Love

Stung

By:

Brooke St. James

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

Copyright © 2017

Brooke St. James

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Other titles available from Brooke St. James:

Another Shot:

A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story

When Lightning Strikes

Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)

Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)

Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)

Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)

Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)

Shot by Cupid's Arrow

Dreams of Us

Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)

Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)

California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)

Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)

It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)

Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)

Dear California (Martin Family #2)

My One Regret (Martin Family #3)

Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)

Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)

Almost Christmas

JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #1)

Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #2)

So Much for Boundaries (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #3)

Suddenly Starstruck (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #4)

Chapter 1

I was numb and exhausted as I rode the elevator up to my New York City apartment. It had been an extremely long day. It was after 10pm, and I had been gone from my apartment since 8 o'clock that morning. My neck and shoulders were so tight that they ached even when I was standing completely still. I stared at the elevator door as I made my slow journey upward.

It had been less than a year since I left Connecticut to start a life in New York. My older sister, Macy, had been living in an artist community, and I knew she'd be looking for a roommate when she moved out, so I volunteered. I had always wanted to move to the city, anyway, so it seemed like perfect timing.

Macy and I shared a two-bedroom apartment. I automatically got the larger of the two rooms since I came with an almost-five-year-old and all of the gear and toys that came with her. My daughter, Isabel, was born when I was eighteen, and she has been the center of my universe ever since. That was getting harder to manage recently since my hours at work had increased significantly during the last few months.

I loved that little girl with all my heart, though, and I hated days like this where I barely got to see her at all. I was thinking about my little peanut, and feeling sad that she was already tucked in for the night when the elevator came to a wobbly stop and dinged as the doors opened.

That wasn't the only thing bothering me, either. I walked down the hall toward my apartment, uncontrollably replaying a certain scene from earlier in my day and feeling sick at the memory of it.

"What's the matter?" Macy asked as soon as I opened the door. I could tell by the way she spoke quietly that Isabel was sleeping in the other room.

"Nothing," I said with a forced smile. "I'm just tired."

"You're annoyed, too," she said, knowing me.

"No, I'm not," I lied. "I'm just tired."

I kicked off my shoes and crossed the living room, headed toward the kitchen. "Thank you for watching Isabel," I said.

Macy was sitting on the couch and she turned to look at me with an appraising glance from over her shoulder. She was my sister, and I could tell by the way she looked at me that she knew there was something more to my mood than just exhaustion. I was usually able to conceal my frustration about work, but tonight I was too torn up to do anything but spill my guts.

"I can't stand my district manager," I said. "I just can't stand it anymore." To my own horror, my words came out breathless and shaky. I hated that it made me nervous talking about him. I was paranoid where my boss was concerned—like he was somehow able to hear what I was saying if I talked about him behind his back. I instinctually looked over my shoulder just to make sure he wasn't standing behind me.

"What's going on with your district manager?" Macy asked.

That showed how little I talked about him in spite of the fact that he'd been a pain in the neck for the last three months of my life.

"Nothin'," I said. I had been heading in the direction of the kitchen, but instead of continuing on that path, I stepped around the arm of the couch and collapsed onto the soft cushions next to my sister. It was all I could do to keep from crying, and I stared at the ceiling tiles in a desperate attempt to keep tears from welling in my eyes. I could feel Macy staring at the side of my face, but I didn't dare look at her. Instead, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as if I was exhausted, which I was. I let my head rest on the back of the couch, and the transition of my head from upright to resting position caused a sharp pain to go through my neck.

The combination of my stiff neck, aching feet, and attitude of regret caused uncontrollable tears to form in my closed eyes. Before I could do anything to stop it, a huge tear escaped the corner of my eye, trailing down the side of my face and underneath my ear. I reached up and wiped it quickly and nonchalantly as if swiping a piece of fuzz off of my cheek.

"You have got to look for another job," Macy said, sincerely. "It's not worth it. You can find something else. I was at Drake's earlier, and he totally tripped out over your dolls. He said you could make a business out of selling those things."

I vaguely registered what Macy was saying, but I had been so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I didn't even really hear her.

"I know I'll take a major pay cut if I go anywhere else," I said. "And I might not have any benefits for me and Isabel—at least not as good as the ones I have at Patterson & Ray. I wouldn't have a reference, so I'd have to start from square one."

"Why wouldn't you have a reference from Patterson & Ray?" she asked.

I could hear her, but my eyes were still closed, and now my arm was resting over them. "Because," I said.

"You've been nothing but loyal to them for like the last eight years," she said.

"Six-and-a-half," I said.

"Same difference. They owe you a good referral. What's the problem?"

"He wouldn't give it to me," I said, after a long pause.

"Who?"

I glanced at her. "J.R."

"Who's J.R.?" she asked with a perplexed look on her face.

"The district manager."

"That's his name? J.R.? You never told me that."

"Because I don't talk about him."

"Has he been giving you grief the whole time you've been at the New York store?"

I shook my head. "He just moved here a few months ago. He used to manage one of the big Milwaukee stores, and he got promoted to this district manager job when John left." It seriously left me breathless to talk about him. I was sitting on the couch, doing absolutely no cardio whatsoever, yet I felt like I had just run up several flights of stairs.

"What in the world is wrong with you?" Macy asked, squinting at me with concern.

I smiled and sighed, closing my eyes again. "Nothing," I said. "I’m just tired, and he rubs me the wrong way, that's all." I considered the nature of my relationship with J.R., and realized my choice of words was awkward and embarrassing, so I instantly began babbling. "He's fine. It's fine. It's all good. I'm thankful that I have a good job and everything. And benefits."

My sister's hand reached out to touch my thigh, and I let out a little involuntary gasp, pulling away and glancing at her like she might be crazy. Macy returned my expression, telling me without saying a word that I was overreacting.

"I just don't like him," I said. "And I know he'd be mad if I looked for another job. He wouldn't give me a reference, that's for sure."

"Then go to human resources, or go above his head."

"I can't. I really can't. It would just be… I can't do that."

It must have come across that I was sad or scared by the way I was talking, because Macy forced me to look directly into her eyes and stared at me with concern. "Tabitha," she said in a motherly tone. "Has this guy hurt you?"

"No," I said simply, after taking a few seconds to think about a longer answer. "But it wouldn't be a fond farewell, either."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know he wouldn't be too happy with me for quitting."

"Well, that's not his choice, is it?"

"It kind of is when I need a good referral from Patterson & Ray if I'm gonna get another job. J.R. happens to be the person who's directly responsible for doing that."

Macy was quiet for several long seconds. She was silent for so long that I had no idea what she was going to say once she finally spoke. "Can you please tell me why you're so shaken up?" she asked, touching my hand, which was resting on the couch between us. I wanted to pull away, but I knew Macy would think that was weird—especially after what I did earlier.

"I'm not, I'm just… Uhhhhhh. I just wish I could rewind time and do everything differently. I should have handled everything differently. I hate the choices I've made."

"You mean with work?" she asked.

I considered telling her everything right then and there, but my bravery was followed by a wave of embarrassment that caused me to keep my mouth closed.

"I'm just tired," I said. I massaged my eyebrows as if the motion might erase the thoughts from my head. "Oh my gosh, no," I whispered as I pictured myself with J.R. earlier that day. The feeling of regret that washed over me when I pictured the scene was tangible enough to cause me to mumble the words of regret out loud. I hadn't even meant to do it.

"Oh my gosh, no what, Tabitha?" Macy asked. "Why'd you say that?"

"I can't believe everything I've allowed. It happened so gradually that…" I trailed off, feeling too embarrassed to continue. I had a hard time trying to decide what and how much I should say. "I should have been able to figure out a way to stop him before it got to this point. It's my fault. I think something's wrong with me."

"Don't say that. That's not true, Tab. What happened? Is that guy being inappropriate with you?"

"I basically give him permission," I said weakly. I felt hopeless and frustrated. "He's been doing it since he first came here, and I've been going along with it the whole time. It's been building really gradually, and I definitely wouldn't have... It's my fault. I should have known how to handle it before it came to this."

"Came to what?"

"What's worse is that it seems like he delights in seeing me work over time—it's like he wants to make me live at the store. Even when he's not in the there, he asks about my hours and finds reasons to call, like he thinks the store would die if I'm not there every second it's open. We've fired three different employees since he took over—just at our store. Part timers, but still. I can't catch a break." I let out a long sigh, deciding how much more I wanted to say. "I'm just frustrated because somehow letting him flirt with me turned into this touchy feely stuff. It started being revolting long ago." My words got stuck in my throat and came out as little more than a whisper.

"Touchy feely stuff?" She asked the question stiffly as if the idea horrified her. "Is he touching you?"

All the blood rushed out of my face at her question. I honestly felt like I wanted to throw up.

"Is he?" she asked, still looking mortified. She sat up on the couch with the appearance of someone who was about to storm out of the apartment in search of the creep who had done this to me.

"It's me," I said. "I'm the one who let him."

"Let him what?"

I covered my face with my hands, feeling like I wanted to go hide in a closet for the rest of my life.

"Did he force you to sleep with him?" Macy asked.

"No!" I said staring at her like how could you even ask such a thing.

"Well, you're looking like you're dying over there," she said, defending herself.

"I'm not dying, I just hate the situation I'm in. I don't want to stay there, and I don't feel like I can quit. You know I can't afford to lose my benefits with Isabel."

My daughter had a few minor health issues resulting from her premature birth, and part of it was that sometimes her body wasn't quite able to handle regular childhood sicknesses like the flu or strep throat. She was petite for her age, and it was harder for her little body to fight infections. Sometimes, she would begin to dehydrate, so I'd have to take her to the hospital so they could give her fluids and monitor her. It had happened five or six times since she had been born, but the doctors all said it was something she'd likely outgrow. We'd also recently been to the hospital for a broken arm—Isabel still had a cast on her arm from that.

All this to say, I was in a position where I needed health insurance. Through hard work and dedication, I had moved up at Patterson & Ray, and now earned a good living and health insurance for my daughter and myself. I felt sick at the thought of giving that up.

Patterson & Ray was one of America's most iconic clothing lines, and I had a full-time management position at their largest New York location. I thought taking that job and moving to the city was the beginning of great things for Isabel and me. And honestly, it seemed like that was going to be the case—right up until J.R. Granger took the job as district manager.

Chapter 2

"You don't have to put up with this," Macy said. "They owe you a good referral after all you've done for that company."

Her demeanor was so impassive that I just shook my head, telling her to simmer down. I massaged my eyebrows, feeling like other than my sister and my daughter, I wanted my whole life to just disappear. Start over. Clean slate. No being a pushover, or a glutton for punishment, or whatever I was.

"Why do I let guys talk me into doing stuff I don't want to do?" I asked my sister. I felt desperate with regret and embarrassment at the thought of that guy's hands on me. "I'm not even attracted to him, not even in the least, and I just stood there and let him…" I trailed off, feeling utterly disgusted with myself. "He probably thinks I like it," I said.

"What does he do to you, Tab?"

"I'm not telling you," I said. "It's gross and it's embarrassing. I don't even like him."

"What's he do, Tab?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me or I'm gonna assume the worst."

"What's the worst?" I asked.

"The R word," she said with wide eyes.

I managed a fleeting smile at her intensity. "Well, he didn't 'the R word' me," I assured her. "I told you we didn't do that."

"Did he touch you?" she asked.

She stared at me intently from her place next to me on the couch, and I nodded almost imperceptibly. It was painful and humiliating, but I nodded. I could feel myself begin to sweat at the rush of regret.

"It's been building slowly since he moved here. It's not like he just busted right in and started grabbing me."

