Page 29 of Play For Keeps

Grant’s eyebrows shoot up. This is going to go over well. Luckily, I could care less what he thinks.

“She is, is she?” he gives me a mocking look, then shakes his head at me like I’m a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe. I knew that was coming. It’s a look I’ve seen plenty of times before.

I’m not having this conversation with him because I know exactly how it’s going to go, so I change the subject, telling him instead about Birdie’s teacher and all the great things she has to say about our daughter while we wait for our drinks.

“So where are you living?” Grant asks, cutting off my weak attempts at small talk.

“I found us an apartment here in town,” I say. “Birdie likes it. We have a great neighbor, and there’s a park nearby.”

“So, you left the estate, where you and Birdie had everything you could ever possibly want or need, so that you could live in some shitty apartment in this shitty town? I don’t get it.”

I shake my head but try to maintain my composure. The guy is seriously clueless. If he thinks I would ever live under the same roof as him again, he’s out of his mind.

I think to the night I finally decided to divorce him. I was at home in the kitchen making myself tea before bed when I got a call from a friend of mine who saw Grant walking into a hotel. He was with two women who I later found out he picked up at a bar. The three of them went upstairs to a room. It wasn’t the first time he had cheated on me, but it was the first time someone other than me had caught him. I was humiliated. That was the final straw.

“Here y’all go. I hope you’re hungry.” Our server returns with our food, sliding the plates in front of us. I slice Birdie’s hamburger in two and the three of us eat in near silence, the only conversation coming from Birdie, who talks a mile a minute about school and dance and her new friends. Grant listens to her but seems more occupied with his phone, which he keeps checking every 10 seconds.

“Can I have dessert?” Birdie asks once we’ve finished our meals.

“I need to talk to your mom for a second,” Grant says. “Why don’t you check out the swing set and you can have dessert after.”

Birdie looks to me for approval. “It’s fine if you’d like to go play,” I tell her, ruffling her blonde curls, and then she’s off through the open doors to the patio.

I can already tell this conversation is not going to go well. As soon as Birdie is outside, Grant’s eyes narrow on mine and I notice the vein in his neck that looks like it’s ready to explode.

“A waitress? Really, Evy? What do you know about waiting tables? You haven’t cleaned a table in your life. I paid someone to do that for you, or have you forgotten?”

He is such an ass. I cooked dinner for him almost every night of the week and cleaned up afterwards. He just never bothered to notice. And the someone he’s referring to is Ida, Birdie’s nanny, and the family’s housekeeper. I don’t think I’ve heard him call her by her name.

“I’m not arguing with you over this, Grant. My job is really none of your business.”

“We need to talk.”

“Now? You haven’t seen your daughter in over four months, wouldn’t you rather spend this time with her?” I ask, annoyance seeping through my voice.

“I want my daughter back in Brookmont. I want to see my kid.”

“I’ve never stopped you.”

He huffs out a breath. “You live two hours away.”

“And what was your excuse for never seeing her when you lived in the same house as her?” I deadpan.

“Everly,” he bites back. “I’m not asking you. I am telling you.”

“Grant, allow me to remind you… you agreed to this. Would you like to tell me why you’re not in North Carolina?”

“Don’t push me, Evy.”

I sigh. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Grant. You have no power over me anymore.”

He narrows his eyes at me. I’ve clearly struck a nerve. Grant is used to getting what he wants, but this time I’m fighting back.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he snaps, jabbing his index finger into the table. “I will call my lawyer the second I walk out of here.”

“Don’t threaten me, Grant.” I sit up straighter in my chair. I refuse to be intimidated by him. I doubt that he actually cares about seeing Birdie more often. Grant just likes to win. And right now, he feels like he’s losing. I doubt a judge would side with Grant. But the Billings have money, so the possibility of them fighting me in court isn’t out of the question. My stomach turns at the thought.

“Then move back home and stop your childish behaviour.”

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