”

“I want to talk to Zac!”

“Zac’s here,” Adrian said warily. “Let them talk.”

“But I don’t—”

“Mommy, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” she whined, cutting off what was going to be my protest.

“Two minutes.” I held up two fingers and passed her my phone.

She nodded and held the phone up to her ear. “Hi, Zac…Mhmm…Okay…Yes!...Okay. Bye now.” She passed it back to me. “Here you go, Mommy.”

I barely had my fingers wrapped around the pone when she let go of it and ran off out of the room. “Hello?”

“Perrie?” Adrian’s voice answered me. “That you?”

“Yeah…What the hell was that about?”

“Uh, well, that dinner thing? It was Zac’s idea.”

“Don’t you dare carry on talking.”

“See you in an hour at Polka’s.”

I opened my mouth.

He hung up.

Fucking hell.

 

***

 

I got out of the car in the parking lot of Polka’s and slammed the door behind me. If there was anything worse that a forced dinner with Adrian, it was one at Polka’s.

Bright colors. Loud, happy-go-fucking-lucky, claw-your-eyeballs-out music. Greasy, shitty food that somehow tasted amazing…if you could get past the kids screaming in the extortionately big play area.

I usually couldn’t, which is why we didn’t come here often. The upside was that it was cheap, so I could cope with it…kinda.

“MommyaretheyhereyetcanyouseethecarIcan’tseeitMommycanyou?” Lola took a deep breath and got out of the backseat when I opened the door. “Can you, can you, can you?”

This was gonna be a long dinner.

A glance around the parking lot confirmed that they weren’t here yet, so instead of answering her, I said, “Let’s go inside and see.”

“Did you see the car? Are they here? Mommy, isn’t that their car? Mommy, will you answer me?”

“Lola, I don’t know. Inside now.” I sent up a small prayer to whoever was unfortunate enough to be privy to my life and pulled open the door.

Oh god, the screams. The shouts. The wails. They slammed into me like freaking tidal wave that had been held back.

It was all I could do not to wince at it. Lola, however, didn’t seem to notice as she skipped in and up to the hostesses table.

“Hi,” I said to the young girl with a bored expression. “We’re meeting some friends here—Dad’s tall, dark-haired, tattoos on his arm—”

“Dreamy like a Disney prince,” Lola interjected, earning herself a small smile from the girl.

I cut her a look. “And his son is a few inches taller than her,” I said, holding my hand over Lola’s head. “Crazy brown hair.”

“I think I know who you’re talking about. He said he was waiting for a couple blondes to show up.”

I’d heard that before.

At least it was in a kids’ restaurant and not a bar this time around.

Small victories and all that.

She led us toward a table relatively close to the children’s area. This was both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you didn’t have to get up to see your child, but a curse because, well, you didn’t have to get up to see your child since you were so close.

It was always a bittersweet spot to sit.

The second Lola saw Zac, she squealed and took off toward the table. Even my protest at her running didn’t slow her down, and what happened next was in slow motion.

She tripped on her shoelace. She flew forward, her arms outstretched, ponytail flying through the air, and her face contorted into an ‘o’ of horror as she got closer to the floor.

Adrian darted forward.

His big hands grasped hold of her waist, and he caught her before she hit the ground like a goddamn ninja.

Lola, of course, screamed.

“Hey!” Adrian pulled her up onto his knee. “It’s all right. I caught you.”

“Mommy.” Her lower lip wobbled as she turned her head toward me.

“Did I tell you not to run?” I asked her, eyebrows raised.

She nodded her head.

“Did you run?”

Another nod.

“Are you bleeding?”

Her head shook side to side.

“Then thank Adrian for catching you and making sure you didn’t hurt yourself, because there’s nothing wrong with you.” I looked at her pointedly and sat down.

Zac grinned.

“Thank you,” Lola muttered, clambering off him and taking her own seat.

Adrian fought a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Hey, Lola, you wanna go play?” Zac asked.

Her cheeks flushed light pink. “Okay. Mommy, can I please have the cheeseburger and strawberry shake?”

“Of course.” I bit the inside of my cheek as she jumped off her chair.

“Oh, and I wanna sit next to Zac.”

He rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway.

“I guess I’ll move up then.” Adrian snorted, sliding over to take the seat Lola had just vacated. We were thankfully distracted from the ensuing silence by the waitress coming back for our drinks order which I was thankful to place.

If I was drinking, it meant I didn’t have to talk to him. And I had something else to focus on other than the fact that he looked stupidly handsome when he wasn’t in work clothes.

