Page 53 of Play Dirty

I laugh. “No, it’s a grown-up movie.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t like grown-up movies.”

“I know. I don’t either.”

“Daddy!” Martin comes in wearing little blue swim trunks and neon-green arm floaties around his biceps. “Are we going swimming?”

“Give me two minutes to say hi to Grandma and put on my bathing suit,” he replies.

“Hello.” A beautiful woman, probably in her fifties, comes into the kitchen. “I’m Patty, Marty’s mom.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Stevie.”

“You’re just as beautiful in person as you are in pictures,” Patty says.

“Thank you.”

“I always imagined supermodels were just regular women with good bone structure so they could photoshop everything—but that is not the case with you.”

I flush. “That’s very sweet. I appreciate it.”

“You two must have had a long night,” she says. “Are you hungry?”

“We got breakfast on the way,” Marty tells her. “I’m going to go change. But I’ll be down in five.”

“Tell me about your video,” Patty says as she pours milk into a sippy cup for Emma.

“It was for a rapper named Li’l Barracuda. He was nice, everyone was professional, and it wasn’t hard, but it was long. A lot of takes, a lot of waiting between shots. We didn’t get done until six.”

Patty grimaces. “That’s a long night.”

“But it’s done now. And I’m grateful to be back in the thick of things. I put my career on hold for a while after my injury last year.”

Patty meets my gaze. “I read about it. Are you okay?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally—I’m getting there.”

“Marty’s been through a tough time with Brenna,” Patty says quietly. “If anyone understands relationship trauma, it’s him.”

“He’s been wonderful,” I admit. “I didn’t think I was ready to start dating, but Marty isn’t like other guys.”

“He’s not,” his mother agrees. “I may be biased, but Brenna didn’t deserve him. I never liked her. I tolerated her because Marty loved her, and I hoped she would grow into the woman he deserved, but she never did. My only regret in this divorce is the children. This has been so hard on them.”

“They seem happy,” I say, gazing over to where Martin is helping Emma put on her water shoes.

“They’re good kids, and Marty’s a great dad. That’s why he wants custody. I just don’t know how he’ll manage. I’m not retired yet, so moving to L.A. would be difficult for me. Otherwise, I’d come here in a heartbeat to help out.”

“What do you do?” I ask politely.

“I’m a professor. I teach humanities at a local college back home.”

“Would it be hard for you to get a job here?”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking about it, but if Marty doesn’t get custody…” She sighs. “Anyway, welcome to our home. I hope the kids don’t wear you out today.”

I laugh. “I’ll be fine. Emma and I are buddies, right, Emma?”

“Hi, Auntie Stevie!” Emma waves happily.

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