Mr. Personality. Eventually, she was going to put him in his place.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Calista promised. She saw pity in Erin’s eyes as the woman glanced toward Fowler. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Erin was thinking.
“Maybe the mayor can give you a raise,” Erin suggested in a whisper as she crossed the threshold.
“That would really be nepotism,” Calista said with a laugh.
“I’m not paying you to stand there, jawing the day away,” Fowler informed her, raising his voice so that people in the street outside could hear him.
“No, you’re not,” Calista agreed, forcing herself to sound cheerful.
Closing the door, she looked at her part-time employer. In truth, she felt sorry for the old man. He obviously had no friends and he alienated almost everyone he came in contact with. She had no idea how he even made a living. Since she’d started working at the shop, there had been only a handful of customers and maybe five sales. Of course, she was only here part-time, so maybe the bulk of the sales were conducted when she wasn’t around. For his sake, she hoped so. Otherwise, she couldn’t see how he would be able to manage to stay in business for any length of time.
But that, she reminded herself, wasn’t any of her concern. Instead, she focused on the fact that she was going to be seeing Jake again tomorrow night, however briefly.
The butterflies in her stomach returned, bringing friends.
Chapter Four
Jake really didn’t feel like going out for dinner that night. There were a number of rentals he’d circled in the newspaper that he wanted to review. Beyond that, he’d just planned a quiet evening getting in some bonding time with his daughter. This being a father thing was all still pretty new to him.
But when Corey had asked him to go out and grab some dinner with him, Jake felt that he couldn’t very well turn down his brother-in-law, not when Corey and Erin had taken him in like this with open arms. At the very least saying no to Corey’s invitation could come off as being ungrateful.
To win him over, Corey had even told him that he could be the one to pick the restaurant—as if he was familiar with the area, Jake thought.
But, on the other hand, going out would serve as a mental diversion for him and right about now, he needed to be diverted. And he really needed to put pressing, serious matters out of his mind.
Jake glanced at the letter he’d balled up and tossed on the coffee table earlier. The letter that had been tracking his whereabouts and had finally caught up with him here.
Maybe he shouldn’t have left a forwarding address at the post office in New Orleans, he thought. But then, if he’d just up and completely disappeared, he might have been charged with kidnapping by the people who’d sent him this letter. He was certain that by now, Maggie’s parents had gotten themselves a lawyer to contest their daughter’s final decision.
He knew that Mr. and Mrs. O’Shea maintained that Maggie hadn’t been in her right mind on her deathbed when she’d given custody of their little girl to him, especially because up until that point, she’d insisted that he have nothing to do with raising the baby, that the responsibility was all hers.
But nothing in the world was going to make him not honor his late partner’s request. Hell, even if she hadn’t asked him to take care of their little girl, he would have been there to watch over Marlie. He couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else.
He might not know what the hell he was doing, but those were just details. They’d work themselves out. The main thing was that Marlie was his blood, his child. He hadn’t thought the feeling would be so strong, but the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, it had been there, full-blown and vital. Marlie was his and he intended to do whatever it took to hang on to her. If that meant having to go into hiding someday, so be it.
As a police officer, he considered himself exceptionally law-abiding, but this was his child and there was no way on God’s green earth he was about to just turn her over to anyone, even her own grandparents. When she’d gotten pregnant, Maggie had told him stories about her childhood, about how almost fanatically strict her father had been, so much so that she ran away from home the moment she turned eighteen.
Someone like that wasn’t going to get his hands on Marlie, Jake thought. The little girl belonged with him. And he was doing his best to become the competent father she deserved.
Granted he was still tangled up in the learning curve, but he was getting there. Slowly but surely, he was getting there. He figured that by the time Marlie was in her teens, he’d have it all down pat. With any luck.
“You probably won’t want to have anything to do with me by then,” he told the infant he was holding tucked against his chest with one arm.
He could remember Erin when she’d been a teenager. She’d wanted to have nothing to do with either of her parents. Instead, she’d been hell-bent to try her own wings and be independent. There were arguments practically every day.
It wasn’t that their parents had been particularly strict—not anything like what Maggie had said about her father—it was just that Erin had been a stubborn mule, determined to have things her own way. He was fairly certain that Erin’s unruly behavior was why their father—and their mother—had prematurely gone gray.
“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Marlie?” he asked out loud, looking down at the tiny round face. Cornflower-blue eyes stared back at him, wide and intense, as if the infant was hanging on every syllable that he uttered. She might have Maggie’s red hair, but she had his eyes, he thought, pleased. “You wouldn’t turn my hair prematurely gray because you wanted to stay out all night doing God knows what with God knows who, right, Marlie? You’re my good little girl.”
“I don’t know, Daddy, I think you might look good in gray hair,” a high-pitched voice—obviously pretending to give him an answer as Marlie—said behind him.
Caught off guard, Jake swung around, only to see Calista walking into the living room. She flashed an apologetic grin at him.
He looked startled. Not when he’d turned around, but when their eyes had made contact. Why?
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you,” she told him, crossing to the sofa where he stood. “I just couldn’t resist.”
While he obviously knew it wasn’t Marlie talking—he thought she was special, but not that special—he’d assumed it was Erin who was pretending to answer him as his daughter. Seeing Calista standing there instead had temporarily thrown him off.
He was about to ask her what she was doing here, but because this wasn’t his house, the question would undoubtedly come across as sounding rude and he didn’t want that.
So instead he asked, “Are you here to see Erin?”
“Well, this is awkward,” Calista said, more to herself than to him. She saw Jake’s eyebrows draw together over his electric-blue eyes in a silent question. Trapped, Calista had no choice but to explain what had prompted her comment. “Erin said she was going to tell you.”
So far, this wasn’t getting any clearer. “Tell me what?”
Belatedly