"Does he grab you now?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I wouldn't call it grabbing," I said. "But he touches me. And I let him. Oh my gosh, I let him."

I paused and rubbed my face again. I knew I would regret spilling my guts to my sister, but there was no longer anything I could do to hold the truth inside. "It started with a little flirting," I explained. "He'd just brush up against me on his way around a display, or touch my back when he walked by me. But I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was trying to flirt with me. And, he's my boss, you know? I definitely didn't encourage it, but I also didn't tell him to stop, either. I didn't feel like I should be rude. I thought it was harmless and it wouldn't really amount to anything."

I hesitated long enough that Macy said, "But what?"

"But fast forward a few months, and his hand is no longer on my back, but now on my inner thigh." My stomach clinched at the memory of it. I hated the memory of it. "I should have stood up for myself right at the start, and now it's gone on so long that I can't end it without being completely awkward. I don't know how he manages to get us in scenarios where that kind of exchange is even possible, but he does," I said. "I don't even like him, and yet I stand there and smile while he… oh my gosh, I don't want to even think about it. I don't know why he ever moved here in the first place. I don't know why he picked me out of all the other girls there, or why I can't just stand up for myself."

"Stop talking like that, Tab. You aren't to blame. He's using his authority to take advantage of you. It's not you, it's him."

"I can't believe I'm even telling you any of this," I said. "I should have just kept my mouth shut about it. I'm gonna regret saying anything. I was just so mad that it came to that today. Plus, J.R. let go of Anthony yesterday. That's why I had to stay and close tonight. I hate it when I don't get to see Isabel before she goes to sleep."

"I'm glad you told me," Macy said. She reached out and lovingly shook my thigh in a gesture to let me know she was there for me. I offered her a sad smile, and she returned the expression. "I'm your sister, Tab."

My face was flaming hot, and I held the backs of my fingers on it just to try to cool my cheeks. "I know, and if there's anyone I feel like I could tell, it would be you. It's humiliating, though, Mace. You wouldn't understand. You and I are different people. You're getting married to someone whose literally rich and famous. You're in a little different situation than a single mom who's pretending to be into her boss even though she doesn't even like him."

"The fact that you don't like him lets me know that he's taking advantage of you."

"Yeah, but I'm letting him. It's not like he's got a gun to my head."

"He might as well," she said. "He knows your livelihood and your health insurance hang in the balance."

"Yeah, but it's not like he's even threatening me with those things," I said. "He just started acting like he liked me, and I felt too guilty to not act as if I liked him back."

"Tab, I hear what you're saying, and I see how it seems that way to you right now since you're in the midst of it, but honestly, you need to stop making excuses for this guy. I'm your sister, and I know you well enough to know you're too nice sometimes. You hate confrontation so much that sometimes you get yourself into predicaments."

I felt even more embarrassed at her words. "Like I said, it's my fault. If I don't have the strength to stand up for myself, then I deserve the situation I'm in."

"You need to stop," Macy said. "You need to take a step back. Count to ten. Breathe."

We were silent for what must have been a full minute after that.

"You know what? No harm done," Macy said finally. "Seriously. He's a creep. It took you until now to realize it. You needed to speak up, and now you're speaking up. Onward and upward from here."

"I'm not speaking up about anything," I said. "I'm doing my best to forget about it and convince myself that will be the last time it ever happens. I really do hate myself."

"I don’t understand why you're so—"

"He's married," I said.

"He's what?"

"Married. He has a wife and kids." I stared at the ceiling and hot tears rolled down the side of my face. I sighed. "I mean, I feel like I did my best to discourage him in the beginning, but he just liked me so much I would have straight-up hurt his feelings if I said anything." I covered my face with my hands. "I hate myself," I said. "I wish I could just turn back time."

"I could tell something's been bothering you," she said.

I sighed. "I only have to see him once or twice a week, so I just try to put it out of my head in between times. Today was the worst it's ever been, though. And it makes it even more frustrating that he keeps making me fire my staff."

"He's trying to keep you at work so you can't have a life," she said. "He's a sick-o."

"Well, I guess I'm even worse than him for not seeing it—for just letting him have his way," I said.

"No, you're not. You're a victim here, Tabitha."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"You're sitting on the couch, crying."

"I hate him. I really do. Maybe I am a victim."

"You're not working there anymore, that's all I know."

"Yes, I am," I said. "I don't really have a choice. At least until I find something else. I have too many responsibilities."

"And he knows that. That's why the jerk did what he did. He's such a jerk. I should tell Ethan about it. He probably knows some actor who could play a thug and go scare him or something."

"Don't tell Ethan," I said. "I should have been stronger."

"You are strong. That's why it hasn't gone further than this."

I let out a little laugh. "No kidding. It's all I can do to keep him at arm's length without totally hurting his feelings."

"You need to stop worrying about his feelings," she said. "Go ahead and hurt them."

"I hate confrontation," I said. "And then I think about how his wife would feel if she knew what he was…" I trailed off, feeling disgusted with myself.

"You got a headache, Mama?"

I heard Isabel's sleepy voice from the doorway that led to my bedroom, and I glanced in that direction to find her standing there, holding her stuffed bear as she squinted into the light. I instantly sprang off of the couch, heading in her direction without so much as a backward glace at Macy. I was so relieved to see my little angel awake, that I scooped her up, burying my face into her tiny neck as I held her and walked toward our bed at the same time. The room was dark, a fact for which I was glad because it masked my tearstained face. I positioned Isabel in her spot, and covered her up before climbing into the bed on top of the covers. I snuggled up to her, smiling and running my fingers through the loose curls that framed her face.

"Do you have a headache?" she asked sleepily.

I kissed her forehead. "No," I whispered. "I'm just tired from a long day at work."

"Why was you cwying?"

"From happiness," I whispered.

"Because Aunt Macy is mawwying Efan?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I said, still stroking her hair, and feeling thankful that I got to see her awake one more time before I went to sleep.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I wuv you."

"I love you, too, Izzybizzy," I whispered. I kissed her again—right on the tip of her nose.

She smiled. "And Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to make anothew one for that man Dwake since he needs one with a camewa."

"Another one what?"

"One for Dwake. With a camewa."

"You lost me, Izzybee. I think you're dreaming. Are you talking about Aunt Macy's friend?"

She giggled. "I'm not dweaming. I weally told him a pwomise you'd make him one of those dolls. He said if you can, to make one with a camewa because he woves camewas."

"Are you talking about me making another doll?"

She nodded without taking her head off of the pillow. "Fow Dwake."

"Drake?"

She nodded. "He said he loves youw dolls so much, and he would give you five hundwed dollaws for a Dwake doll with a camewa, so I told him a pwomise that I would tell you to make him one, okay?" She looked at me with an intense expression like the whole thing was weighing heavily on her mind. Her eyes were really pleading with me. "He weally needs it, and I pwomised, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"And don't wowwy, because he will give you five hundwed dollars."

"He said that?" I asked.

She nodded. "And, don't wowwy, he will be a nice man to you." She meant it as a general statement, but I couldn’t help but find a little humor in it—or irony, or whatever you want to call it. After the day I had, I wasn't sure nice men existed.

"I'm glad he'll be a nice man," I said. "Because I don't make dolls for just anybody."

Drake had obviously seen the dolls I had just finished for Macy and her soon-to-be groom, Ethan. I had made the Macy doll years before, but when they decided to get married, I made one for Ethan along with all the wedding garb to go with them. They were roughly twelve inches tall and were mostly made of wool for felting and fabric, but I worked with all sorts of materials. I liked to take my time with the dolls and use high-quality components, so five hundred dollars was the very least I could charge and still make even close to as much as I did hourly at Patterson & Ray.

"I hope you didn't promise him I'd do it right away," I said, thinking about work and how I might be busy with starting a new job soon.

"I know you don't want to make anothew doll after Efan's," she said, seeing my look of concern. "But you will do it for Dwake. I just know you will. He's handsome fow you."

I screwed my face up in a silly expression. "Handsome?" I whispered, causing her to giggle. "Did you just say he was handsome? Where'd you even learn that word, you silly goose?"

Isabel giggled at my shock. "You will know it is Dwake when you see him, silly."

"I will know what is Drake?" I asked.

"The pewson you need to make the doll fow."

"I think you need to get some rest, my little angel."

She smiled and blinked sleepily. "You pwomise?"

"Promise what? That I'll make that guy a doll?"

She nodded. "Dwake."

"I guess I do promise," I said. "If it means that much to you, I'll talk to him and find out if he really wants one."

"He does," she said. "He told me he wants one."

"I'll do it," I said. Oddly enough, it seemed like it really meant a lot to her. I could tell she woke up thinking about it, and now that I had promised, she was able to relax. "Get some rest, okay?"

She yawned and nodded, letting her eyes close.

I stared at her angelic face for what must have been three or four minutes before she started breathing in a relaxed, rhythmic way that let me know she was asleep. I thought about how I would attack any man who put her in a position like J.R. had put me in, and it was that exact thought that let me know just how blind I had been. I had to stand up for myself. I had to quit Patterson & Ray, even if it meant making J.R. angry—even if it meant moving back to Connecticut and starting over.

I kissed her forehead and headed back into the living room.

Macy was still sitting on the couch.

"You'll be moving in with Ethan once you're married," was the first thing I said when I saw her.

She nodded. We had already talked about me staying in the apartment and Isabel taking Macy's bedroom once she moved out.

"So, maybe it's good timing," I said. "Maybe all this is a sign that I should just move back home with Mom and Dad. You know, start over."

"Just do me a favor, Tabby, and take a day to think about all this. You don't have to go moving back home with Mom and Dad just because some guy harassed you at work."

Chapter 3

Drake

Drake Salinger was one of New York's hottest up-and-coming photographers. He was a graduate of Columbia, but he built his business on a huge social media following through his unique portrait photography. He started at the bottom, and with hard work and dedication, he was now one of the most sought-after photographers in New York. While there was something to be said for hard work, dedication, and talent, it couldn't hurt that Drake was extremely easy on the eyes. He also carried himself with a relaxed demeanor that put his clients in the type of mood that made them pose for great photographs. His portraits were compelling yet playful. They were artsy yet approachable. Drake loved reflecting the heart of his subject in their expression, and he was good at doing it. He was a true professional when it came to capturing portraits—a skilled craftsman who loved his medium.

Macy was thinking about the photos Drake had taken for her wedding invitations as she stepped inside his studio. It was a beautifully decorated room. It had an open feel but was clearly sectioned off into different areas with a vast array of backdrops, furniture, and props. Macy had been in a few photo studios in her day, but none like Drake's. She couldn't help but smile as she looked around. She remembered the scene where her soon-to-be husband was acting silly and then serious for Drake's camera. She got butterflies just thinking about him.

"Macy." Drake's deep voice penetrated the silence, causing Macy to jump. "I'm sorry," Drake said. He and Macy converged in the center of the studio, and he took the object that was in her hand before offering her a sideways hug. He was a big guy, so Macy playfully gave him a couple of hard slaps on the back of his ribs when they embraced. He smiled at her. "This is awesome," he said, staring at the object he'd taken out of her hand. It was a custom-made egg-shaped tiny bassinette that Drake had made for some newborn portraits. He hired Macy to paint it so that it looked like it was an actual egg. "I love it," he continued. "I'm glad we went with brown."

"I am too," Macy said.

"I can change it in Photoshop if I want to experiment with other colors." The egg was heavy, but Drake held it up to inspect Macy's paint job—the way she painted sections of tiny speckles that made it look just like a real egg.