Sure. He was only wearing a plain, gray t-shirt and a pair of light jeans, but whatever. I was used to seeing him in shirts at the very least. There was something about the way the t-shirt—

No, no, there wasn’t. There was nothing about the way that t-shirt did anything, never mind hugged his upper arms or his broad shoulders or his—

God fucking damn it.

“Would you believe that twenty-four hours ago, Zac was disgusted at the idea of a “stupid girl” sleeping in his house?” Adrian asked as soon as our drinks were brought over.

I picked up my towering Oreo shake. “No. This time yesterday, Lola was horrified she was sleeping at a mean and stinky boy’s house. Or something like that.”

“Yet, here we are…”

“Trapped at the most irritating children’s restaurant in Las Vegas, while I’d rather be at home without pants on?” I offered.

“I’d rather be at home with you without pants on, too.”

“That’s not an option.”

“Shame. I think you’d rather me be there without pants on.”

“Can we stop talking about pants?”

“You brought them up. Even though you’re not actually wearing any,” he pointed out.

True. I was wearing a dress. Clearly, it was a horrible mistake.

I shook my head. “Unless I’m wearing nothing but a strappy top and my underwear, I’m wearing pants.”

Adrian frowned, not even hiding the fact he was staring at my legs. “But you aren’t wearing pants.”

“It’s not my fault if we have a different definition of pants.”

“There’s only one definition of pants.”

“Oh, what a sheltered life you lead.” I patted him on the shoulder and sipped my shake. Ice-cold and oh-so-good, I let out a tiny moan of appreciation.

Adrian darted his eyes to me.

The straw let out a little pop as I pulled it from my lips.

He muttered something under his breath—something I couldn’t hear—and turned his face away from me.

I frowned just in time for the waitress to come back.

“Can I take your food order?” she asked, looking between the two of us.

I rattled off my order and Lola’s, then waited as Adrian did his. We’d both ordered the chicken wings, and I was hoping that was coincidence…Because we both just liked chicken wings.

Dear god, why would it be anything else?

What was wrong with me?

It was goddamn chicken wings!

I inhaled sharply and took another drink of my shake—sans moan, this time.

Thank god for that.

I didn’t need any more of those awkward side-eyes from the hot cop, thank you very much.

“I’m not happy about how this was arranged.” I was just gonna throw it out there. “Our kids are never speaking on the phone again.”

“That might be tricky. Zac has already concocted a plan to arrange with her. I heard him explaining it to Michelangelo earlier.”

“Michelangelo?”

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.”

Right. “Of course. That’s the perfect person to tell.”

Adrian laughed at me rolling my eyes. “If you were wondering, Lola is supposed to steal your phone at four-thirty every day for a five-minute phone call in the bathroom.”

“So, keep my phone in my bra is what you’re saying.”

“That’s a good place to start. I’ll keep mine in my boxers.”

“That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing there to hold it in place. Bras are the best holders, ever. I once woke up with eight-fifty in change in my bra.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You woke up with it there?”

“It’s sweaty, the cups are padded… You’re drunk. It’s not as uncomfortable as you’d think.”

He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed. “No, I think it’s exactly as uncomfortable as I think. Doesn’t it poke you in the night?”

“Yes, but so do men.”

“Point well made.”

“I thought so.”

He laughed again, this time dropping his hand. “I thought you said you were unhappy you were here.”

I turned to face him. “I am. I just can’t cuss you out with all these kids around. It’s not exactly family-friendly what I want to say.”

“I’m sure you’ll let it all out at work tomorrow.”

“Mmmm. Like I can do that.”

“You can say whatever you want to me at work. There, I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

What the hell did that mean? “And what are you gonna do if I pulled you outside now and told you exactly what I think about this impromptu little dinner meeting?”

“I’d push you against the wall and shut you up with my mouth on yours.”

His answer was so nonchalant, so flat, that it was hard to tell if he really meant that. It was always the same, whenever he went across the line, it was almost as if he disconnected himself from it.

Well, no thank you.

I’d had enough disconnection in my life.

“This is ridiculous. As soon as our food arrives and Lola’s done, we’re leaving. This was a terrible idea,” I finished on a mutter, scooting my chair over a few inches.

“They’re friends, Perrie. You don’t have to like it, but you have to humor them.”

“I don’t have to do anything unless I want to where my daughter is concerned.” My voice had an edge—the same edge that had annoyance trickling through my veins.

Who was he to tell me that I had to humor my daughter’s friendship with his son? He had no right to do that, just like I didn’t have to humor this strange little comradery they’d struck up.

I mean, Jesus Christ. I didn’t want any of this. I never had any intention for my daughter to meet his son, yet life had gotten in the way. And right now? Right now, I shouldn’t have been at Polka’s having this conversation. It never should have gone this far.

