Page 151 of The Best Men
“Who has yellowtail rolls and mackerel? This girl,” she calls out.
Valencia nods in the direction of her wife. “I’ll look up flights, and Zoe will handle the kitchen. Pack a bag and talk to Rosie. Quick!”
“Talk about what?” My daughter comes around the corner, probably to beg for a sleepover. Her hair is in a messy ponytail and red icing lines her cheekbone. I look at her?my baby girl.
And my heart tugs in another direction.
Rosie has always been my number one. From the very first time I held her, I knew I’d never let her down if I could help it.
“What, Daddy?” she asks, cocking her head. “What’s wrong.”
“Nothing. Everything is fine.” I sit back down as Zoe crosses into the kitchen with a wave. “It’s just that Asher is sad, baby. I was supposed to go to Paris for the weekend to see him.”
She marches into the room and slides onto my knee. “Why don’t you go?”
“Because you needed me too.” I give a little tug on her ponytail. “And you’re my number one. Always.”
“I knowthat.” She shrugs her narrow shoulders. “But maybe Asher needs you a little. He’s your number two, right? You could go and I could stay with Alba.”
“Only if you’re sure,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. “I’d come home on Sunday night, or maybe Monday. But no later.”
“And you’ll call me from Paris?”
“Of course.”
She looks me right in the eye. “And you’ll bring me those chocolates from the airport? In the shape of the Eiffel Tower?”
Valencia snorts. “Work it, girl. Work it.”
“I’ll take some macarons,” Zoe calls out.
“Possibly,” I hedge to Rosie. “That was a lot of chocolate. I might have to choose a smaller treat.”
“Fine.” She gives me a cherubic smile. “Bring one for Alba too.”
And now, I can go. “It’s a deal.” I set her on the couch, kiss her on the head, and run to my room to pack.
Ten minutes later, I’m in a cab.
52
SEX, LOVE, AND CAMEMBERT
ASHER
It’s. Just. Too. Bright.
The sun aims its morning death rays my way, blaring at fifty thousand watts through the bedroom window.
That’s . . . weird.
I always shut the drapes at night since, well, sleep is my second-favorite activity, after sex.
I rub my eyes, push up on my elbows.
Must be early, but I can’t find my phone to check the time. Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head as I sit up, then get out of bed to shut the curtains so I can sleep some more.
Maybe I could sleep the whole day away. What better way to spend my lonely birthday? As I trudge to the window, I glance down.