"I sanded it a little right here so it would look more like it had cracked open," Macy said.

Drake touched it and stared like he thought it was the most interesting thing. "It's perfect," Drake said.

"It was your idea," she said.

"Yeah, but you made it come to life."

That comment led them into a whole conversation about Brian, the guy who had fabricated the little egg-shaped wonder. He was a mutual friend of theirs, and they spoke about him for a few minutes. Macy's art was all about painting found objects, and she told Drake about a few things she wanted Brian to make for her.

Drake had some cash set aside for Macy's efforts with the egg, so she followed him back to his office as they wrapped up their conversation. They were in his office when she got a text from her sister. Macy had been expecting the text, so she took her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans right when she heard the sound of the notification. She sighed and then smiled as she stared at the screen.

"It's my sister," Macy said, with some relief in her tone. "She's asking me to come up to her work and get my niece, which is a good sign."

"Why's that a good sign?" Drake asked.

Macy seemed a little shaken up, which made Drake regard her with a concerned expression.

"She brought Isabel to work with her today because her creep boss was gonna be in the store, and she didn't want him to—" Macy stopped talking and regarded Drake with a regretful expression. "Actually, I don't know if she would want me telling you any of this," she said. "It's my sister's business. She's trying to get him to write a reference letter before she quits that place, and she swears she's not in any danger. She's a grown woman, and I know she's doing what she's got to do. I just worry about her, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Drake said. "I'm not sure I understood what you just said. Is your sister in trouble?"

"She's got this creep, jerk for a boss who tries to hit on her or whatever, but she's worked her way up at Patterson, and she can't just up and quit… at least she doesn't think she can. She blames herself for this whole thing with her boss, which is totally wrong."

Macy paused and smiled at Drake as if to say she was sorry for saying more than he wanted to hear.

"Are you saying she takes the little girl to work with her because she's scared of her boss?" Drake asked, wearing a confused expression.

"Basically," she said. "It's only been a few days since she told me about it. I wanted her to quit right then, but she insists that she can't do that."

"What'd that guy say about her taking the little girl to work?" Drake asked. "How'd he feel about that?"

"It's the first time she did that," Macy said. "Isabel didn't have school since it's Saturday, and Tabitha thought she could get away with taking her in. I think she told him the babysitter fell through. Either way, he must be gone now if she's asking me to pick up Izzy. That's a relief."

Drake regarded Macy with a skeptical expression. "Let me get this straight," he said. "Your sister works at a clothing store, right?"

Macy nodded.

"And her boss makes her feel so uncomfortable that she has to take her little girl to work?"

"It's temporary," Macy said. "She just wants to stick around long enough to get a good recommendation from him. She thinks if she doesn't end things on good terms that she'll have to move back home and start from scratch. I'd hate to see her do that. She's worked really hard."

Drake stared at Macy with a serious and unreadable expression. "Is this the one who made the dolls?"

Macy nodded.

"I wanted to meet her anyway," Drake said with a shrug.

"What's that mean? Are you going up there with me?"

"I'll ride with you to pick up your niece. I wanted to meet your sister anyway—maybe talk to her about making me one of those dolls."

"In the market for a doll, Drake?" Macy said, giggling at the irony of a big guy asking for such a thing.

"Yep," he said. "I'm secure enough in my manhood to admit that I want a doll. I officially want a doll."

Macy knew he was joking around, and she punched his shoulder. "I love her creations, too. It's just neat to see what she comes up with to represent you. It's like having your caricature done."

"I know. I loved yours and Ethan's. I seriously think she could do that for a business if she wanted to."

Macy sighed and shrugged. "I'm cool with you coming and everything, but I'm warning you, Tab's stressed with work right now. I know Isabel asked her about making one for you, but I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't commit to anything until she gets her own stuff straightened out."

"I'm not worried about the doll," Drake said. "I'm more curious about her work situation."

"She made me promise not to interfere," Macy said. "I probably shouldn't have even told you. She wants to handle it. She's got some sort of plan about getting a letter of recommendation from the guy who used to be the district manager before J.R."

"His name's J.R.?"

"J.R. Granger."

"Sounds like a park ranger." Drake said.

"Not quite. Tabitha said he wears jeggings."

"What are jeggings?" Drake asked.

Macy squinted at him. He was a fashion photographer, for goodness sake. She knew he knew what jeggings were. "You know what jeggings are."

"Maybe, but it's better if I don't admit it," Drake said. "And wearing them is completely out of the question. It makes me want to punch that guy even more."

"Well, it's a good thing he's not going to be there because Patterson & Ray has a strict no fist-fights policy."

"Oh, come on," Drake said, popping his knuckles and stretching his neck. "I've always wanted to be a vigilante. This'll help me get my feet wet."

She laughed at him. "Sorry, but you're not starting your vigilante quest on my sister's behalf," Macy said. "I promised I'd butt out and let her take care of it." She shrugged. "But you can still come with me to pick up Izzy if you want."

***

Thirty minutes later, Drake and Macy entered the huge, 5th Avenue Patterson & Ray store. She asked one of the employees about Tabitha's whereabouts, and he told them she was upstairs in the office.

It took Macy and Drake a few minutes to walk through the store, and on their way, Drake pointed out a few pictures of models he knew and had photographed. None of his work was hanging on the walls, but he pointed at one girl and said he had done a shoot with her just a few days before.

"Knock, knock," Macy called as she and Drake came to the open door that led to one of the upstairs offices. It was a big room with a wall full of clothing in boxes that looked like it needed to be sorted before it could go onto the floor. It was definitely a multi purpose room, but Drake's eye went immediately to the girl in the corner who was staring at a desktop computer. He could only see the side of her face, but he knew she was Macy's sister. He had already met Isabel, and this young woman looked like a grown-up version of her daughter.

"Oh, my goodness sakes! Dwake is hewe!" Isabel yelled as she caught sight of Drake and Macy. She had been sitting in a little alcove on the other side of her mom's desk, and it took her all of a split second to get to her feet and begin hopping toward Macy and Drake.

"Izzybizzy, I came to pick you up!" Macy said.

"Hi, Aunt Macy," Isabel said in a jerky, breathless way as she hopped toward them.

"Hey peanut," Macy said.

"And hello, Dwake," Isabel said. "What awe you doing hewe with my Aunt Macy?" She went right up to Drake with her hands in the air like she expected him to pick her up. Drake started to bend down, but Macy put her hands out like she assumed Isabel wanted to be held by her. Isabel dodged Macy's hands, and jumped into Drake's arms. Thankfully, he had half-been expecting her to do it, so he caught her easily and placed her comfortably on his chest as he stood. Tabitha had been staring intently at the computer screen, but she peeled her eyes away and swiveled in her chair, taking in the new arrivals for the first time and regarding the whole scene with a somewhat confused expression.

"I'm sorry, who's this?" she asked, knowing she had missed something while she was preoccupied with her work.

"This is my friend Drake," Macy said.

Drake gave Tabitha a little smile and wave, and watched as she stared up at him with a look of genuine confusion.

"The photographer?" she asked, tilting her head.

Isabel leaned in front of Drake, putting her hands on the sides of his face and manually aiming his gaze in Tabitha's direction. "See, Mom what I told you what he looks like. This is Dwake, Mom, see what he looks like?"

"I do see," Tabitha, said leaning back in her chair so she could take in the sight of her daughter in the arms of this guy. "Are you the one who wants the doll?" she asked, looking at him from over the reading glasses that rested on the tip of her nose.

"I'd love one of your dolls," he said.

"When'd you start wearing reading glasses?" Macy asked.

Tabitha took the plastic glasses that were resting on her nose, and tossed them to the desk behind her. "They're fake," she said. "They're clear. I just wear them when I'm up here in the office. You know, to make me look in charge."

Drake couldn’t stop an amused grin from crossing his face, and this made Isabel wiggle around in his arms. "See what he looks like, Mama?" Isabel asked, patting Drake's chest.

"I do see," Tabitha said, going along with it. "And I didn't know he was this big when I agreed to make a doll for him. It might cost extra for such a big doll."

Isabel beamed at Drake like he was the best thing she'd ever seen, and Tabitha stared at him like she was genuinely perplexed by his appearance. "Is this the same guy who took your invitation photos?" she asked.

Macy nodded. "Drake."

"I did not picture you looking like this at all," Tabitha said, staring at Drake with a straight face.

"How'd you picture me?"

"I don't know. Maybe not so manly."

"Not manly? What's that supposed to mean?" Drake asked, looking offended. His question was made even funnier by the fact that his voice was deep and he had a dark shadow of a beard across the lower part of his face. He was sharply dressed, but in a casual and definitely masculine way.

Tabitha shook her head at him. "You know, you're a fashion photographer," she said. "I guess I just thought you guys all looked like… I guess I just I pictured you… I didn't expect you to be so… rugged."

Drake was mesmerized by her smile. As a student of smiles, he knew hers wasn't completely genuine, but it was beautiful in spite of the fact that it was forced. "I'd love to take your picture," he said.

"I wish you would take Isabel's picture," Tabitha said. "I haven't taken anything but iPhone photos of her since she was a year old.

"Both of you, then," Drake said. "Seriously, I'd like to. No charge."

Chapter 4

I stared in wonder as my daughter rested her head on this stranger's chest, giving him a tight squeeze. My sister's friend, Drake, had just offered to take mine and Isabel's picture for free, and Macy stared at me with wide eyes from her place next to him, telling me in sister code that it was a generous offer, and I needed to graciously accept.

I smiled at Drake. I hadn't been expecting him to show up with my sister, and I was completely thrown off by his presence in general, but especially by the fact that he looked nothing like the skinny-jean-wearing, satchel-carrying, artsy photographer type I expected. This guy was a man—tall, dark, and handsome, like someone who would be your guide on a whitewater rafting excursion. It was no wonder Isabel was captivated by him—he was the type of man whose mere presence put you at ease.

I was just about to say something to accept his gracious offer of a photo shoot when the worst thing I could ever have imagined happened. I saw a shadow come into the doorway behind them, but I didn't know it was J.R. until he came around my sister.

I felt nervous and nauseated, and I sat there and stared at him like a deer in the headlights. Seeing him next to Drake was utterly sickening. It was impossible not to compare the two of them when they were standing so close to each other, and I felt grossed out and embarrassed. My stomach was so tightly clinched that I could barely breathe.

J.R. stood there, taking in the scene with an expression of suspicion, and I felt instantly defensive.

"This is my sister," I explained. "And her friend, Drake. Macy and Drake. They came to get Isabel, but we were just thinking about everybody's timing and saying she might have to end up staying with me after all." I paused and smiled at my sister. "Macy, this is my boss, J.R."

Macy greeted J.R., but her demeanor was guarded. Drake, however, greeted J.R. with a big smile and a hardy handshake that required some adjustments of the way he was holding Isabel.

"Hey there, pal," J.R. said when he and Drake shook hands. "That's some grip you have there." As they pulled away, J.R. grimaced and shook his hand as if to indicate that it had been tightly squeezed.

"Sorry," Drake said. "I get a little carried away sometimes." He stretched his arms and neck casually. "That's what happens when you train as much as I do. MMA. Mixed Martial Arts."

J.R. let out a laugh as if he thought Drake might be joking, but Drake just stood there and stared at him with a serious expression. There was an awkward pause where I prayed that my sister or daughter would say something, but neither of them did, we all just stood there and looked at the two men, wondering what outlandish thing they might say next.

"Sounds pretty hardcore," J.R. said.