What I should have done was put my foot down and told Lola no. That we weren’t having dinner with them. That this wasn’t going to happen.

Working with Adrian on a regular basis was hard enough.

I didn’t need to see him in my down time, too.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” I snapped. “That I have to like the fact I was tricked into this dinner tonight?”

“You think I want to be here anymore than you do?”

“You’re not showing me otherwise.”

His jaw set, his eyes hardening as he shifted in his seat. “I’m here because Zac begged me to see Lola. He has a ton of other friends, but he wanted her.”

“Then next time, do me a favor and convince him to hang out with someone else, all right?”

“Not as long as he feels like he has a friend with Lola. You think their like of each other is built on Minecraft?”

“I don’t know, but if I hear one more thing about that damn game I’m going to throw myself out of a window.”

“I agree with you there.” He inclined his head, but he followed it up by sighing and running his hand through his hair, turning away from me. “Zac talked about his mom for the first time in a long time this afternoon.”

I didn’t speak. All I knew about her was that she was dead, because Zac had so very brutally said so yesterday.

“He likes Lola because she’s like him. She only has one parent. The other is dead. She’s a kindred spirit for him.”

I dropped my eyes to my lap. There, I fidgeted, clicking my thumb nails against the other.

I hadn’t thought of that.

Why would I? They’d spent mere hours in each other’s presence. Lola knew next to nothing about her dad, nor had she ever asked me what had really happened to him. I don’t think she truly understood, and maybe that’s what I hadn’t pushed it.

Did she want to know?

“I still don’t appreciate being tricked into this,” I said, this time much quieter than I was a moment ago. “And Lola never said any of this to me.”

“I didn’t expect she would. Zac told me she never asks you because she’s afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Making you cry.”

I shook my head and looked up at the play area. “I’ll never cry over him. He doesn’t deserve the tears of me or her. Excuse me.” I stood. “If our food comes over, will you tell Lola I’m in the restroom?”

Adrian stared at me for a moment, his eyes questioning. “Of course.”

“Will you watch my purse?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you.” I pushed away from the table and made my way through the throng of tables and peoples, of servers and food and drinks, of happiness and brightness.

The ladies restroom was mercifully quiet. Almost as if they had soundproof doors on the things. I welcomed the silence as it wrapped around me as I stood in front of the sinks.

Glancing up, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked like a stranger.

One hour from call to restaurant. I’d barely had time to shower and get ready, let alone do a full face of make-up or make myself look like the Perrie the world knew. No, here I was, with hair that was wavy and barely-blow dried. Eyelashes all but void of mascara. The tiniest hint of freckles dancing across my cheeks where there was no thick make-up to hide them.

The only hint I’d been inside my bag at all was the gloss that was only marginally slicked across my lips.

I looked like me. The stranger I rarely showed to the world—and a big part of that was the sadness that lingered in my eyes.

Would I cry over the shit, Linc, that was my daughter’s father? No. He didn’t deserve that. He made the choices he did. I didn’t hold responsibility for his actions, and even if he was dead, I would never give him that power.

More to the point, I didn’t want her to cry over him, either.

I didn’t want her to feel responsible for what he did.

I didn’t want to think about the actions in my family that lead to that.

All thinking about Linc did was lead to the inevitable path of thinking about my family—of my dead mother and sister, of my estranged father.

Of Damien. Of the brother who told me to kill my daughter yet still tried to help me.

Of the brother who was too much of a coward to show his face despite all that pretense…Because that’s all it was. Pretense.

Some things in life were meant to be kept close to your chest. My life was an entire deck of cards meant to be played closely to myself.

No matter what Adrian Potter thought.

I splashed water on my face and grabbed a paper towel to dry it off. The moment’s breather was so welcomed.

From the conversation and from the man who’d instigated it.

Pushing out of the bathroom, I headed back to the table. The kids were both sitting there, eating, and Adrian was leaning across it with a red, squeezy bottle in his hands.

I joined them right as he was done squirting ketchup onto the side of Lola’s plate.

“Thank you.” Lola grinned.

A third of the plate was covered in ketchup.

“Got enough ketchup, Lo?” I asked, sitting down in front of my meal.

She shrugged. “We’ll see in half a burger and a portion of fries.”

Seemed fair.

“Can I have that much ketchup, Dad?” Zac asked, hope glancing his expression.

“No,” Adrian answered.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have to clean Lola up when she’s done.”

My mouth dropped open. “That’s not fair!”

Adrian shrugged while Lola giggled.

“Move your fries, Zac.” I grabbed the ketchup bottle.

