Back in my office, I saw a missed call from Heather and called her back right away.
“Hey! So, I can’t make it tonight. A source I’ve been after forever just agreed to meet with me for an interview. I can’t say no. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. We’ll have dinner another day.”
“Thanks. I would rather be with you, but I just can’t pass this up.”
“I understand. But who is watching Avery?”
“Oh, I was thinking about talking to my neighbor. Natasha has always been supportive at the last minute, and Avery likes her.”
“Or... I can spend the evening with Avery.”
Was it too fast? Too early? I didn’t really know what I was doing. I was playing this by ear, following my instincts.
“Wow. Really? She’d love that. I’d love that too.”
Her voice was bursting with excitement. I liked that I was the reason for that.
“Perfect. What’s the schedule?” I asked.
“Well, the two of us are home already. I need to leave in about three hours. Isn’t that too early for you though?”
Damn, it kind of was. On days like this, I had to be on top of things even after the stock market closed.
“I’ll be there on time and just bring my laptop with me,” I said. I wasn’t missing out on time with my girls for anything.
***
I was at Heather’s place at six o’clock on the dot. She opened the door for me with a huge smile. She looked phenomenal, wearing a black suit. The skirt reached just above her knees. Her legs looked endless in high heels.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
“Good evening to you too.” Her smile grew more pronounced. She took my laptop bag, placing it on the small chair next to the closet. I kissed her as soon as I stepped inside the door. I hadn’t seen her in two days, but this hunger I felt for her was insatiable, as if it had been two weeks. I wrapped a hand in her thick hair, tilting her head, kissing, claiming, marking her as mine. Her lips were slightly swollen when I pulled back. I ran my thumb over her mouth, pressing on the upper bow.
“Ryker, don’t,” she whispered weakly.
“What? Just kissing you for good luck. So you can focus better.”
“Well, if you keep it up, all I’m going to accomplish is to daydream about you during the interview.”
I took a large step to one side, keeping my hands up in surrender.
“I don’t want to jeopardize your professionalism. Where’s Avery?”
“In her room. So, I’ve left puzzles out, and if she wants to watch cartoons, she’ll tell you what her favorites are on Netflix.”
“Babe, we’re going to be fine,” I assured her. “What time will you be back?”
“Nine or ten.”
We heard Avery stomp through the apartment, running toward us.
“Ryker, you’re here!”
“I am.”
“Be a good girl, okay, Avery? Listen to Ryker,” Heather said.
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Okay. I have to go. Call me if you need help with anything.”
She fiddled with the strap of her bag, clearly wondering if this was a good idea.
“I’ve got this,” I said. “Go. Don’t be late.”
She smiled before taking off.
Once it was just the two of us, Avery took my hand, bringing me to the kitchen.
“Can we order pizza?” She pointed to a take-out menu pinned on the fridge. “We always order from there.”
“Sure.”
“Yes.” Avery clapped her hands, instantly lighting up. Should I be suspicious? I almost texted Heather to ask if there was some rule on pizza, but I’d just told her I had everything under control.
After ordering one pizza for us both, I told Avery, “It’ll take forty minutes for the delivery. What do you want to do until then?”
“I want to paint.” That brilliant smile was still on.
“Okay.”
I had no experience whatsoever with kids, but I was a fast learner. Within five minutes I realized there was a fundamental rule: I had to be very specific.
Case in point: I should have asked exactly what she wanted to paint. I assumed she’d bring out a coloring book, but instead Avery wanted to paint her own palms.
“Wait, let me see if that’s safe,” I said.
The package said it was water soluble, which was reassuring. I opened my laptop, checking the latest emails from clients while she played. By the time our pizza was delivered, Avery was walking around with blue palms, despite washing her hands once.
The delivery guy nearly broke a rib from laughter when Avery held up her hands, proudly declaring, “We can’t wash it off. I have blue hands now. But if you put the pizza on my arms, I’ll be really careful not to get paint on the box.”
She stretched her tiny arms, pointing with her chin to them. I placed the box on her arms, watching her walk slowly to the kitchen, balancing it carefully, as if it was a prized possession.
“Even if it says water soluble, try shampoo,” the delivery guy said once Avery was out of earshot. “My three-year-old painted his whole body once.”
The trick worked. Avery pouted while the color washed off, but her good mood was back once we were sitting at the table, devouring the food.
“This is an awesome evening,” Avery declared, taking a huge bite from her slice of pizza. Damn, how could it be so easy to make this little girl happy?
“What do you want to do afterward?” I asked her.
Avery chewed slowly, frowning, as if she was deep in thought.
“I have a kitchen in my bedroom. Do you want me to show you how to play with it?”
“Sure. We can start right now if you want, and just take our food with us?”
“We’re allowed to take pizza to my room? Ooooh, that’s so cool.”
Right. That enthusiasm clued me in that Heather must have some rule against eating in the bedroom, but fuck it. I’d already screwed it up, why take it back?
“We’re making a huge exception. Just for this evening.”
Avery practically jumped out of her chair. “Ryker, you are the best.” She threw her little arms around me in a hug. I laughed, ruffling her hair. We took the cartons and napkins to her room, putting everything on the floor.
“Only cool people are allowed in my room,” she exclaimed.
“So I’m cool?”
“Yes.”
The thought that this small creature was already so attached to me was getting to me in a way I couldn’t even describe. There wasn’t much space to move around between her toys and the furniture. She’d have a whole lot more space at my condo. Even the smallest room was bigger than this one.
Jesus, my own thoughts were scaring me... but not enough to keep from imagining the logistics of this, how everything could work out.
For the next half hour, she patiently explained how the “kitchen” worked, and I tried real hard not to tune her out. I failed more times than I succeeded.
“Avery, your pizza will get cold.” In her excitement, she’d forgotten to eat.
“Okay. Okay.” She sat down cross-legged, eating with small bites, glancing around her room. Her gaze stopped at her desk, and then she kept looking between me and the desk, as if trying to figure out something.