"The hardest-core ever," Drake said, shaking his head seriously. "Super hardcore. I basically smash things for a living."

"For a living?" J.R. asked, looking amazed but still skeptical.

Drake nodded.

"So, you're a professional fighter?"

"Not full time or anything, but my true passion is fighting. I have fights on a regular basis. Destruction of any type, really. Smashing, crushing, ripping. I'm into it all." Drake did not crack a smile the whole time he spoke, and we all just stood there and stared at him.

"Are you being serious?" J.R. asked since none of us were saying anything.

Drake nodded, and we all just stayed quiet for a few seconds before Isabel finally started giggling. "Dwake's pickin'," Isabel said, curling up to him.

I watched in amazement as Drake stared point blank at J.R. and shook his head, clearly and most seriously disagreeing with Isabel without letting her see that he was doing it. I cleared my throat to distract from the obvious male tension in the room and to keep myself from laughing. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Drake knew about J.R. and was acting that way on my behalf, but I knew Macy wouldn't have told him. It must have just been obvious that J.R. was a creep.

"Yeah, I actually don't know how long I can watch her," Macy said, cracking the intense silence. We all looked at her and she smiled regretfully and gestured at Isabel. "I know I told you I could watch her this afternoon, but I just found out that I can't. I'm so sorry." Macy looked at Isabel. "Sorry, peanut," she said. "You're gonna have to stay here with Mom while she finishes her shift." Macy paused and looked at her watch and then at me. "You should be getting off soon, anyway, right? Because you and Drake were supposed to come to dinner with me and Ethan tonight. Double date, remember?"

I swallowed hard, wondering how I was now suddenly dealing with a fake date, a cancelled babysitter, and a professional body smasher. I was overwhelmed by all the charades. J.R. was now officially annoyed by their presence in the office; I could see it in his expression.

"I was going to see if you could just go ahead and come home now," Macy said, seeing my hopeless expression, and turning into a mother bird. She looked straight at J.R. when she said, "Tabitha's been working a lot of overtime lately. I'm glad you're here so you can help her figure out a way to take the rest of the afternoon off."

"I'll be able to leave in a couple of hours," I said, in an effort to smooth everything over.

"She knows her schedule," J.R. said with a defensive smile aimed at Macy. "She knew she had to be here till three today."

"She's given a lot to this place," Macy said.

"I won't argue with that," J.R. said with his hands raised. He gave me a little smirk and wink that probably was meant to be a compliment about my work ethic, but I took as something totally different.

I could just imagine a huge fight breaking out where my sister got up in my boss's face and started pointing fingers. I felt hot blood as it rose to my face, and I knew my cheeks were turning red. I spun toward the computer and started clicking away so that no one could see my face. I reached out and grabbed my useless reading glasses and put them on out of nervous energy.

"I think I got the schedule finalized for next week," I said, looking at the screen. My heart was still pounding, but at least I had a second to get my breathing under control. "I just have a few more things to get done up here, but I should be able to get out a little earlier than I expected." I clicked a few more times before swiveling to stare at my sister. "Thanks for coming by to tell me you couldn’t watch her," I said. "I'll be up here for the rest of my shift, so she'll be fine playing." I was so proud of Isabel for just sitting there while we talked, and I wrinkled my nose and smiled at her because of it.

"Yep, I colowed six pages alweady, and we went fow a walk on hew lunch bweak so I'm not stuck inside all day."

"Okay, well, I love you, and I'll see you when you get home," Macy said.

"Okay, bye, love you, hope you have fun." Isabel said.

"Bye, love you, hope you have fun," Macy said.

It was a phrase our family used all the time, so both Isabel and Macy said the phrase in a practiced singsong way. Drake was still holding Isabel, and she swung in his arms to stare right at him. He pulled back a few inches so that he could focus on her with a smile.

"Awe you weally having dinnew wif us?" she asked.

Drake nodded without hesitation, and Isabel gave him a satisfied smile before squirming in just the right way that he set her to her feet.

"Bye, wove you, hope you have fun," she said. I knew she was nervous by the way she didn't pronounce the L in love. She glanced down when he set her to her feet, so she hadn't been looking directly at Drake when she said it. Drake didn't know what to say when she glanced at him.

"Me?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Bye, love you, hope you have lots of fun, too," Drake said in a reluctant way that said he was hoping he got all the words correct and in order.

Isabel giggled as she skipped to the little spot she had set up in the corner near my desk. "Bye Aunt Macy, bye, Dwake," she called.

"Bye, peanut."

Drake waved at her. "Bye, Isabel, see you later, okay?"

"Okay," she said.

J.R. just stood there watching the whole thing, and I thought, I can't believe you're making them leave. No one invited you to come in here in the first place.

"You sure you're okay?" Macy asked seeing my frustrated expression.

"Yep," I said casually. "I'll be home in a little while." I turned to the computer again. I was so mad at J.R. that I couldn’t even look at him. I could feel his presence in the room, but I just stared at the screen, clicking absentmindedly on the little time blocks on the schedule.

It was quiet for a minute before J.R. got up to walk across the room. I glanced over my shoulder only to find that he was peering into the hallway, watching Macy and Drake walk away. I pictured him as a rat while I watched him stare at them. While on first impression (and not while standing next to Drake) he was a decent looking man, the rat-like nature of him was so great, that he now came across as one big, walking, clothes-wearing rat.

"That dude was crazy," was the first thing J.R. said once he decided the coast was clear. He said it in a light-hearted way that didn't necessarily require a response, so I just ignored him. "That dude," he pressed, coming to stand behind me. "He was crazy," he repeated. "Did you see how he was looking at me?"

"No," I said distractedly.

Isabel looked up, and I gave her wide-eyes and shook my head, telling her to be quiet.

"Did you hear him tell me he liked smashing things?" J.R. asked.

"No," I lied, working but not really working on the schedule.

"I did," Isabel said. "Wemembew when Dwake said he crashes and smashes things?"

"Huh? Oh, I must have not heard him," I said, distractedly.

J.R. came to sit on the edge of my desk in a position where I had no other choice but to glance at him. I made quick eye contact with him and offered a fleeting smile, hoping it would be enough. He was looking back at me with desperate eyes. My plan was to just glance at him, but I couldn’t bear to follow through with it once I saw his tortured appearance. I locked eyes with him, returning his beseeching expression with a curious one of my own.

"I need to talk to you," he said. He mostly mouthed the words, whispering barely loudly enough for me to hear.

I gave him a questioning expression. "So, talk to me," I whispered, since there was no way I could put off hearing what he had to say now that he was acting so serious. I truly thought he was about to fire me.

"I'm thinking about leaving her," he said with wide eyes.

Short-circuiting.

My brain was short-circuiting.

It was like two wires had been connected and now weren't.

His words made my mind lose track of reality. It took me a second to realize that this guy was telling me he was thinking about leaving his wife, and I could see by the way he looked at me like he thought I had something to do with his decision to do so. Nightmare. Seriously. Total nightmare. Worst-case scenario.

All of this was happening while Isabel played quietly on the floor, oblivious to what we were saying. I looked at J.R. with a shocked expression and shook my head.

"No, what?" he asked, still mouthing the words.

I just continued to shake my head. "She just moved all the way over here with you," I said in a breathless whisper. "And we're not… we can't do whatever it is we've been…" I trailed off, feeling too breathless to continue.

My heart was pounding. It was my most dreaded confrontation come to life, only now I had the twist of him wanting to leave his wife. Not to mention, my four-year-old daughter was sitting three feet away.

"I feel really bad about your wife. I was gonna talk to you about us keeping some professional boundaries." I was whispering and yet still my voice was shaky and uneven. I hated this moment. J.R. was already looking hurt and offended, and we had only scratched the surface of what needed to be said. "I think you should definitely stay with your wife," I added. "I love marriage. I think marriage is great. I was gonna tell you I felt bad about everything, anyway."

J.R. had the nerve to smile at me like seeing me flustered amused him. "I thought you'd be happy to hear I was thinking about leaving her."

I shook my head at him to assure him that was not the case, but Isabel made a movement that caught our attention. We both looked at her as she held up a piece of paper.

"I'm gonna dwaw a pictuwe of Dwake," she said.

"Okay," I said, smiling at my daughter even though I had barely even heard what she said.

"You want me to put you on it with him?" she asked.

She was looking right at me with an expectant smile, so I smiled and nodded. "Of course," I said, even though I hadn't really heard her question.

"I will dwaw you and Dwake on the pictuwe," she said.

"Okay, sounds good, baby."

I turned to face J.R. again, considering vaguely in the back of my mind what Isabel was saying. I usually made an effort to pay attention to the things my daughter was saying, but in this situation, I was consumed by making sure J.R. knew I did not support any decision that involved leaving his wife. How in the world had I gotten myself into this?

I hated the idea of hurting his feelings, but it seemed as though he was going to make me do it.

"Seriously, J.R., I was going to say we needed to stop whatever was going on, anyway," I said, still whispering so Isabel wouldn't hear. I was glad for her presence because I didn't trust my voice at full volume. "You're married, and I'm seeing that guy, Drake, now." (I hated lying, and my breathlessness reflected that, but Macy and Isabel had already set me up for it, so I just went with my gut.) I gestured back and forth from J.R. to me. I was tired after a long, frustrating day, and I did my best to look frumpy, slouching as I sat in my chair. I smiled regretfully at him. "It really should have never happened in the first place."

Chapter 5

I got off of work an hour early that day, a fact for which I was extremely relieved because things were officially awkward between J.R. and myself. I had come right out and told him that we could no longer do the things we'd been doing, and honestly, I wasn't even sure how he took it. He just stared blankly at me before standing up and walking out of the office.

I left an hour later, and he was nowhere to be found. Not that I searched for him, because I didn't. I needed to just go ahead and ask him for a reference letter while things were still halfway cordial between us. I thought about going over J.R.'s head to ask Michael, the regional manager, to do it for me, but I knew that would only make J.R. mad. I considered all these things as Isabel and I rode in the cab to our apartment. We only lived about eight blocks from my work, but we had plans to stop at a store on the way home that was two blocks past our place, so I figured we could just take a cab and get dropped off there.

I had been too distracted to pay attention to my phone, but I took it out of my bag when I thought of contacting J.R. while things were still polite between us. I was planning on sending him a text to put a bug in his ear about it, but there was a message from my sister waiting for me when I looked at the screen.

Macy: "I went with Drake to help him find some fabric for the inside of the egg. We came by the apartment after we went to the fabric store. He's here now."

Her text had come in about twenty minutes earlier, and I typed out a response instantly.

Me: "Is he still over there?"

I heard back from her right away.

Macy: "For now. He's leaving in a minute. He came by because the fabric store was close. He mentioned taking us to dinner since we said that to Iz, but I told him I had plans with Ethan and that you and Izzy probably wanted to chill."

Me: "Good."

I wrote it and sent it, but I didn't mean it. I was tired and part of me wanted to be alone, but for whatever reason, deep down, I wanted Drake to be there when we got back. Maybe I felt comforted by the sheer presence of him and wanted him around in case J.R. got mad enough to come hunt me down. I smiled at myself, feeling silly for the paranoid thoughts, and for longing for a total stranger, and all the other craziness that was happening in my own mind.

I put my phone in my purse and focused my attention on Isabel, answering her question about the bobble head doll that was on the dash of the cab. The cabby dropped us off at our favorite corner grocery store. I had promised Isabel ice cream for being such a good girl while I was at work, and I was too tired to cook anything, so we hit the store on the way home for ice cream and frozen burritos.

