Page 58 of Delicate Storm

After pressing another kiss to my forehead, Dad rushes off. He got what he wanted while I’m left staring at the door he raced out of, wondering what the hell I just got myself into. Easton and I may have come to terms with the fact that I’m the daughter of his team’s new owner, but working closely with his team is another hurdle entirely.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Easton

Where the hell are they?I pace the hall near the front door, my body tense as I stew over what I’m going to do.

We agreed on seven p.m. How hard is it to make a fucking phone call and—

“They’re here,” Mom announces, confusing me.

“What do you mean, they’re here? I’m at the door.”

“Yes, but Macy doesn’t know what floor you live on; the concierge just called.”

“They did?” My gaze shifts to the intercom near where she’s standing and I frown. I didn’t hear it.

Mom hits me with an expression to match my own and steps closer. “Want me to go down?”

“No, I need to do it.” Mom scrunches her face, and I know what’s coming next so I get in first. “I’m not going to make a scene in front of Isaac. I know better than that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you would. I just think you need a second to—”

“Please don’t tell me to calm down. It’s eight p.m. and my son’s been missing with someone I trust less than a weather forecast. I’m allowed to be tense.”

“You’re right. You go down. They’ll be waiting.”

I stare at her for a few seconds before taking a deep breath in, rolling my shoulders, and releasing it, watching as Mom’s concerned expression morphs into a smile. “Better?” I ask.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“I’ll be back.”

The elevator ride is slower than usual, and I find myself wishing I had someone here to distract me. But Mom doesn’t need to get wrapped up in my drama, and Keeley left as soon as she got out of the pool. She didn’t even stay for dinner. Just used me for my facilities and disappeared. Which, honestly, was for the best. I don’t need her opinion on things with Macy.

The elevator stops on level six, and I glare as an old man takes his time getting in. Isaac spent the day with Macy. A few extra seconds isn’t going to make a difference to him, yet I’m anxious as hell. What if he hated it? What if she spent their time together the same way she spent our relationship—focused on herself—forcing him to tag along in his stroller.

When we finally reach the lobby, the deep breath I took to calm myself is a distant memory as the tension coils around my middle. If Isaac isn’t the happiest kid on the fucking planet when I see his face, I’m going to expect answers.

The doors open, and my heart stops until the crowd parts and Isaac’s eyes meet mine. His face lights up and he takes off in a run, almost knocking into a man that cut in front of him.

“Daddy.”

I race forward to meet him halfway, lifting him into the air as he crashes into my arms. “Hey Buddy. Did you have a good day?”

“I had a chocolate petsel for dinner.” A chocolate pretzel?The fuck?

“You’re a lucky boy, aren’t you?” I smile through my anger. Macy only quit full-time motherhood a few months ago and she’s already forgotten how to do it.

Speaking of the devil, Macy joins us and hands over the stroller and Isaac’s backpack, greeting me with a wide smile, making me fight not to give her a piece of my mind.

“Macy.” I nod instead, my body tense from holding back.

“Easton. How was your luxurious day to yourself?”

My what? Clenching my fists, I smile at Isaac before letting it drop when I face her. “I had a busy day and I missed this little man. You’re late.”

“Relax. It was an hour. We were having fun. Weren’t we?”

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