Page 31 of Takeover

“He wouldn’t eat anything, so you’re going to have to feed him,” the woman, who I assume is Lindsay, says.

“Anything else?” There’s an edge to Ethan’s voice. Even when we’ve argued, I’ve never heard him use that particular tone before.

“Maybe your daddy will let me have you again next weekend, baby,” Lindsay coos. “He only lets me have you once a month.” I can almost see the pout and I try not to roll my eyes. Anyone who tries to manipulate a kid to make herself a victim is scum in my eyes.

I hear a small whine from Vincent.

“I’ll bring you a special surprise from Sedona,” she says.

I guess a spa weekend was more important than her son.

“Bye, Mommy,” the sad little voice says.

“Bye, baby. I’ll call you every day until I see you again.” She plants loud kisses on him, and instead of the happy giggle I’m used to from him, all I hear is another whine.

“And where have you been, Ethan? You look like a hobo in that wrinkled shirt.”

“Have a safe flight, Lindsay.” I hear the clicking of heels across the marble floor, followed by the ding of the elevator. She says one last goodbye before I hear the elevator door open and shut.

“You hungry, buddy?” Ethan asks. I hear the sound of a kiss, and I picture him kissing the top of Vincent’s head the same way he did on Thanksgiving.

“I want Mommy,” the little boy whines, and my heart aches for him. I’ve been there, but I was a little older. I don’t know if that made me better off or not.

“I know you do. She’ll be back soon, and you know you can FaceTime her whenever you want. And guess what? We have a guest.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see. Our guest will be down any minute.” I run a hand through my high ponytail and adjust my glasses before walking down the stairs. I arrive to find Ethan cradling his son in his arms. Vincent’s face is in the crook of his father’s neck, and he’s still wearing his racecar pajamas.

“Hi, Vinnie,” I say, suddenly nervous at his reaction to me, especially after being dropped off early by his mom.

“Tara!” He practically jumps out of Ethan’s arms and runs to me. I pick him up and hold him tight.

“I missed you, buddy.” I savor his little boy scent and kiss the top of his head. “I just had to come see you.”

“Can we have a sleepover?”

“We sure can,” Ethan says.

“We’re going to have so much fun today, but first, we all need to eat breakfast. And your daddy needs to shower. How about I make breakfast for everyone?”

Vincent finally moves his face from my neck and looks at me. “No eggs. My daddy makes yucky eggs.” I look at Ethan, and he has the grace to blush.

“You know what? My daddy makes yucky eggs too, but then my stepmother taught me how to make delicious eggs. You remember the evil one, right? How about you help me. I’ll teach you how to make them, and you can teach your dad.”

He smiles wide and nods. Unable to stop myself, I tickle his belly and he squeals in delight.

“Can we have pancakes, too?”

“Yeah, we can,” I say without even asking Ethan if it’s okay. “You can help me find things in the kitchen.” I put him down and he runs to the back of the first floor, to where I assume the kitchen is.

As soon as he’s gone, Ethan closes all space between us. He plants a hand on my ass and pushes me into his body.

“I’m so glad I’ll never have to see you again after tomorrow. You’re like a blight on my existence,” he whispers. He runs his nose along my neck before planting a loud, wet kiss.

“I’d walk out of here right now if it wasn’t for the kiddo. I’m going to have a lot of fun with him and just ignore you.”

“Come on, Tara! I’m hungry!” Vincent screams from the back of the house.

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