By the time we did all that, it had been at least a half hour, so you can imagine my surprise when we got back to the apartment and I realized that my sister still had company.

Drake and Macy were sitting in the living room, looking comfortable and showing no signs of anyone leaving. She smiled at me and then beamed at Isabel, and I watched my daughter run across the living room with her arms in the air. She didn't bother taking off her shoes or backpack, and I smiled at the sight of her running toward my sister and Drake before I stared down, concentrating on taking off my own shoes.

I knew Drake was sitting over there, but I didn't even have the strength to glance at his face. I found that I was exceedingly nervous in his presence. I took off my shoes and set down my bag before heading into the living room. Isabel was already in the process of taking her backpack off by the time I got over there. She was talking about the picture she'd been drawing, and I watched as she took it out of her bag and put it directly into Drake's hands.

"It's a pictuwe of you and my mom," she explained.

I realized this whole scenario with how much my daughter was smitten with Drake could come across as me trying to trap the poor guy into something when exactly the opposite was true. I didn't want to trap anybody into anything. I didn't want to be trapped into anything. No trapping either way. No trapping at all.

"It could be anybody," I said, coming to stare at the piece of paper that Isabel had just handed Drake. My heart dropped as I looked down at it. As an added bonus to the already blush-worthy situation, there was a huge heart circling the two stick figures in the middle. Isabel didn't even know how to draw a heart yet, and the shape had simply happened by the accidental natural stroke of a four-year-old's arm. She had just handed it to Drake, so before he had the chance to inspect it too closely, I reached down and plucked it out of his hand.

"I'll hang this on the fridge—" I had begun the statement confidently, but by the time I got to the word 'fridge', I trailed off because I realized I didn't have the paper in my hand.

Drake had held onto it and was giving me a shocked expression when I glanced at him. "I thought you said you drew this for me," Drake said, looking directly at Isabel.

"I did!" she said, staring at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. They were glossy and precious with dark lashes, and I couldn’t help but smile at how serious she was.

"I know, but I want it," I said, reaching out for it again. "You can make Drake a picture of a camera or something. You can draw a camera, and it's something he'd like. A camera is just a few squares and circles."

Drake grew suddenly even more interested in the picture and inspected it even more closely than he would have if I had just left it alone. I sighed and plopped down on the couch.

I must have looked or sounded sufficiently pitiful because Drake handed me the paper. "I should probably let you ladies get on with your evening," he said. He shifted like he was getting to the edge of the couch in preparation to leave.

"Noooo," Isabel said. "I weally wish you could stay ovew hewe wif us. Can you, please?"

Isabel was usually easy to please. I would never label her as a complainer—especially in front of new people. She was too shy for that. It really surprised me to see her stare straight at Drake with a look of disappointment and flat-out plead with him to stay.

"Drake wasn't talking about taking our picture tonight," I said since it was the only reason I could think of that Isabel would be so torn up about it.

"I could," Drake said. "I was just telling your sister it's the first Saturday I've had off in forever."

"Well, then we're definitely not making you take any pictures," I said. I tried to act casual as I got settled in a spot in the opposite corner of the couch. Drake adjusted to face me, and I smiled at him. His eyes and hair were incredibly dark. I honestly couldn’t differentiate his pupils from his irises. His eyes were the deepest of brown. I had thought the same thing about him when I saw him at my work earlier, and I wondered what they looked like in the sun.

It was the thought of the sun that made me remember ice cream—Isabel's ice cream. I sprang off of the couch and ran to my bag, which contained the ice cream and frozen burritos and was still by the door. I ran to the kitchen and stashed all of it in the freezer as quickly as I could. I heard Isabel saying something to Macy and Drake about loving cookies and cream, but I was too busy chastising myself for being a total space case.

Macy got up and headed to her bedroom. I saw her leave the room out of the corner of my eye before I put away the frozen items and turned toward the living room. Drake had stood up and was looking at me when I finished in the kitchen. Isabel had become preoccupied with some of her toys, so she stayed at the coffee table. Drake took a few cautious steps toward me. He put his hand out and approached me cautiously.

"I know you've had a long day, so I'm not gonna bother you about the doll, but I do just want to throw it out there that I'd pay just about anything to get you to make me one. Whenever you can. I know you're busy. I just want to be on the list."

"Well, you're the first, so I'll give you a shout when I get my life straightened out and can think about ordering some more wool."

"This might be a weird question, but is there anything I can do to help you?" he asked.

I could see Isabel's silhouette behind him, and she looked up when Drake asked me that. It was only then that I realized she was listening to us, and I felt bad for saying the thing about getting my life straightened out. I continued at more of a whisper.

"Thank you, but no," I said. "I'm not even sure what to do for myself. I'm just kind of thinking about whether I'm gonna stay in the city or go back home to Hartford."

"That's easy," Drake said.

"What?"

"Stay in the city. The city's the best." He had come almost all the way into the kitchen by that point, and I smiled at the way he took up the whole place.

"You're too big for this apartment," I said.

"Nu-uh," he said. He reached up, demonstrating that he couldn’t touch the ceiling, at least not while he was flatfooted. His stretching motion made me remember that whole exchange between Drake and J.R. I let out a little laugh at the memory of it. "I can't believe you told my boss you crush things," I said. "That was the funniest thing I've ever heard. Your face was totally serious, too."

"I was serious. I don't like that guy."

I glanced over Drake's shoulder to make sure Isabel wasn't paying attention to us. "Well, he's sort of a jerk," I said quietly. "So you've got good instincts."

"I'd like to believe you're right about my instincts, but in full disclosure, Macy told me you didn't like your boss."

"I wondered," I said, suddenly feeling reluctant. "What exactly did she tell you?"

"She just said she worried about you."

"Well, there's no need," I said. "I'm fine."

There was a small peninsula in our kitchen, and Drake and I converged on opposite sides of it. He was still holding the picture Isabel drew, but it was face down, and he was looking at me.

"Your eyes are dark," I said, since they were breathtakingly bottomless and currently staring a hole right through me.

"Yours are too."

"Not as dark as yours."

He smiled. "Maybe not."

"I'd like to see what they look like in the sun," I said. I thought I was making casual conversation, but I realized that statement sounded more lovey-dovey than I meant for it to. I cringed, wishing I could take it back.

He smiled. "I'd like to take your picture in the sun, anyway, so we could do both things at the same time. I have lots of windows in my studio."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to take my picture?"

"Because. Why do you want to see my eyes in the sun?"

"To see if they're brown or black."

"Brown," he said. He was so straight faced about it that I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

"That solves that, then."

"Yep," he said. "But I still want to take your picture."

"And you want me to make you a doll."

"I'd really love both of those things. Those two things would make my day. Can we hook those up?"

"We can, but I'm afraid it's not gonna happen in a day. It's gonna be at least a month on that doll, and that's if I really chip away at it when I'm off work."

"Don't worry about the doll," he said. "I know you have a lot going on right now. I don't care if I have to wait a year, I just want you to know I want one."

"Great," I said, holding my hand out in an official manner like we should shake on our deal.

"Great," Drake said, shaking my hand. His hand was big, and he held onto me with a firm but gentle grip. I pulled away when I realized I didn't mind the warm feel of it.

"I'm glad we got to talk—I'm glad I got to meet you. Isabel was asking me about making you a doll, and I was thinking if I did it, I could go off of a picture. I've never made one from a picture, but I think I could. Anyway, I'm glad we met so I can see how your mouth moves and everything."

The corners of his mouth lifted in a slow, easy grin. "I'm glad we met so I can see how your mouth moves, too," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him like I thought he might be making fun of me.

"I'm serious," he said, letting out a little laugh. "It's true. I like your mouth. That's why I want to take your picture—I mean, there's lots of reasons, but that's one. Your smile is a study in contradictions."

"I think I might be too tired to know what that means. I'm just gonna take it as a compliment."

He gave me a resigned smile. "It was, but I should let you get on with your evening."

"And I should let you get on with yours," I said.

"I don't have to be anywhere till eight o'clock," he said.

I knew that was still several hours away, but I said, "You better get going, or you're gonna be late."

Chapter 6

Drake wasted no time taking the hint that I wanted him to leave. One minute, I was staring at him from across the kitchen peninsula, and the next, he was walking away from me with the intention of telling Isabel goodbye before he left. I had just told him that he'd better get going, and now he was leaving, and I hated myself for ever saying those words.

I stared at his back as he crossed the room. I felt a sense of longing and regret. I really wanted him to stay, but honestly, I didn't feel like I was up for trying to impress someone like Drake. My self-esteem had seen better days, and I had no one to blame but myself. One of my friends back home had told me before I left that, "New York would eat me alive." I had been offended when she said that, but at the moment, I felt like she'd been right to try to warn me. I felt like I'd been eaten alive—or was in the process of being eaten, at least.

I was right in the middle of these types of thoughts when Isabel stood up and threw herself into Drake's arms. He scooped her up, and she latched onto him like a little monkey. She squeezed him tightly, burying her face into his neck. Drake held her close, but after a few seconds, he turned to me, wearing an expression like he wasn't sure what to do next.

"Isabel, Drake's gotta go, baby."

"He said he doesn't," she whimpered. "I heawd him say that." Her face was buried in his neck and her arms were covering her mouth. I could barely hear her, but I knew just by the way she was talking that she was crying.

I came to stand beside them. "He does, though, baby." I said, rubbing her back. "He's got somewhere to be at eight o'clock. I'm gonna make a doll for him though, and you can help me with that." My hand was still touching her back when she took an uneven breath that let me know she was still crying. She put her fists to her eyes and rubbed, doing her best to be a big girl.

Drake watched her take a hitching breath and rub her crying eyes, and then he shifted to stare directly at me with a serious expression as if he was mad at me for making him leave.

I looked back and forth from Drake to my daughter, who was completely devastated by his impending departure. I had literally never seen her act this way. She wasn't trying to disobey or be disrespectful by begging him to stay—she was genuinely heartbroken. I didn't know why, but I could see it plain as day, and it broke my heart.

"Can I talk to your mom for a minute?" Drake asked, staring at Isabel. He glanced at me. "Is there somewhere we can talk for a second?"

Drake set Isabel to her feet with a reassuring glance that was full of all sorts of promises about how he'd be right back. He winked at her, and she smiled and blinked through her pitiful tear-filled lashes and she took another unsteady breath. My bedroom was the only place that could offer us any sort of privacy, but I didn't want to go in there, so I turned on the television on my way to the kitchen. Drake followed me, and I spun on my heel once we were far enough away from Isabel that she couldn’t hear us. Drake regarded me with a sorrowful expression as if apologizing for what he was about to say.

"I don't want to offend you by saying this, but I think Isabel likes me."

"Ya think?" I asked sarcastically.

He sighed as if trying to decide how to put his sentiment into words. "What I'm saying is that I think she might like hanging out with a man a little. I don't know what your story is, or if her dad comes around, but it just feels to me like she…" Drake's expression fell when he noticed tears welling in my eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" He stared at me regretfully. "I'm making this into more than it is. I just hated to leave, but I wanted you to know I don't have any other motives other than feeling like your daughter might somehow benefit from a male presence in your apartment." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It sounds bad even saying that. I'm not trying to offend you. I'm not pretending to know what your daughter wants or needs."