He laughed gleefully and sis as I’d said. No sooner had he released the fries than I squeezed the bottle with all my might, leaving a huge dollop of it on the side of his plate. It was more than enough for the both of them, but whatever.

Payback was a bitch.

So was I when I wanted to be.

Adrian gave me a dark look, but I simply smiled sweetly at him. What was good for him to do was good for me, too. That was how this worked, after all.

Aside from the kids giggling at each other, we all ate in relative silence. Lola lagged halfway through, and I knew she’d be asleep before we even got home. The purple-red bags beneath her legs were growing with every mouthful she swallowed.

By the time they’d finished, Adrian and I had been waiting for a few minutes. I’d studiously ignored him, though, by checking my phone. I’d had enough conversation with him today to last me a week, but that hadn’t stopped him trying.

“Mommy, I’m finished.” Lola pushed her plate toward me. She’d eaten a little over half her plate, which was another reason we rarely came here.

“Tired?” I asked her.

She glanced at Zac and shook her head in the negative.

Not sure who she was trying to convince, but it wasn’t me.

Our waitress came past, and I managed to flag her down and ask for the bill to be split in two.

“One is fine,” Adrian said.

“Two,” I insisted. “Me and my daughter’s will be separate, thank you.”

She hovered for a moment before she paused and nodded.

“Mommy,” Lola whispered. “I need the restroom.”

I sighed. “Do you mind watching my purse again?” I asked Adrian.

His lips tugged to the side. “It’s not really my color, but sure.”

“Funny,” I whispered before getting up and taking Lola’s hand. “Come on, pumpkin.”

I led her to the bathroom to do her business. She was in there for all of two minutes before she left, tugging on her underwear behind her.

“Lola,” I said, bending down and tugging at her shorts. “We sort our underwear out inside the cubicle, remember?”

She looked at me, eyes wide, and shrugged. “I’m tired, Mommy.”

No shit, kid. No freaking shit.

“I know. Let’s go now, okay?”

She tucked her hand into mine and leaned against me. “Okay.”

“I just have to pay.” I took her back over to the table. Adrian and Zac were already standing, their things gathered, and Zac had my purse in his hands.

“Here.” Zac held it out to me.

“Thanks.” I smiled as I took it. “How much was my check?”

“I took care of it,” Adrian said. “I made you come, so don’t worry about it.”

I blinked at him. “You took care of it? What do you mean?”

“I covered the bill.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You might wanna try “thank you.”” He winked and tapped Zac on the shoulder.

I forced a smile, and it took everything I had to eke out, “Thank you.”

He grinned smugly. “You’re welcome.”

“Okay, Lo, say goodbye. Time for you to go to bed.” I squeezed her hand and gave her a soft smile.

“Bye. Thank you for dinner, Mister Adrian.” Lola smiled shyly and tucked herself behind me.

With the echoes of their goodbyes, I ushered her out of the restaurant and straight into the car. I pulled out of the lot before Adrian and Zac had even left.

By the time I arrived home, Lola was fast asleep. Her head lolled to one side, and her mouth was wide open.

I couldn’t help but smile as I got up and out of the car, keys in hand. I wouldn’t even be able to undress her and put her in pajamas. Tonight, laziness would win out and she could crash in her clothes.

Parenting at its finest.

I’d just turned the key in the door when the sound of a car rumbling caught my attention. I turned in time to see the bright red Toyota pull up in front of my driveway.

My stomach sank. Only one person had ever pulled up there before.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when Adrian got out.

He held up a white block. “You left your phone on the table. Zac noticed it before we left.”

Damn it. “Oh, well, thank you for bringing it over.”

He bounded up the path to me and handed it over. “You’re welcome,” he said, his tone full of warmth, and his eyes reflecting the very same thing. “I know you hated every second, but I had fun tonight.”

I stared at him.

He didn’t even try to fight the smirk that tugged his lips to one side. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night. By the way,” he said, tapping the side of his chin. “You’ve got a little…”

I rubbed at the spot he indicated. “Is it gone?”

Still smirking, he shook his head. “No. It’s right…” He stepped closer to me and, meeting my eyes, brought his hand up to my face.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Here,” he murmured, wiping his thumb across the corner of my lower lip. Slowly and gently, tingles erupted from the point where he’d made contact with my lip. “Got it.”

I swallowed. “That’s not—that’s not where you said.”

“I know.” His thumb lingered on my mouth for a second longer.

Then, without another word, he dropped his hand and turned away.

I waited, my hand on the door, and watched as he got into his car and drove away.

Drove away like my heart wasn’t thumping a million miles an hour thanks to that touch.

That man—he’d be the death of me one day.