Page 49 of Stone

“Love you, Daddy Gabe.”

Oriana and I haven’t uttered those three little words yet, but when I take that last glance at her before I make to leave, our eyes meet, and it’s clear with the way we look at each other that we’re not a million miles away from that moment.

Oriana

“Come on, eat up.” I start to clear away the rest of the plates while Sasha shoves around the last pieces of fruit on her plate.

“Finished,” she raises her hands up. She’s a sticky mess, but God, she’s an angel. “Go to park now?”

“Not in your PJs, cheeky girl.” I take her dishes, rinse them, and pop them into the dishwasher.

“Can I wear my fairy shoes?” Her eyes are wide, her head tilted to one side and a forced smile while she awaits my decisions. She’s so smart, and certainly knows how to turn the charm on. Must run in the Parish family.

“You could, but what if you scuff them and the glitter comes off? They wouldn’t be so pretty anymore.” The countertop cleared and wiped; I walk around to lift her down from the stool. “Don’t you think it would be better to wear your pink sneakers.”

“They’re old and dirty,” she sticks out her bottom lip.

“My point exactly. Save your pretty shoes for dress days. Park days are pants and top days, you know that.”

“Okay,” she huffs in agreement. “Can I have an ice cream?”

“Hey, you’ve only just finished your breakfast,” I laugh at her. “Maybe later, now come on, let’s go get cleaned up and ready to go.”

“Race you?” she shouts out loud before heading for the stairs.

* * *

By the timewe’re dressed in our comfy, practical outfits for the park, it’s nine-forty-five, so we make our way downstairs to get our coats and shoes on.

When my foot hits the bottom step, I catch sight of a brown envelope that looks to have been pushed under the door. While Sasha heads for the shoe cupboard to grab her sneakers, I walk over and pick up the envelope from the floor. We get mail that comes via the clubhouse, but this has no stamp. It has no address or name either, and as it’s not even sealed; I flip open the flap and pull out the single thick piece of paper inside.

“Sasha,” I say with a shake to my voice. “Forget your shoes, we’re going to go to the park tomorrow instead.”

“Aww,” she cries as she walks towards me, feet stomping, arms crossed, scowl on her face.

At that moment, there’s a knock at the door. My hand instinctively goes to the door, but I hesitate and peek through the spy hole first. It’s Cub.

“Yeah, Cub’s here,” I swing open the door to let him in. The smile on his face instantly drops when he sees my worried expression. “He so wants to learn the words to the Little Mermaid, so I said that you would teach him.”

“Yeah Sasha, is that okay?” he shouts at the retreating Sasha, who’s gone to sulk on the couch. We get a single huff in return. “What’s going on?” Cub drops his voice, so Sasha can’t hear.

“I need to see Stone.”

“He’s down at the clubhouse. I’ll call him.” He slips his phone out of his pocket, and he goes to make the call.

“No, don’t do that.” I shoot out my hand to stop him. “It’s urgent. Watch Sasha until I get back.” I’m already wearing a pair of sliders that I use for around the house, so they’ll suffice. I turn to leave.

“Seriously, Oriana. Stone made it clear that he doesn’t want you down there. You can’t go,” he warns.

“Watch me,” I throw over my shoulder as I walk through the door with the envelope firmly in my hand.

I speedwalk down the track, jog up the steps and push my way through the heavy wood door. The stench of pot, stale beer, and sex hits me the same way it did on the day I came to get myself a job. Wow, I never thought that I’d end up falling head over fucking heels for my biker boss.

The place is empty except for a redhead that’s at the far side of the room, wiping down the bar top.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be here,” she shouts over aggressively, slapping the wet cloth to the surface. As I walk over towards her, she tilts her head to one side as she takes me in. “You’re the nanny, the one that’s got Stone pussy whipped.”

“Oriana,” I reply, not sure if she actually knows my real name. “What makes you think I got him whipped?” I ask because… why not.

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