Page 43 of Play For Keeps

“I do… and that’s the problem…” I exhale a deep breath.

“Are you afraid of something happening if you’re working in the same office together?”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” I admit.

“And would it be so terrible if it did?” Franny asks.

“I just think that bringing a man into Birdie’s life right now is a risk I’m not ready to take. What if she gets attached to him and then things go south with us?”

“Then we’ll all be here for her… and for you. Your parents, Violet, me. We’re your family now,” she says, patting my arm gently. “So, is that why I haven’t seen Jake around lately?”

My brow raises and a laugh escapes me. “Are you spying on me, Franny?”

“I know he walks you home at night after work.” She shrugs. “I’ve heard him in the hallway. I might peek through the peep hole sometimes. The man is seriously a work of art. Do you blame me?”

“I kissed him,” I confess. “I had him over for dinner last week and after Birdie went to bed, he kissed me.”

Franny’s eyes go wider than saucers. “Ahh. So, that’s why you’ve been so out of it.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip, hiding a smile. “I’ve been a little sidetracked ever since, I guess.”

“Then I don’t have to ask how the kiss was.”

My cheeks blaze hotter than a stove. “Franny, it was the perfect first kiss. It could never be topped.”

“Sounds like a once in a lifetime kiss to me.”

I try to ignore the tingle that floats up my spine but when my heart follows next, tumbling in slow motion to the bottom of my stomach, I know she’s right.

It was.

The week flies by in a blur as I take as many shifts as I can at the restaurant to make some extra money. It’s Birdie’s birthday next month and she wants a new bike. I also need to sign the contract and pay for this season’s dance classes that start in September since she’s decided she likes the studio and wants to commit to a company program. It means she’ll be dancing more hours, competing in the spring, and performing in a year-end recital. And dance isn’t cheap. But she’s made some great friends and I know the benefits of it firsthand. I grew up spending hours in a studio doing competitive dancing and I loved it. I want Birdie to have the same experience.

Being busy at work has given me an excuse to keep Jake at arm’s length. Maybe if I wasn’t so worried about falling for him, we could be spending more time together. He still shows up at the restaurant to walk me home when he knows I’m working late, but I’ve been careful not to cross any boundaries with him since the kiss. We’re friends. That’s it. I’m sure he wants to know where things stand between us. There were a couple of times I got the feeling he wanted to kiss me goodnight, but to his credit he’s been giving me space.

I still haven’t made good on the ice cream date I promised Birdie and Jake that night at my apartment. I’ve thought back to that evening so many times. It was so easy and comfortable. It was the polar opposite of the uptight, stupid dinner parties Grant liked to plan. In just a few short weeks, Jake gets me better than the man I married.

I turn my attention to Birdie, who is asleep in my arms on the couch. She fell asleep halfway through our movie, but I haven’t had the heart to move her even though my arm went numb 15 minutes ago. I can’t get enough of her little snores.

My phone lights up on the couch next to me and I groan inwardly when I see my mother-in-law’s name on the screen. Using my free hand, I swipe to read the message.

Miranda: Everly, I would like Birdie to come stay with us the weekend after her birthday. We are making plans to celebrate with the family.

I’ve never been away from Birdie for more than a night so a weekend without her makes me anxious. More than that, the thought of Birdie staying with the Billings without me scares me.

It’s not that Grant’s parents don’t love her; they just have a very different way of showing it. They buy her things, but they rarely actually spend time with her. Anytime she’s at their house, she ends up watching TV for hours by herself while their housekeeper makes sure she’s fed and taken care of.

Honestly, Birdie would probably love a party. What soon-to-be 8-year-old doesn’t want cake and presents? But part of me worries that Grant will find a way to disappoint her. He always does.

Will he even remember to show up? And if he does, will he bring his most recent flavor of the month?

The whole thing makes my skin crawl.

I look down at Birdie’s sleeping face, listening to the soft sounds of her breathing. I’ll talk to her about it and if she wants to go, I’ll let her.

I cradle her sleeping body against mine for a few more minutes before I gently lift her, carry her to her bedroom and tuck her into her bed for the night. She stirs when my lips brush over her forehead, but she turns on her side, drifting quickly back to sleep.

The weekend at Miranda’s is still weeks away, but I’m already dreading it.

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