Page 27 of Play For Keeps

“He saw his daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Over four months ago,” I mutter.

Franny sits up straighter in her chair. “Geez, that’s a long time.”

“He doesn’t care.”

“Maybe he was waiting for you to invite him to your new place?” Franny suggests.

I shake my head. “Grant Billings does not need an invitation to see his daughter. That man wouldn’t let anything stop him from getting what he wants. Trust me… if he wanted to see Birdie, he could have driven the two hours.”

“Has Birdie asked about him much?” Franny asks.

“Not as much as you would expect.” I shrug. “I think she’s distracted. When we’re at my parents, she’s excited to see them or when we go to the beach, she’s happy to be there. She’s busy. It helps.”

“Or when she’s running into Jake.” Franny eyes me over the rim of her wine glass.

I feel my cheeks heat. “How do you know about Jake?”

“Birdie told me.”

“Of course she did,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not what you think. We’re not dating.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “But if you wanted to, it would be okay. Not all men are like Grant.”

Maybe she’s right. But haven’t I proven that I have terrible taste in men? I obviously am a horrible judge of character; after all, I didn’t see the warning signs with Grant. What if I make the same mistake twice? I can’t do that to Birdie. One day she will realize the kind of man her father is—never making her a priority, forgetting her birthday, putting everyone else before his wife and child—and it scares the life out of me to think that she might ever believe she isn’t worthy of love.

“I’m scared to take that chance.”

“You’ll never know unless you do. And what a shame it would be to miss out on love. You have your best years ahead of you, Everly. You don’t want to live them alone.”

My mind wanders to Jake, as it often does these days. Jake, who has been patient, kind, and a perfect gentleman.

Zero red flags there.

I’m about to tell Franny that living alone beats having my heart — and Birdie’s—crushed, but then Birdie walks into the kitchen with a giant towel wrapped around her little body. So even though the conversation is far from over, it’s over for now.

I have the sweetest little 7-year-old to get ready for bed.

“When can we see Jake again?” Birdie asks as we’re getting our shoes on.

“I’m not sure, baby,” I say, tugging the laces on her runner. “He’s probably busy with work.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “Is Jake your boyfriend? I think I’d like it if he was.”

It has been a while since Birdie has asked about Jake, and I wondered if she had forgotten about him. But of course, Birdie remembers everything and everyone. She never forgets a thing. One day that fact will bite Grant in the ass, but that will be his problem and not mine.

But today Grant Billings is my problem.

I told Birdie there was a chance we’d meet her dad for lunch today over breakfast and her smile lit up her entire sweet face. Meanwhile, my heart lurched thinking about Birdie waiting patiently for her dad to show up only to be disappointed when he doesn’t.

As I sat and worried about every way today could go wrong and how I would handle it if that happened, Birdie ran to her room to make a card for her dad. And now it’s time to go see Grant. If he shows up. So, I’m surprised that Birdie is suddenly asking me about Jake.

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