I know I lied to her about that, but I didn’t want her thinking I was spying on her. There aren’t any cameras in the bedrooms or bathrooms, and the only time I’ve checked on her was that first night. If I’m honest, part of it was because I’d just left a prostitute alone in my house, which was cause for a little alarm. I logged on just to check that she wasn’t robbing me blind, finding her mesmerized by the Cooking Channel, confirming my initial instinct about her. The other part of me wanted to make sure she and Finn were okay. I called and reminded her about the alarm and haven’t spied on her again until today. A few times, I activated the alarm from my phone, but only when it was really late at night, and it was obvious she forgot, but even on those nights, I never looked at the camera. I’m not a creep, but I doubt she’d see it that way.
It only takes a couple of seconds before I see her walk through the den, so I close out the app, lock Whiskey’s gate, and head back toward the house.
Wonder if she’s still pissed about Clay? Only one way to find out. Heading inside, I hear Finn laughing and follow his little giggle to the den. I find Paige holding Finn up in the air, smelling his rear end and saying, “Stinky, stinky.”
I let out a little chuckle, and her eyes fly to me. Guilt covers her face. I don’t know how this girl did the things she did. She’s not good at hiding things. “I didn’t think you were here,” she says.
“Was out with the horses,” I say, my eyes landing on a bag slung across the sofa. “How’d it go today? You got a dress?” I ask.
Ignoring my obvious and lame attempt to smooth things over, she says, “What’s in the kitchen?”
“The high chair?” I ask. “You never got around to ordering one the other night, so I just picked up one.”
“Take it back.”
“Why? The lady at the store said it was the best one on the market. You wanted a different one?”
“The brand is fine,” she says.
“Then what’s the problem?” I ask.
“You thinking you can just go buy something, and somehow, that’s going to fix what you did with Clay.”
Yep, still pissed. Women can hold on to their anger forever. It’s so much simpler for males. We just punch each other, and it’s over. “If that were true, I’d feel bad about what I said to Clay, and I don’t.”
“Of course you don’t,” she says as Finn starts to squirm in her arms. “I thought you’d be in the city tonight.”
I can’t help but smirk at her. “Thought I should stay and make sure you activate the alarm.”
*
Having her mad at me is not the deterrent she thinks it is. She’s probably used to throwing around some bitch routine as part of her tough-girl image, but it only makes me want to make her feel better.
So for every door she slams, I open one for her, even if I’m nowhere near her. For every side-eye, she earns a smile. Every time she ignores me, I think of something else I want to say to her. Basically, the next week is hell for both of us. On top of that, she’s been run ragged preparing for the golf course opening.
If she’s waiting for me to apologize, she’ll be waiting until hell freezes over. I don’t feel bad for warning Clay away. He’s not what she needs, and there is no way in hell he was just looking for friendship. I saw the way he looked at her. I know that look. I look at her much the same, but Paige seems clueless. For a woman who lived the life she did, how can she not know when a man wants her? I thought that was a prerequisite for “working” women?
We seem to be at a stalemate. I won’t apologize, and she won’t cool down until I do. My mother always called herself a peacemaker. She said she had to be in order to be married to my father. So she was the one who always said she was sorry even though my father was usually the one at fault. She wanted peace at any cost.
I didn’t inherit that trait. Obviously, Paige doesn’t have it, either. So here we are.
One week into this argument, there’s a high chair she refuses to use and a party to attend tonight. I’ve stayed out at the ranch most of the week, but the opening forced me back into the city last night. Five hundred of Nashville’s most influential will be there tonight, so this needs to go off without a hitch. Stepping into my closet, I reach for the garment bag that’s home to my tuxedo. I wonder what Paige’s dress looks like. All I saw was a very similar bag.
I hope her dress isn’t red. I don’t want to think about her with my father.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PAIGE
The opening of the golf course is tonight, and I’m excited about it. Catrine asked her mom to babysit Finn for me, which was so sweet. I’ve got a new dress and shoes. All I need is to grab a few more things, and Catrine and I will be headed out to drop Finn off and then go to the party. I look at my dress hanging from the top of my bedroom door. It’s floor-length and black, but it’s cut low, almost to my navel, and covered in illusion fabric. Catrine said I looked hot and classy, so I trusted her.
The past week has been a whirlwind. Slade was around a lot more, but I tried to keep my distance as much as possible. Falling asleep in his bed had been a warning sign, a big one. I’m too comfortable. I’m too close. If I’ve learned any lessons in my life, it’s that close and comfortable are dangerous. So I stayed busy. Not sure Slade cares that I’m giving him the cold shoulder, but it’s better this way. Or at least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of. Clay’s still not really talking to me, and I’ve just had to accept that. I can’t force his friendship, especially if he feels like his job is in jeopardy.
“Paige,” Catrine says from behind me, and I can tell in her tone something isn’t right. “Slade just called.”
“Oh no,” I say. “Is there a problem? Did the band flake? Because I’ll yank their deposit so fast.”
“No,” she says, looking down and rubbing her belly bump. “He says I should take it from here.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Taking my hand, she says, “He said for you to stay here.”
“Oh,” I say, looking wistfully at my dress.
“I tried to tell him how hard you’ve been working.”
“I understand,” I say, not wanting to take any joy away from her. It’s not her fault, and this may be her last chance to dress up and have a night out for a while.
Her head shakes. “I’m sorry. You really should be there.”
I guess my attitude this week has come back to bite me in the ass. I wanted distance and space, and now I’m getting it. I hope I’m not also getting fired. “It’s his party,” I say, putting on my bravest face. “Do you have everything you need?”
She nods, giving me an extra-long hug before she leaves. Does she know I’m being fired? Is this her farewell hug? I simply smile at her. Someone with my history learns how to smile through the worst shit. This is nothing, and the last thing I want is for her to feel bad.
When she’s gone, I sit down on the sofa with Finn in my lap, giving him a smile. “We don’t need a party, a dress, or dancing.” Only this time, a tear falls down into the crease of my smile.