I can tell he’s upping his icy cold behavior and adding some frost on top to get a kick out of me and make me talk, but I haven’t taken the bait.
He’ll eventually tire of demanding an answer out of me and move on.
Or at least, I hope so.
In the meantime, I try not to be in his vicinity unless absolutely necessary. The fact that we’re practically in his house all the time doesn’t help, though. I tried putting my foot down, but Daniel is surprisingly adamant about not letting us go back most days. He even made it a requirement to continue working.
My traitor brother is on his side, too. No surprise there. Jay hated our neighborhood and always said he’ll become rich and buy us a house to get us out of that hellhole. A part of me is happy that his asthma has gotten significantly better since we don’t spend much time in the humid flat, but the other part is both anxious and completely perturbed at being around Daniel.
I’m wearing a cracked professional mask, and I’m sure he sees right through it.
How the hell am I supposed to be professional after I sucked his cock like a first-class whore?
Then had an epic meltdown when he touched you. Don’t forget about that part, Nicole.
Releasing a sigh, I step out of the lift on the managing partners’ floor. It’s lunchtime and I usually spend that with Aspen—when she doesn’t have work outside the office, which is as rare as peaceful days in my life.
She’s the only person I consider a friend around here. And I think I’m also her only actual friend.
Most people, including her assistant, are either intimidated by her or scared of her.
She’s even lonelier than me. At least I have Jay and Lolli—and, yes, Lolli counts. Aspen is a true lone she-wolf through and through. Despite her senior partner status and tough bitch persona, she has no one on her side. Aside from Nathaniel Weaver, maybe.
And because she’s not particularly close to anyone but me, I’m surprised to find a young intern standing in front of her office. From what I’ve learned during my time here, her name is Gwyneth Shaw Weaver, daughter of the Kingsley Shaw and wife of the Nathaniel Weaver.
She’s tucked into her father’s side, her face red as Aspen stares at her with an expression I’ve never seen her wear.
Vulnerability.
She says something, but Gwyneth lowers her head and Kingsley smirks as he guides his daughter away.
Once they’re out of view, I approach a stiff Aspen slowly. “Are you okay?”
She goes inside with rigid steps and I follow after her, closing the door.
Aspen grabs her glass nameplate and throws it against the wall. “That motherfucker!”
Then she straightens and puts her navy blue jacket in order, composing herself as fast as she had lost her cool.
“Sorry.” She smiles at me as she picks up her nameplate, which is surprisingly still in one piece, and puts it back on her desk. “I had to get that off my chest or I would’ve had a stroke.”
“No judgment here.” I place the lunch boxes on the table and sit down. “I hope you like lasagna.”
“I like anything you cook. No one’s ever made me homemade meals.”
“Well, I’m your girl in that department.”
She slides onto the chair opposite me and we eat in silence for a few moments. Despite her small fit of rage, she doesn’t seem relaxed. Just…uptight.
It’s so unlike her to be agitated for long. Yes, she’s in a sour mood after every fight with Kingsley, but she usually forgets about it soon after.
“She’s my daughter,” she whispers.
I take a sip of water. “Who?”
“Gwyneth.”
I choke on the water and Aspen is by my side, patting my back. “Jesus, Nicole. I tell you something and you nearly choke to death? Thanks for the moral support.”
I clear my scratchy throat. “I’m…surprised, is all. Isn’t she in her twenties?”
“She’s twenty.”
“And you’re thirty-five. When did you have her? At fourteen?”
“Going on fifteen, yes.”
“Wow.”
“Kind of a reassuring reaction.” She digs her fork in the lasagna and takes a large bite that she can barely fit in her mouth.
“It’s not judgment. I’m just processing all of this.” I touch her hand. “It must’ve been so tough.”
She pauses chewing and stares at me as if I’m a clown in a horror film. If I didn’t think it was so unlikely, I’d think tears were shining in her eyes. “You’re…the first person who’s ever said that to me.”
“That’s because other people are scared to tell you anything.”
She swallows the bite of food. “Doesn’t matter anyway. She…Gwyneth doesn’t like me or consider me her mother, and that fucking asshole Kingsley is turning her against me every chance he gets. He’s not even allowing me the chance to be a part of her life.”
“Isn’t she old enough to make her own decisions?”
“She is, but she’s also too attached to him considering he raised her on his own. I told her I thought she’d died and that I didn’t abandon her on purpose, but she still hates me for having to grow up without a mother. Which is understandable, but still…”
“How about asking for her husband’s help? You’re friends with Nathaniel.”
“Nate told me to give her time. But with her jerk of a father in the picture, no amount of time will help.” She pauses, narrowing her eyes on an abstract painting on the wall. “Maybe I should do the world a favor and hire someone to kill the motherfucker for real this time.”
“Are you sure you want to say that out loud?”
“Pretend you didn’t hear anything.” She smiles and I smile back.
Then we fall into a silent companionship. Now I know why Aspen helped me the first time I knocked on her door, no questions asked.
She’s experienced what it feels like to lose a child, and judging by how guarded she’s turned out to be, the pain must’ve been immeasurable. It probably shaped her into the woman she is today.
I can’t imagine my life without Jayden. He’s my second chance to do better, to do something good.
And I’ll fight for him until my death if I have to.
My phone pings with a text and I startle, then my heart skyrockets when I see the name on the screen.
Bloody Idiot: I have a last-minute job. Book me a flight to Singapore and a hotel room for two days.
Singapore? Two days?
I don’t know why my stomach churns at the news. Even though he’s in his office every day and mostly handles things remotely, Daniel is still an international solicitor, and traveling for work isn’t a novelty.
Nicole: Right away.
Bloody Idiot: Stay in my flat with the kid and the cat.
Nicole: We’re fine in our flat.
Bloody Idiot: That’s an order, Ms. Adler. I don’t want to hear your annoying neighbors through the phone when I call for work.
I purse my lips. He either likes being a jerk or he’s terrible at being nice without the jerk part.
Nicole: Got it.
Bloody Idiot: Oh, and take this as your deadline. When I come back, you better tell me what the fuck was wrong with you the other day or I’ll find out myself. Either option will give me the same result, but you can choose whether or not you’ll pay for keeping information from me.