Slade’s been involved in developing a new golf course and club just outside of Nashville. The grand opening is set for a week from now. Catrine is the go-between for the party planner and Slade.
“I’d like Paige to take over for you on this one,” Slade says, sitting down on the sofa with Finn. “You’ll be off soon, so she should learn the ropes.”
“I don’t know the first thing,” I say, surprised by his sudden display of confidence in me. “Slade, I don’t want to mess this up.”
Catrine tosses her hands up. “The party planner does most of it. Just think about it like when you were a kid and had a birthday party. You need food, dessert, entertainment. Easy.”
“But I . . .” Choking back my words, I reach for Finn, but Slade holds up his hand, motioning that the baby is now comfortably resting on his chest. No longer able to fight back the barrage of emotions in me, I push on my eyes, my hand running through my hair.
Slade sits up just slightly. “Catrine, give us a minute.”
She looks at me first, and I give her a little nod that I’m fine before she disappears into another room. “If this is too much, then I’ll find someone else to coordinate,” Slade says.
“No, no, I’ll do it,” I say, not wanting to do anything to put my job at risk. Sitting down beside him, I stroke Finn’s little foot. Slade just waits, watching me. He’s my boss. He deserves an explanation and to be reassured I can handle it. Softly, I whisper, “I’ve never had a party before, so I’m not sure what I’m doing. But I can figure it out.”
“Never?” he asks. I shake my head. “A cake, balloons, presents?” Another head shake. “Not one ever?”
Looking down, I’m not sure why I’m ashamed of that, but I am. How pitiful and pathetic I must seem to him. But that’s the truth. Most of the time, no one even remembered. My birthday could come and go, and no one would even wish me a “Happy Birthday,” much less get me a card, cake, or a gift.
“Well, you’ll need to learn because I see a lot of race car parties in this little guy’s future,” Slade says, pushing out a smile.
I look up at him. Finn in his arms, playing with the stubble on his face. I’ve never seen Finn in a man’s arms before, outside of his doctor. “I grew up in the system, in and out of foster care,” I say. “My mom lost custody because she did drugs and was a . . .” I just can’t say it. “Her pimp tried to recruit me when I was barely fifteen. When I refused, he beat me up, and the police got involved. That’s when I was taken from her for good.”
“Where’s your mom now?” he asks.
“Not sure.”
He leans up slightly, reaching out, but doesn’t touch me. “I need to ask you something. It’s not a jab, but I need to know.” I give him a little nod. “Is there anyone? A pimp or a madam that might be looking for you?”
“No,” I state firmly.
“What about Finn’s dad?” he asks.
“No.”
“Was he one of your clients?”
“Give him to me,” I say, almost ripping Finn from his arms and flying to my feet.
“Paige,” he says, standing up and rubbing the sides of my arms. “I only ask because if there’s someone you need protection from, I can help. You’re safe here. You both are.”
“I’ll handle the party,” I say.
“Do you not know?” he asks quietly. “Who his father is?”
My hand whips across his face with such force that it leaves my palm print on his cheek. I suddenly realize what I’ve done. I just hit my boss. It’s not the first time I’ve hit a man, but it’s always been to fight back or fight them off. What have I done? Regret shoots through my veins, and my body starts to tremble and shake. “I’m sorry. Dear God, I’m sorry.”
His hands come up, and I instinctively cower, sheltering Finn while bracing for the impact. “Paige,” he says softly.
I don’t look up, still covering Finn, waiting.
“I’m not going to hit you,” Slade says gently. “I would never.”
It takes me a second before I find the courage to turn my eyes up to him. One look into his handsome face, and God help me, but I believe him.
Slowly, he reaches out again, running his hands through my hair before doing the same to Finn’s bald head. His touch is soft and tender. No man has ever touched me like this. Ever.
“I don’t know who my father is,” I sob quietly. “Because my mom was a prostitute.” His blue eyes hold mine, that ugly truth not scaring him away, which makes me open up more. “When I was very little, I used to imagine him as some sort of hero who would come and rescue me.” I shake my head. “Stupid. A man like that is no better than my mother.”
His lips curve up in a small smile. Maybe he agrees with me. The woman always gets the bad rap for being a whore, but what about the men who pay for that service? Are they really any better? As far as I’m concerned, they’re worse. At least the woman is honest about what she does. The man is probably sneaking around on his wife or girlfriend. And don’t even get me started on the boys will be boys nonsense. Having a penis is not an excuse for bad behavior. Finn will know that.
“Your face,” I whisper, my fingers grazing his red cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he says. “But I wasn’t passing judgment on you.”
“I just can’t talk about it. I want to give Finn a better life and not think about all that bad stuff.”
“I know,” he whispers. “More than you think I do.”
Something in his eyes, his voice, makes me believe he does get it. My eyes well up, and I gently hold his cheek in my hand. “It’s so red.”
He inches closer to me. “It’s alright.”
I’m not sure what comes over me. The only thing I can think about is making it better. Clearly, I’m taking this mommy thing to new levels, and I lean in and softly kiss Slade’s cheek. It wasn’t more than what people casually do when they greet each other, but when I pull back, there’s a desire in his eyes, the heat filling up the space between us.
Finn reaches up and smacks my cheek this time. I catch his little hand. “Good to know he’s on my side,” Slade says, giving him a little tickle. “Us men have to stick together.”
“Oh great,” I say. “When Catrine leaves, I’ll be outnumbered.”
He flashes me a wicked grin. “I like those odds.”
*
Let’s recap—in the past five minutes, I’ve slapped my boss and kissed him. On the cheek, but still. Maybe it was better when he was never here.
Catrine pops her head in my bedroom door and asks, “Hey, you alright?”
“Yeah, thanks for checking.”
“Don’t worry about the party,” she says. “I’ll help you. We’ll get it done.”
“You’ve done a lot of these for Slade?”
“A few,” she says. “They’re always a lot of fun. Although I have no idea what I’m going to wear to this one because I’m so huge. We’ll have to do some shopping. Maybe drive into Nashville.”