Page 17 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“Well, goals are good for sure, but there’s always a choice. You could do the same thing I did—walk away—just let it go, you know, for the sake of something more important.”
Staring out the kitchen window at the waves rolling on the Atlantic, I shook my head. “I made this promise to myself when I was a kid, living in one grubby apartment after the other, just praying I didn’t get shot or knifed on my way home from school every day, that I wasn’t going to quit till I got out of there and changed my lot in life, till I was on top of the world instead of under its bootheel. I’d never have made it through even that first fight if I’d been a quitter. I sure as hell wouldn’t be the defending heavyweight champ of the world. Besides… this is what I do. It’s my job. It’s my passion. It’s who Iam.”
“Right. I get it,” Wilder said. “It’s just… well, I learned when I was over in Somalia, you only get so many days here on this earth. You never know when you wake up each morning if it’ll be your last. Just make sure you’re spending each one the way you want to.”
I nodded. I wasn’t surewhatI wanted. My vision for my life used to be crystal clear.
Fight. Win. Claim the prizes—all of them.
Now… everything felt topsy-turvy. My thinking wasn’t clear. All I knew was that my daughters had to be okay.
And that I had to take the fight.
When Wilder left, I picked up the phone again and called Anouk. It was the only solution to my dilemma.
The phone rang so many times I thought it would go to voicemail—again—but then she finally answered.
“Sullivan. What do you want?”
“Hey. Listen, I know you’re probably still out of the country but there’s something I need to talk to you about. I’m gonna have to take another fight pretty soon.”
“And?” She didn’t sound all that interested.
“Well, you know what training is like. It’s gonna take up all my time. And I thought… well, I had an idea. What if you were to come to Eastport Bay? The house here has a lot of space. You could move in—just for the summer—just until the fight. You and the girls could explore the mansions and go to Boston and New Hampshire for daytrips. The beaches here are great, and you’ve got plenty of good restaurants and spas and stuff, a bunch of cute little shops I bet you’d love.”
There was a long pause. When she responded, her tone was filled with exaggerated patience. “Sully… there’s areasonI gave you full custody for the next three months.”
“Whoa—wait—are you getting remarried?”
“What? No.” She laughed. “I like my freedom too much. Even if I wanted to play ‘happy family’ again, I couldn’t. I’m in Italy now. I’m working.”
“I thought you were in St. Croix.”
“I was, but Itoldyou about the swimsuit campaign. We’re shooting for the next week. And it looks like it’s going to lead to some runway work in Milan. I’ll have to go straight there from here. I haven’t been there in ages.”
“When exactly were you planning to come back and visit your children?” I asked.
“Don’t try to guilt-trip me. It won’t work. Ididmy time with them. Now it’s your turn.”
“You make it sound like being in prison or something,” I snorted in disgust. “They’re not a life sentence—they’re ourchildren.They need someone to take care of them while I train.”
“You’re a smart guy. You’ll figure it out. Hey, I’ve gotta go. I’m on the set, and Lorenzo is getting impatient. Ciao.”
And she hung up.
If I didn’t know what a pain in the ass it would be to replace it, I would have crushed the phone in my bare hand. The woman didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.
But I’d have to find someone who did. Fast.
Chapter Five
Dreams
Angelina
A question burned on my tongue, spinning through my mind on a constant loop since the Wessex party yesterday.
But I hadn’t dared ask it of Mother. She didn’t like questions.
