“Mommy, who’s that man?” she asked in an adorable raspy voice while eyeing me suspiciously. I needed to fight the urge to blurt out that I was her daddy, to close the distance between us and wrap her in my arms. Having that urge confused me, especially when I’d never had a paternal urge before. And while being overwhelmed with so many unfamiliar emotions, one that resonated clearly above the rest, one that I was extremely familiar with, was guilt. This child should have been mine and Tara’s. She should have been born into this world from love, not from a one-night stand.
With a smile, Camilla dropped to her knees before Alivia. “Sweetie pie, this is my friend Trey.”
“That’s a funny name.” Alivia scrunched her nose while continuing to measure me up. “Why do you have pictures on your arms?”
An unexpected chuckle rumbled through me. “I don’t know.”
“Can you erase them? I have a Hello Kitty eraser. Do you want it?”
“No, that’s okay.” I motioned toward her T-shirt. “Is that who’s on your shirt?”
Golden-brown pigtails skimmed her shoulders as she looked down at what she wore. “Yes,” she said, pushing her tiny finger into her belly. “I love her.”
“Sweetie…” Camilla took her daughter’s hand, our daughter’s hand, between hers. “Would you like to show Trey your favorite park?”
“Yes, please!” She hopped up and down, causing her ribbon-bound waves to bounce around her shoulders.
“Okay, just for a little while before dinner. Go get your sneakers for me.”
Alivia scrambled out of the room, leaving me alone with Camilla, who slowly rose to her feet and shrugged. “This way you can watch her play. She tends to ask a lot of questions, and we need to talk about how you should answer them.”
“Okay,” I said, a bit relieved. I had no idea how I would answer any question she’d throw my way. I wished I’d brought Leila with me. She’d know what to do. I remembered the first time I had met Shane, but that was different. The kid idolized rock stars, and his love of guitars had given us an instant bond.
What did I possibly have in common with a six-year-old girl?
Chapter 7
Camilla
Regret was a heady emotion to handle, especially when every fiber of my being regretted telling Trey he had a daughter.
There had been a few times over the years when guilt from keeping Alivia from him had tormented me. The first time I built up the nerve to reach out, I’d seen him all over the entertainment channels in leaked photos of a compromising situation with two women. I watched as he toured the world, drinking his way from city to city, and who knew what else he indulged in.
Then he’d met his wife, Tara, and seemed to have calmed down a bit. But during an interview, when asked about kids coming next, Trey had claimed he would never father a child. And then his world had imploded with the death of his wife.
So, I’d finally made the decision to contact him, desperate for him to relinquish custody to protect my daughter from his unstable world, and apparently he was a now changed man?
Only a few days ago, I’d been positive, based on the promiscuous rock star I knew only from those very tabloids, that he would’ve signed the paperwork and been done with us. Once that was over with, I could then assign my best friend, Debbie, as Alivia’s legal guardian without my plan being contested.
In hindsight, I probably had a better chance of him walking away from Alivia back then than I did now. My master plan could easily backfire, but I wouldn’t allow it. This was my daughter’s life. I was in it for the long run, through all the upcoming school projects and formals. Through the tears that would come from boy trouble. Through her becoming a woman and teaching her how to navigate the world with confidence and strong morals.
Where would Trey be during those profound moments? He may have changed, but the part of his life that hadn’t changed terrified me. Living the life of a rock star with not a care in the world while traveling on a tour bus would always be his role, and that didn’t sit well with me.
Anything could happen when it came to the custody of a child. With my luck, the judge would be a major Devil’s Lair fan, so displeased that I’d kept Alivia from Trey that he or she would grant him partial custody. And then what? While he toured for weeks, months on end, my daughter would be with him and away from me?
Over my dead body.
Alivia happily held my hand while skipping the entire way to the park, having no clue the man walking beside her could forever change her perspective on life. Whether in a negative way or a positive one would remain to be seen.
Except for Alivia’s idle chatter, which thankfully did not include any questions for Trey, not one word was spoken between us the entire three-block walk to the park. My silence was justified as my mind raced, bringing me close to a state of panic, but I had no idea what his thoughts were.
The moment the jungle gym came into view, she pulled from my grasp and headed straight toward the few other children who were happily playing. The two women who sat on a bench adjacent to us stopped their conversation to stare at Trey. The black T-shirt he wore displayed most of the ink on his arms and, combined with the black jeans, black boots, black baseball cap, and black shades, every inch of his six-foot frame looked intimidating.
When he followed me to the furthest bench, sitting his ass directly beside mine, the women resumed their conversation. Feeling his radiating body heat forced me to scooch a few inches to my left, to which he simply stretched his arm behind me and twisted his head to reveal a saucy smirk.
At seeing it, something deep in the pit of my stomach pulsed. It was the same look he’d given me the night we met, that confident all-knowing expression that said he knew the effect he had on me.
Well, this time that cockiness he was so good at dishing out served to fuel my fire, prompting me to get right to the point. “Look, Trey—”
“She’s awesome—” he began, stopping my words until they registered. “Look, Trey, what?”
I paused to carefully choose what I would say. I didn’t want to upset him, make him defensive and possibly feed any motive he may be entertaining. “I think we should schedule a meeting with your lawyer. I’ll bring mine as well, and—”
“You got a lawyer?”
“Well, yes…” Was he serious? “He drew up the contract and probably should’ve been with me the day after I presented you with it.” I wanted to admit that, like an idiot, I’d assumed this would be over without argument. “I think it’d be best that we all meet to discuss it.”
“I’m not signing that contract,” he casually admitted, like he had just acknowledged a bluebird flying by. The way he stretched his long legs, crossing them at his ankles, irritated me further. It was evident he was used to getting what he wanted.
Every cell in my body pulsed anxiously. “What is it you want, Trey?”
“I thought I’d made that clear. I want to get to know my daughter.”
“And I thought I made it clear this isn’t something you can undo once she learns you’re her father.” As I stated what I believed to be obvious, guilt again pinched inside my heart. He did have the right to know her, to be in her life. What he didn’t have the right to do was disrupt it, bring chaos into it. And with his lifestyle, that was a definite possibility.