“I wish I’d never met ye, Pixie.”
“Aidan, no!”
“Too many ghosts between us,” he whispered.
And then he was gone.
“AIDAN!”
“Nora, wake up. Nora.” I was jolted abruptly and horribly awake, my eyes flying open. I took in the blurry face above my own and winced against the light, completely discombobulated.
Where the hell was I?
“You fell asleep on the couch. We all did.”
“Aidan?” I attempted to blink the weariness out of my eyes and pushed up off the couch, groaning as pain shot up my neck. Oh yeah, I’d definitely fallen asleep somewhere other than a bed.
Aidan’s face came into focus and I realized he was kneeling beside the couch in front of me. His hair was wet and he’d changed clothing. “I let you sleep.”
I bent my aching neck from side to side and yawned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He gave me an affectionate smile and reached out to push my hair off my face. “I think we all needed it.”
I glanced around his sitting room and frowned. “Where’s Sylvie?” Last night after pizza, we’d had a movie marathon to take our minds off reality. I didn’t remember falling asleep.
“I woke up about two hours ago, put her to bed, had a shower.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s only eight o’clock. I know you start work at ten so I was going to wake you soon, but you were having a nightmare …”
I frowned, trying to remember. “I was?”
He touched my knee, expression concerned. “You kept crying out my name. Like … you’d lost me or something.”
“I can’t remember,” I whispered, reaching down to take his hand. “But it does sound like a nightmare.”
He kissed my knuckles. “Breakfast?”
I nodded. “Let me help.”
In the end, I managed to convince him to sit his gorgeous butt on a stool while I puttered about his kitchen making omelets. We whispered to each other as I worked, attempting to keep the noise level down so as not to wake Sylvie.
“You look good in my kitchen,” Aidan said in a low voice, giving me a soft smile that did nothing to wipe away the sadness in the back of his eyes. I wished I had the power to make everything better. I’d take making him smile as a small win, though.
“Your kitchen is nicer than mine.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
I grinned cheekily at the reminder. “I’m still sorry about that.”
“Your friend needed you.”
“Yeah, she did. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t need you.”
“Need Uncle Aidan for what?”
I jumped, nearly dropping the spatula.
Sylvie had appeared out of nowhere, standing there in her pajamas, yawning and rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Do you want breakfast, sweetheart?” Aidan promptly asked, getting off his stool to go to her. Even though she was past the age for it, he swept her up into his arms like she was six years old and carried her over to a stool.
Sylvie yawned again. “Cereal.”
“Coming right up.”
While I finished fixing our breakfast, Aidan poured out Sylvie’s Cheerios and slid a glass of orange juice in front of her.
We ate in silence, but whether it was out of tiredness or the weight of knowing how temporary this moment was, I didn’t know. However, I soaked it up and I knew from the way Aidan kept throwing her glances that he was taking in every moment with his niece while he could.
“Did you sleep over, Nora?” Sylvie suddenly asked, peering around her uncle at me.
Not wanting her to get the wrong idea, I said, “We all fell asleep on the couch.”
She frowned and Aidan supplied before she could ask, “I woke up earlier and put you to bed.”
“Oh. Okay. Last night was fun.” She gave us a tired smile.
“Yeah,” Aidan said, smoothing a hand over her bedraggled hair. “It was.”
I looked away before I did the unthinkable and burst into tears.
Sylvie’s gaze moved from her uncle to me and then back to Aidan. “Can we do something today? All of us?”
“Nora has to work, sweetheart.”
Clearly disappointed, she slumped in her seat.
“I don’t have to,” I blurted out.
Aidan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”
“No. Maybe—” I coughed dramatically. “Yeah …” I coughed harder. “I’m definitely coming down with something.”
He grinned. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, it’s not contagious. I can still hang out with you guys.”
“Yay!” Sylvie beamed. “What should we do?”
“Well, first Nora will need to phone her boss and explain about this mysterious noncontagious illness.”
I shoved him playfully and jumped down off the stool. “Where’s my purse?”
“It’s not even nine o’clock yet. Will she be in?”
“Yup. Leah’s usually at the store by eight thirty.”
The buzzer for the apartment sounded as I found my purse and I looked over at Aidan in surprise. It was a little early for visitors. He frowned as he got off his stool to answer it. “Could be Laine,” he said. “She’s back from that job in Paris.”
I had no idea what job in Paris. I’m sure Aidan had probably mentioned it but I tended to switch off when Laine was mentioned. She still wasn’t forgiven for saying those humiliating things about me.
However, it wasn’t Laine.
“Aidan, it’s Cal,” the masculine voice crackled over the buzzer.
Aidan froze for a second and then reluctantly pressed the entrance button.
“Uncle Aidan, what’s Daddy doing here?” Sylvie said, slipping off the stool and hurrying over to him. Even though she was tall for her age, she’d never looked so young standing there in her Hello Kitty pajamas and slippers with her short hair a mass of tangled, golden silk. Her little face was pinched with worry.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I guess we’ll find out in a minute.”
After Aidan opened his apartment door, the three of us stood together. It occurred to me we were like soldiers on a front line, awaiting an enemy attack.
It wasn’t how we should have felt about Sylvie’s dad but it was how we’d been made to feel. If he’d only been honest with Aidan from the start, this whole damn thing might not have been so messy. Instead, there was a whole lot of resentment waiting for him in this apartment.
A fist appeared first to knock on the open door, and then Cal stepped inside, his smooth expression tightening as he took us in, standing with our legs braced and our arms crossed over our chests.
Following in behind him was a tall, attractive brunette. She wore an expensive-looking, tailored herringbone coat that fitted her slim figure to perfection, black leather gloves, and black heeled boots. Dangling from the elbow of one arm was a black Kate Spade handbag.
Her striking light gray eyes took us in and her pretty mouth pursed in displeasure.
Cal gave his daughter a weak smile. “Morning, baby doll.”
“Hi, Daddy. What are you doing here?” She looked up at him with too much suspicion and concern for a little girl.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Cal cleared his throat and spoke to Aidan, although he didn’t look him in the eye. “We need to talk. In private.”
“About what?”
Cal sighed heavily. “In private, Aidan.”
“And I asked, about what?”
His tone was the equivalent of the patio door sliding open and letting in the October morning chill.
Cal looked down at Sylvie. “Baby doll, why don’t you take Sally and show her your room?”
“No.” Aidan shook his head.
Cal scowled. “Sally, take Sylvie and get her washed and dressed.”
Sally made to move forward but Aidan held up a hand, warding her off. She was smart enough to stop. He spoke without taking his eyes off Cal and his fiancée. “Pixie, you take Sylvie into her room.”
And so I took a reluctant Sylvie away from whatever was happening out there, feeling uneasiness crash over me.