I tried to blink them away, but a tear escaped and rolled onto my cheek. I instantly wiped it with the back of my hand, glancing at Isabel's profile in the distance before smiling at Drake. "I'm only offended because you're right," I said quietly. "Her daddy knows she exists, but he's never laid eyes on her—as far as I know, anyway. She used to be around my dad more, but now that we live here, she barely even talks to any men… except for the little boys in her class and their dads. Ethan's been coming around with Macy lately, so that's good." I had been looking down, but I glanced at Drake with the same regretful expression he'd been using on me. I sighed. "Thank you for offering to stay. I think ultimately you're right about what she needs or what she's lacking or whatever, but staying an hour longer than you intended isn't going to do anything to fill her daddy void."

"No?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised. "I thought it couldn’t hurt."

"It can hurt," I said. I wasn't going to say anymore about it, but he just stood there and stared at me.

"How?" he asked. "What's the harm in letting me hang out with her for a few minutes?" he asked. "You don't even have to be out here. You can go to your room."

I stared at him with narrowed eyes, telling him he should realize what a ridiculous statement that was, and he smiled at me.

"Fair enough, bad idea," he said.

"Plus, Ethan will be here in a little while," I said.

My sister hadn't been with Ethan all that long, but I felt like his presence in Isabel's life was a point in my favor and should be mentioned. "I know, you mentioned him a second ago. I like Ethan. I'm glad he's around."

"But thank you," I said. "Thank you for noticing, and for being willing to stay over here. She seems to really like you."

"I'm sorry there was no way to really offer to hang out with her without offending you."

I smiled. "No, you were right to say something. She seems to be pretty adamant about getting you to stay. I'm too tired and out of it to be offended, anyway."

"Are you gonna quit that job?" he asked.

I thought about how I should respond. "The short answer is 'yes'," I said. "I just don't know how or when."

"It's none of my business," Drake said. "But for what it's worth, I don't like that guy."

I smiled. "Get in line."

We stared at each other for a few seconds, both knowing we were saying goodbye.

"As for offering to hang out with Isabel…" I said. "We laughed about me leaving you two alone, but I would have trusted you, just so you know. I can tell you don't mean her any harm."

"Good," he said. "So, let me do it. You go take a shower, or paint your toenails, or call your boss and quit. Go take a minute for yourself. I have a couple of hours to spare. Let me take Isabel out for some ice cream or something."

I was honestly a bit taken aback by his willingness. "I don’t mean to be skeptical, but I don’t understand what you stand to gain here."

"Sometimes people do things without standing to gain anything," he said.

"Not usually."

"Well, I'm sure I stand to gain something," he said with a shrug. "Ice cream in my belly for one."

I stared at him. He was too handsome, and I was so overwhelmed from having Isabel at work with me and juggling the drama with J.R. I couldn't think straight.

"There's a pastry shop on the corner," I said. "I'd really love a shower, and I know Isabel would be thrilled to—"

"Thank you," he said. "I hated leaving her when I didn't have anything going on for the next few hours." He smiled as if he was actually relieved about staying. It truly seemed like he wanted to continue hanging out with Isabel, and that made my heart happy.

"Drake," I said softly.

He looked at me, waiting for me to continue.

"Thank you."

Macy and Ethan were already gone by the time Drake and Isabel got back to the apartment. She and my parents were the only ones I let watch Isabel, and she couldn’t believe I had let her go with Drake. She confirmed that Isabel would be fine and that I was right in trusting Drake, but she mentioned more than once that she was surprised I had done it.

I was glad I did because it gave Macy and I some time to talk about J.R. and the fact that things came to somewhat of a head with us after she and Drake left earlier. In our conversation, Macy assured me that he was a jerk and I was a victim, and all that good stuff, but I couldn’t shake the regretful feeling I had on account of my on inability to keep it from happening in the first place. I smiled and acted like I agreed with everything she was saying, but deep down, I still felt guilty and tortured for my role in it, and wished so badly that I could have been stronger.

Macy didn't seem to judge me, but I definitely judged myself. She asked me if I had noticed Drake at all, and I told her the truth, which was that I was too preoccupied with getting my life straightened out to be able to notice anyone—regardless of how handsome and sweet he was. We joked about Drake being tall, dark, and dangerously handsome, and I laughed about misjudging him based on the fact that he was a photographer.

I mentioned Isabel's infatuation with him, but I downplayed it considerably. I didn't tell Macy she cried when he started to leave. There was a lot I left out, actually. I was sick with regret from everything I had let happen with J.R., so I was distractible and had the tendency to lose focus.

Ethan came to pick Macy up, and before I knew it, they were gone, and I was alone in the apartment. I had about fifteen minutes to myself before Drake and Isabel came back. I had just finished putting some dishes in the dishwasher when they walked inside.

"Dwake bought you two pieces of chocolate cake!" Isabel announced proudly.

Drake was holding her, and she was holding the white box.

"One-and-a-half," Drake said, shooting me a look of regret. "I might have taken a little off the corner of one of them before we left."

Isabel giggled. Drake set her to her feet, and I watched as she ran across the room, headed toward me. She stopped in front of me and held up the box, offering it to me with a huge smile.

"Why, thank you," I said.

She squealed with delight at being the barer of such a nice treat, and ran off to the living room where she twirled around. I peeked inside the box, and sure enough, there were one-and-a-half pieces of chocolate cake. I grinned as I glanced at Drake.

"I'm sorry for eating that."

I shrugged. "Even one piece was more than I expected," I said. "As far as I'm concerned, you brought me one and gave me half of yours."

"Yeah… that's what I did," he said, obviously lying. "I did not order a big slice of pie and eat it with your daughter before I ate half of that chocolate cake in one bite."

"Good," I said, smiling. "Because that would be totally unacceptable." I took a fork out of the drawer and used it to eat a bite of cake—the slice he'd already eaten from. I made an appreciative noise as I chewed. "Oh man, thank you so much," I said, putting the box into the fridge as I finished swallowing. "That's my favorite."

"That's what Isabel said. That's why I had to try it."

I started to wipe the countertop, but Drake was casually standing in my kitchen watching me, so I changed my mind about the mindless busywork and opted to just stand there next to him.

"Thank you for hanging out with her," I said with quiet sincerity. "I thought about what you were saying, and I know you were right about it. I need to get back home to let her see more of my dad."

"It's none of my business, really. I just wanted to say anything to get you to let me stay. It was breaking my heart to see her cry."

"Well, you should sneak out, then."

"You mean leave without saying goodbye?" he asked, looking at me like I had lost my mind.

I nodded. "I can't promise she won't cry again," I said. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't expecting her to do it the first time. It might be easier if I just tell her you had to leave."

"Yeah, that's not really an option," he said. He smiled and waved in such a way that I knew Isabel was walking into the room and looking right at him. "Besides, I wasn't planning on leaving. Isabel said you guys might want to come with me tonight. I was telling her about this little party I'm going to, and she said you both love parties."

I let out a little laugh. "I bet she did."

Chapter 7

"I don't know how in the world you talked me into this, little girl." I stared down at Isabel nervously as we walked into Drake's apartment building later that evening.

The party happened to be in the same apartment building where he lived, so Isabel and I said we would meet Drake at his place. His apartment was on the sixth floor, and I held Isabel's hand as we got off of the elevator in search of his door. We would have never come, but Drake assured me we would be doing him a favor, saying he'd be happy for the excuse to leave after he had made an appearance. I put up a little fight, but it wasn't much of one. He was either gorgeous or persuasive, and I was either weak or smitten—there was probably a little mix of all of those things in play. Isabel didn't help much, either. She was all Drake all the time.

To make a long story short, I had somehow agreed to go to a birthday party even though I did not have that on my agenda for the evening. I told Drake we could only hang out for an hour or so since I had Isabel on a strict routine, and he said that would be perfect.

He told me it was a casual birthday party for one of his friends. I dressed both Isabel and myself in jeans and white shirts. I didn't make a ton of money, but I liked fashion and had collected a few nice things over the years. The white shirt I had on was loose fitting and comfortable, but nicely made. It was one of my favorite shirts, and the fact that I had one almost just like it for Isabel made it even more fun.

I strategically rolled my loose curls into a messy bun right on top of my head, and pulled down little pieces to frame my face. Isabel asked me to style her hair like mine, and I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't want to look too much alike, so I did it. Her hair was a little lighter than mine and she was about one-fifth my size, but otherwise we were completely twins. If I had a cast on my arm, we would have been identical. She looked up at me and smiled as we walked toward his door. I could tell she was tired, and honestly, I was too, but it felt nice to get dressed up and go somewhere for a change.

I stopped when we came to the door that said 612. "Six-twelve," I said. I stood in front of it for a few seconds before glancing down at Isabel. She just smiled at me like she expected me to handle the situation and knock on the door. I reached out to tap it a few times. Within seconds, the door opened. Drake was standing on the other side of it, and my heart melted as I took him in. He looked breathtakingly amazing, but the problem was that he had on jeans and a white shirt, exactly the same as Isabel and me.

"Are we really all wearing this?" I asked. He had dark hair and eyes, and the white shirt made him appear even darker and more mysterious. I looked at clothing for a living, so I was instantly able to appreciate the quality of his shirt. I stared at the seams at the collar for a few seconds simply because I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes.

"I'll change so I don't cramp your style," he said. He bent to pick up Isabel, who held her hands up with a huge smile on her face. "You are the two loveliest ladies I have ever seen in my whole life," Drake said. He was pretending to say it only loud enough for Isabel, but he knew I was able to hear him.

"My mom put my haiw in a bun, like hews," Isabel said. She reached up to touch the neatly rolled mass of curls, which I had placed high on her head.

"Your hair looks so beautiful."

Isabel put her hands on her cheeks and blinked at him, giving him the absolute prettiest eyes she could make. This caused Drake to stare straight at me with wide eyes, asking if I was seeing what he was seeing.

I laughed and gently pinched Isabel's rear end as I came in the door. "You big ham," I said, causing her to giggle. I followed Drake into his apartment, which was open and roomy with tons of character. It was masculine and everything, but I was surprised by how intentionally decorated it was.

"This looks like something out of a magazine," I said. "Did you buy all this stuff?"

"I used to use it as my studio. I took pictures out here and in the extra bedroom before I got my studio space. I have a friend from school who's a stylist. She helps me with the furniture and props at the studio, too. Her name is Natalie. Your sister knows her." Drake set Isabel to her feet, and she ran ahead of us, making a lap in the living room, and touching almost every available surface—couches, coffee table, end tables, chair. She was humming as she did it, and I smiled at seeing her in such a good mood.

Within five minutes, Drake had offered us drinks and changed into a different shirt—a light blue one that looked to be made by the same designer as the white one. I could tell by the tiny little tag on the collar. I caught myself looking at his clothes, not because I cared what he was wearing, but because it was difficult to look at his face without feeling drawn toward him. Drake made me realize why people used the term attractive. I had never said or even thought of that word before, but it was attraction I felt to him every time I looked at his face. His mouth was mesmerizing, both his top and bottom lips were full and perfectly shaped. We were standing in his living room and I was staring at the way his dark facial hair framed his lips when he smiled.

"Your place is really nice," I said, looking around.

"Thank you. I'm glad you're here. Are you ready to head upstairs?"

I shrugged. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

Rose was the nicest lady you'd ever want to meet. It was her 60th birthday, and her apartment was full of friends and family. Somewhere between twenty and thirty people were there. Rose was a distant relative of Drake's (his dad's second or third cousin). She had looked out for Drake since he moved to New York years ago. She had been the one to tell him when there was an apartment for rent in her building, and that was how he had ended up there.

Everyone at the party knew of Drake's success as a photographer, so they were all anxious to catch up with him and ask him questions. Rose was a fan of his work and had collected a lot of the magazines and publications with his pictures. People at the party passed them around. They enjoyed looking at them and asking Drake questions, and it was really interesting to hear him talk about his job. He was somehow confident and humble at the same time, and I enjoyed watching him interact with everyone.

