Page 52 of The Hottest Daddy
Aria smiled at him gratefully and then grinned at Sunday. “You know, if I didn’t love you both as a couple, I’d be fighting you for him.”
Sunday laughed. “Hey, if you could just wait until he gets too old and decrepit for me, which should be any time now …”
They all laughed as River gave them a hangdog look. “My loving wife, ladies.”
Sunday leaned over to kiss him. “Always, baby.”
Sunday was packing up the office which had become her second home over the past year when River came to find her. “Hey, snooks, you have a visitor.”
She was surprised. “I do?”
“Come see.”
She walked into the living and exclaimed with pleasure. “Jack!”
Her boss from her old news station in New York hugged her. “Hey, beauty, good to see you.”
“What are you doing in Colorado?” Sunday saw a look exchanged between her old boss and her new husband. “Uh-oh … is this an intervention?”
“Kinda,” Jack said as they sat down. “Kiddo … I have a proposition for you.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Jack smiled. “I know you’re writing the book about River’s family, his past, that sorry excuse of a stepmother. I hear your publishers want it out to coincide with Angelina Marshall’s trial.”
“They do,” Sunday said carefully. She looked at River. “You in on this?”
Her husband grinned at her. “Just listen to the man, babe.”
Jack chuckled. “Well, we’re thinking … a five-part series. Documentary about the Giotto’s … and you. You must know, people are intrigued about you, Scanlan, what he did to you, why you gave up your life … and then found a better one.”
Sunday chewed her lip. “Jack … you know I’ve always been one of those journalists who doesn’t put myself in the story. I’m not … I don’t like the spotlight on me. I research and report the news.”
“Come on, now, you were anchor.”
“Because it gave me the freedom and position to do the stories I wanted to. I’m not sure …” she sighed. “River, what do you think?”
He leaned forward. “Baby … I think it’s a positive, great thing. I know we both said we’re past it all and the truth is … I don’t think you are. You’ve never broken down, never yelled, screamed, cried, or wallowed in self-pity. But you’ve also never said it’s over. Scanlan is still in your head. This, I think—I know—would be cathartic. And you get to tell our story. The truth. For us. For our family.”
Sunday was silent for a long time. “When do you need an answer by?”
“Two weeks,” Jack said. “Two weeks if we’re going to get it done by the time Angelina goes to trial.”
“Won’t they object to us telling things they’re hearing in the trial?”
“Most of it is in the public domain anyway.”
Sunday looked at her old boss. “Freelance.”
“Of course.”
She looked away from him and stared out of the window for a beat. “Cory’s family get a say.”
“Fine.”
“And we’re still moving to Italy. I can fly back and forth.” She looked at River, who nodded.
“We’ll make it work.”