There were a few other kids at the party, so Isabel made a few friends. They found a spot in the corner of the living room to play with some toys while I walked around with Drake, talking to Rose's family.

We tried to leave after about an hour, but Rose insisted that we stay for her to blow out the candles on her birthday cake. It was nine-thirty by the time she did that, so we thanked them for having us and took our slices of cake for the road. It was the second set of chocolate cake that would be coming into my apartment that day. Rose's daughter had wrapped our cake on a paper plate with plastic wrap, and I held it in front of my chest while we rode the elevator down to Drake's apartment.

"That was fun," I said. I glanced at Drake. "Thanks for inviting us."

"Thanks for coming," he said. "I'm really glad you did."

"Me too, but I'm tiwed," Isabel said.

Her voice was weak and hoarse, and I balanced the plate in one hand so that I could reach down and pat her back. She leaned against my leg, closing her eyes like she might fall asleep right there in the elevator.

"Hang in there little princess. Maybe you can take a nap when we get in the cab."

I looked at Drake and then at the switchboard of the elevator, which clearly said it was taking us back to the sixth floor—to his apartment. I reached out and pressed the button that had a number one on it, and I smiled at him. "It's late. We might as well get on the road since she's so tired."

Drake reached out and pushed the number six again even though it was already pushed. I gave him a questioning glance.

"I was thinking just the opposite," he said. He whispered, but I knew Isabel could hear. She didn't care what we were saying, anyway. It was past her bedtime, and I could feel her leaning heavily on my leg. "I thought you could just get some rest at my place. I have an extra bedroom. It's got it's own bath. I won't even know you guys are in there."

I gave him an incredulous glance, and he smiled and gestured at Isabel. "I knew you'd think I was crazy for asking, but I really wouldn't even know you're there if you wanted to crash in my extra bedroom. I just hate to think about you dragging her through the city when she's tired like that."

"Thank you, but we can't," I said. "It's really sweet, and I'm tired, but we've got to be going home."

Drake gave me a sweet, reluctant grin just as the door opened on the sixth floor. I looked at him, expecting him to say goodbye and step off. "Can I at least make sure you get back to your apartment?"

I smiled. "I can't let you do that, but you can ride the elevator with us to the lobby if you want."

"Why won't you let me see you home?"

"Because that would take you forever. I don't want you to have to do that. We're fine taking a cab."

"How about I pay for your cab, and I come with you?"

I smiled. I knew he could pay for our cab and still not ride with us, but the truth was that I wanted him to.

"Please," he added.

"I'm not going to make you beg," I said after a few seconds.

Drake had been holding the elevator door, but he let it close as soon as I said that. As we rode to the lobby, Drake handed me the wrapped plate that Rose had sent with him so that he could pick up Isabel. She laid her head on his shoulder and that's how we walked out of the building—me holding two plates stacked on top of each other, and Drake carrying a sleepy Isabel.

Drake spoke to the doorman on our way out, but he kept it brief. I gave him one last chance to change his mind about riding home with us, but he insisted that he wanted to come. I climbed into the cab first, then Isabel, and then Drake, so she was situated between us in the backseat. We strapped her into the middle seatbelt, but she mostly rested her head on Drake. I was used to her doing that to me, and it gave me an odd feeling seeing her snuggling up to Drake so easily. I was happy for her and scared for her in equal parts—happy because she seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and scared because I didn't want to see her fall in love and get her heart broken. I knew we were both in trouble with Drake, but I decided not to warn her of the eminent dangers. I would let Isabel enjoy an evening with a male figure in her life without feeling the need to tell her not to be upset when he wasn't around anymore. We had only been in the cab for about five minutes when Isabel started breathing through her mouth in a way that made it obvious she was sleeping. I glanced at Drake who smiled at me.

"She's really precious," he said.

"Thank you," I said. I smiled and gave him a long blink, showing him how tired I was. "We had fun tonight. Thanks for having us."

"I had a sister," he said, completely changing the subject. "She was two years younger than me. She passed away when we were in high school."

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I hate to hear that."

"Thank you. I'm sorry too. It was a car accident. She was with a bunch of people who were drinking and driving." He paused, but I knew he was going to continue, so I just sat there quietly. "I knew she was in danger," he said. "I knew it, and I didn't do everything I could to stop her."

"You can't blame yourself for—"

"I know, I've been through all that in my mind, believe me. I've come to terms with my feelings about it. I'm just telling you about my sister because it might explain why I wish I could help you with that guy at your work. I hate it that you feel like you need to take Isabel to work with you to feel safe. Surely, you can find something else. I can even try to help you look if—"

"I am. I will. I plan on looking for something else starting next week. I've got to be a little patient, though, because I can't afford to burn any bridges with Patterson & Ray."

Drake's arm was around Isabel, and I reached up and touched it. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and the back of my fingers brushed against his forearm. The contact sent chills up my back, so I took my hand away as quickly as I put it there.

"Thank you for caring, though," I said sincerely. "It's nice that you care enough to say something. And I'm sorry about your sister. I know that must have been really hard."

He smiled sadly. "You would have really liked her."

For the next thirty minutes, Drake and I sat in slow-moving traffic and talked about family and life and regrets and accomplishments, and before I knew it, the cab came to a stop in front of my apartment building.

The next word out of my mouth very clearly needed to be, "Goodbye," but I couldn't stand to see him go, so instead, the words I said were, "Do you want to come up?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

Chapter 8

Drake

It was 6:13am when Drake opened his eyes. He knew it because he was staring straight at the cable box when his eyes opened. It took him a second to register the fact that this cable box wasn't his own. By the time he realized that he was on the couch in Tabitha's apartment, he heard the sound that had woke him up in the first place. First, there had been a jingling of keys, and then he heard the sound of the door opening. The shades were drawn, but light was peeking in through the sides. Drake sat up on the couch, and peered toward the door, watching as Macy came inside.

"Pssst," Drake said, knowing he should alert her of his presence. Macy peered into the room with a huge smile that said she thought it had been her niece who made the noise.

Drake lifted his hand, and gave Macy a little two-fingered wave to make his presence known. She gasped and put her hand to her chest, squinting into the living room and trying to figure out what exactly she was seeing. Drake squinted tiredly out of one eye and stretched in her direction so she could see him more fully.

"Drake Salinger, what are you doing on my couch?" Macy whispered, looking at him with an expression of utter shock. She crossed the room glancing back and forth from Drake on the couch to her sister's closed bedroom door, looking like she was trying to piece things together.

Drake still had on the clothes he had worn to Rose's birthday party, and he sat up on the couch resting his elbows on his legs while rubbing his face. He ran his hands through his hair, and let out a long sigh. He and Tabitha had stayed up talking until past 1AM when she finally made herself go to bed so she could get up with Isabel in the morning. Drake stretched, looking again at the clock, which now said 6:15.

"Tabitha thought you were coming home last night," Drake said, still speaking quietly.

Macy came to sit next to him on the couch. "I told her I'd probably come home since I have to volunteer at that race this morning, but I ended up crashing at S&S."

"Well, she thought you were coming home, so I told her I would stay out here till you got home. I told her I'd leave when you came in. I don't think she wanted Isabel to see me out here in the morning."

"Why didn't you just go home when Tabitha went to bed?" Macy asked.

Drake had been staring down at his feet, but he turned to look at Macy when she asked that. "Because I didn't want to leave them alone," he said as if that were obvious. "They shouldn't be alone."

He was so serious that Macy stared at him with shifty eyes as if she were missing something. "Drake, you do know I'm getting married, right?"

He nodded. "And you know that means that I won't be living here anymore, right?"

"Yes, Macy, I know. And I know Tabitha's a grown woman… I just... I couldn't…" Drake tilted his head and regarded Macy earnestly. "I seriously hate that guy for never seeing that little girl," he said. "How could he do that? How in the world could someone have something so precious—a part of you—your own flesh and blood—and not ever want to meet her, or know her, or be a part of her life? I just don't understand it. They need him. She needs a dad. Why isn't he here?"

Macy smiled and put her hand on Drake's knee, leaning against him with a bump to his shoulder that said she was thankful that he cared. "I ask myself the same thing," she whispered. "But Tabitha's strong. She's doing a good job. And I'll still be able to help out with Isabel after Ethan and I get married. She'll come spend the night with us and give Tabitha a break." She bumped him with her shoulder again. "You're so cute for sleeping out here till I got home, though."

"I want to destroy that guy for leaving Tabitha alone to raise that little girl. I hate him for doing that."

Macy giggled quietly. "You want to fight everybody lately—or is it just something about being around my sister that brings out the fighter in you? I can't believe you told Tab's boss you smash things for a living."

Drake smiled as he stood up and straightened his shirt. "Sometimes you have to fight," he said. "Sometimes you chose to let people live their own life and it turns out bad."

"Sometimes it does," Macy said, having no idea that the statement had deeper meaning for Drake. "And sometimes it turns out good," she said.

"Sometimes it does," Drake agreed, smiling at her. He felt sleepy and in the back of his mind, he promised himself coffee right when he got home. "I love your sister," he said to Macy. He looked right at her and said it with a straight face, but it changed to a smile when he realized that Macy was staring at him with a shocked expression. "Not like that," he said, reassuring her. "Not like I love her, love her. I just love her as a person. I feel like she's full of goodness, you know? I don't love her. I just wanted to tell you I love her as a person. As a human being. You know, in case she needs anything or whatever. Or Isabel. If either of them ever…" Drake trailed off. In his mind, he was doing a pretty good job of explaining himself, but Macy just kept staring at him like she thought the earth had just shifted on its axis. Drake smiled when he realized he had just dug himself into a hole. "You'll have to excuse me," he said, putting his hands into his pockets. "I'm tired. I should have probably just gone home when Tabitha went to bed."

"I think it's so sweet that you stayed," Macy said. She stood up, stretching toward the ceiling since it seemed like a natural thing to do at six in the morning.

It was during a silent moment of stretching that they suddenly heard the doorknob to Tabitha's bedroom begin to turn. It shook and jiggled several times, and they both knew there was a four-year-old on the other side. Drake and Macy both looked at each other with wide eyes.

"It's Izzy," she whispered. "Get down!"

Drake sat on the couch, crouching over to put his head down by his knees, and the next thing he knew, Macy had thrown a blanket completely over him. Drake could see nothing, but he heard the sound of the door finally opening before it closed again. Drake heard the little girl's footsteps as she ran across the room.

"Hey Aunt Macy, I woke up."

"I see that, peanut. You sure you don't want to go back to bed? It's early."

"I'm suwe. Mama said you was pwobably waking up, and she said if you can get me some ceweal and put on a cawtoon so she can sleep till seven, and then I can wake hew up."

There was silence after Isabel spoke, and Drake just sat there quietly. He hated hiding from her.

"Did you know we went to a birfday pawty last night, and Dwake cawwied me home, and he was at my house when I fell to sleep?"

"I didn't know that," Macy said.

"And we got two cakes. One at my favowite cake stowe and one at the birfday pawty. They awe both still in the fwidge."

"You had a big day."

"Yep, I did," she said. "And I got to go with my mama to wowk."

"I knoooow," Macy said. Drake knew by the way she said it that something was happening. She remained quiet, but her fluctuation revealed the panic in her voice. Seconds later, Drake felt a heavy weight collapse onto him, squishing him and making him shift to the side. He knew it was Macy because the weight of the person leaning on him was significantly heavier than that of a petite four-year-old.

"She's coming over here. Just be quiet," he heard Macy whisper urgently.

"Just let me get up and explain this to her," he whispered back.

"No!" Macy's whisper was impassive, so Drake decided to sit there and wait it out even though he hated every second of hiding from Isabel.

"Why awe you sitting like this?" Isabel asked.

Drake could hear that her voice was closer. He could even hear her little low giggle at the sight of Macy.

"Why awe you being this silly, Aunt Macy?"

"Because... you little rascal." Macy left the couch, and went to the little girl, sweeping her off her feet in an effort to distract her.

"Awe you going to yew wace?"

"Yes ma'am, I am. And what are you doing up so early?"

"I was lookin' fow Dwake," she said. "I fought he was still out hewe."

"Why'd you think that?" Macy asked.

"Because he came to my house aftew the birfday pawty, and him and my mom were tellin' each othew stuff while I was sleeping."

"How'd you hear them if you were sleeping?" Macy asked.

"I didn't. I just saw them."

"Then how'd you know what they were talking about?"

"I just did."

"Did you spy on your mama?" Macy asked playfully.

"I just saw them sitting out hewe, and then I closed my eyes."

"Well, you did good."

"But I thought Dwake would be hewe when I woke up."

"Aww, I'm sorry," Macy said.

"Is he gonna be my dad, you fink?" Isabel asked the question as if it were the next logical thing to say.

"Noooo, goodness, no," Macy said, instantly. Drake could hear her begin to pace, walking away from the couch and into the kitchen. He was not a hide under a blanket type of guy, but he sat there, at war in his own thoughts about what would be best for the child—to stay hidden or come out and be honest with her.

Macy continued by switching the subject to breakfast cereal, but Isabel's words kept replaying in his head. She had been so sweet and genuine when she asked, that the memory of it made Drake's heart break. His chest was in physical pain at the memory of how expectant and sweet she had sounded when she asked. He hated himself for hiding, but didn't know what else to do. He was sitting there, listening to the girls talk quietly about cereal from the nearby kitchen when he heard a door open, followed by the sound of footfall.

"Oh, my goodness, thank goodness," Tabitha's voice said. "I was so sleepy when she got up that I just forgot things might not be in order out here, and I sent her straight out. I totally forgot there was a chance that…"

"That I'd be at the race already?" Macy asked, cutting her sister off. "Nope, I'm here. It's early, though. Why don't you guys go back to bed for a few minutes?"

"I don't think I could go back to sleep," Tabitha said.

"I couldn't eithew. I wanted to get up cause I thought Dwake was gonna be ovew hewe."

"Why'd you think that?" Tabitha asked, crossing to the kitchen.

"Cause I saw him ovew hewe when I was sleeping."

"Well, he did see us home and tuck you in last night," Tabitha said.

"Uh-huh," Isabel returned.

Drake heard them make a kissing sound and then a moaning sound like there was a hug taking place.

"Good morning, little peanut."

"Mownin'," Isabel said.

"Why don't you guys go get a little more rest?" Macy asked.

"Mom, is he evew gonna come ovew to my house again?" Isabel asked.

Drake could take it no longer. She was so expectant and precious that there was no way he could just sit there and let them talk about him like he wasn't there. He did the unthinkable. He cleared his throat. It was a really short, respectable throat-clearing, but he could no longer remain silent.

"Did you heaw that?" Isabel asked.

"I think you two are exhausted!" Macy said. "It is way too early to be up. Just go back to bed for a few minutes and I'll wake you up when I leave for the race. This place is a mess, and if you'll just go back to bed for like ten minutes—or even five—I could clean up a little bit, and everything would be back to normal." Macy's tone definitely implied that she was speaking in code to her sister, and there were a few seconds of silence while Tabitha put the pieces together. "It's too early for you to be up on a weekend, anyway," Macy urged. "I'll clean up the apartment, and then it'll be nice and clean when you wake up."

"I don't think it's diwty on the fiwst place," Isabel said.

"I think Aunt Macy's right," Tabitha said with understanding in her tone. "It's really early. I think maybe we should wake it up easy for a few minutes."

Drake stayed still, but his heart dropped at her words. He knew she expected him to be gone when they woke up, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought she wouldn't be able to let him leave now that she knew he was there. Obviously, he was mistaken, because the next thing he knew, there was the sound of a door closing, and Macy whispered, "Okay, the coast is clear."

Chapter 9

Isabel and I had only been in the bed for a few seconds when I hopped up again. "Stay here for just a minute," I said. "I'm gonna come lay by you, but I have to ask Aunt Macy something real quick."

Isabel smiled and nodded at me. She was too sweet and innocent to draw attention to my erratic behavior, a fact for which I was extremely grateful.

"I'll be right back," I said from over my shoulder at the door. Isabel waved at me from her place in the middle of my queen-sized bed, and I knew by how comfortable she was that she was staying in place—at least for a minute.

I turned and made my way to the living room as quickly as possible. Macy was folding up the blanket that Drake had been using for cover, and she gave me a wide-eyed glance when she saw me.

"Where is he?" I asked.

She tossed her thumb over her shoulder. "Gone."

She looked at me like I should be relieved—like I would be ecstatic to learn that he had left. My face fell, and with it, so did hers. I knew I needed to let him leave, but I couldn’t stand the thought of knowing he was close by and still just letting him walk away without even seeing him.

"I hate for him to leave. I really wish I would have told him goodbye."

She pointed to the hallway again, still wearing a slightly confused expression. "I'm sure you can catch him," she said. "He just walked out the door."

I instantly took off in the direction of Drake, but then I was pulled back to Isabel. I glanced at Macy with a pleading expression. "Could you please go lay by Isabel for a minute? Just tell her I'll be right back?"

Macy smiled and nodded. I was so relieved to have her there to cover with Isabel. I walked toward the door, thinking about all the things I'd say to Drake when I caught up with him. I'd thank him for a fun evening and for staying till Macy got home even though it almost got us both in trouble.

He was already way down the hall by the time I opened the door and stepped out of my apartment. He had pressed the button for the elevator and was standing in front of it, waiting for the door to open. He saw my movement in the hallway, and he looked my way.

I smiled and made a tiptoeing gesture that included putting my finger over my mouth like I was trying to be quiet as I headed toward him. He smiled and started walking in my direction. There were five or six doors between us, and we closed the distance, both of us smiling like we were relieved to see each other. He was gorgeous, and my heart fluttered as a result of being on the receiving end of his smile. Neither of us said anything, but his smile faded as we closed the gap and came to stand only a foot or two apart.

He was going to kiss me—I knew it by the way he looked at me. I maybe should have said something to stop him. There was a second or two where I could have done or said something to stop him. The thing was, I didn't want him to stop. I wanted more than anything to kiss Drake Salinger, so when he leaned in to put his mouth on mine, I not only let it happen, but I grabbed onto him, gripping his forearms in a way that definitely encouraged him.

I had talked to him so much the night before that I felt like I knew him for who he was—like he had let me see his heart, his soul, what he was really about. I knew I should feel guilty about desiring him so much, and I had done my best to discourage any physical contact the night before, but there was absolutely nothing I cold do to stop myself from falling headlong into his kiss.

I wanted so badly to be close to Drake that it was literally impossible for me to do anything but kiss him back. He kissed me like he assumed that's what I had come out there to do. And you know what? Maybe I had.

Drake kissed me deeply, and I let him, pulling him closer for several long, intense seconds before we finally and reluctantly broke contact. We were both breathless as we stared at each other wearing half smiles. I stretched up and put another kiss right on his mouth just to let him know how I felt about the first one. This caused his smile to widen.

"I just came out to tell you goodbye," I whispered.

His hand had been resting lightly on the back of my waist, but he gave me a little squeeze, which prompted me to hug him. I placed the side of my face on his chest and gave him a tight hug, holding onto him in much the same way Isabel had done. It felt great, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Drake was holding me as tightly as I was holding him. We stayed like that for a few seconds before I took a step back. I smiled at him and bit my lip as if uncertain of what to say. "Thank you," I said. "Thanks for everything. I had a lot of fun last night, and so did Isabel."

"I want to do it again," he said.

"We should sometime," I agreed.

"Sometime is so noncommittal."

"Maybe I can call the studio and get on your books," I said.

He smiled. "Maybe you should."

"Okay then, I will."

"That seems like it'll be too long," he said.

"Are you booked?" I asked.

"Really booked," he said. "I'm busy for like the next two months."

"I guess I better just call and take the first available."

"What if you're already back in Hartford by then?" he asked, since we had discussed the possibility of Izzy and me moving back home after Macy and Ethan got married.

I knew Drake was baiting me to see how I'd react to him saying I'd be back in Hartford, but I called his bluff. I shrugged. "Even if I'm living back there, I'd drive to the city for a photo shoot with the famous Drake Salinger."

He stared at me like he was trying to figure out what to say next, and I smiled and tilted my head at him. "I'll see you soon," I said.

"Today?" he asked. "I have some work to do later this afternoon, but I have the morning off. Let's go get some breakfast. You and Iz can come with me to the studio, and I'll take your picture before I have to work." He paused and shrugged. "You said you have the day off," he said.

"I thought you just said it would take months to fit into your schedule."

"That's if you talk to my assistant."

"I guess I'd rather talk to you, then," I said. I wanted to have the strength to refrain from falling for this guy, but I just didn't.

"If it was up to me, you and Isabel would meet me in a little bit for an early lunch, and then I'll take your picture before I go to work."

"Then, that's what we'll do," I said.

He gave me a satisfied smile, and we both hesitated, knowing I had to get back inside.

"This is weird, but I don't have your number," I said.

"Meet me at my studio at ten-thirty. Your sister has the address. We can exchange numbers later."

"What should we wear?"

"Clothes."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Just be yourself," he said.

"I am myself."

"Good."

"You're yourself, too."

He smiled. "Yep, I sure am."

"And I'm gonna see you in a few hours," I said.

"Yep, you are."

"Okay, so bye."

He smiled. "Bye," he said. He just stood there and gave me that easy smile.

"I'm gonna kiss you again," I said. I awkwardly rocked forward onto my toes, popping up to place a kiss on his cheek. I hesitated for a second wondering whether I should kiss his cheek or his mouth, but I went with his cheek. He smiled at me briefly like he thought I was cute before ducking to kiss my mouth. His lips were soft and warm, but he kissed me swiftly before gently pinching my arm in a gesture of goodbye.

"I'll see you in a while," he said.

"Okay."

Without another word, I turned and headed to my apartment. Drake got to the elevator at the same time that I got to my door, and we looked back at each other just as I headed inside. I waved at him, and he waved back, and off I went to my bedroom.

Macy was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking down at Isabel, who was still curled up in her spot. She sat up when I came in the room.

"Whewe did you go?" she asked.

It had only been a minute since Drake's mouth was on mine, and in the rush of it all, I had forgot to consider that my daughter's first words when I got back would likely be to ask me where I had been.

"I went down the hall for a minute. To talk to someone."

"Who did you talk to?" she asked the question so point blank, that I answered with the truth without even thinking about it.

"Drake."

"Did you talk to Dwake?" she asked, sitting up even straighter, and peering into the living room.

"He's not here, but yes, I did, and he said he's gonna take our picture."

"He is?" Macy asked.

I nodded.

"Today?" Isabel asked.

I nodded. "In just a few hours. We have to get dressed soon.

Isabel squealed, letting out the sound that I'd been holding in since we converged in the hallway for a kiss that was at least as memorable as I imagined it would be. I felt an ache in my chest at the memory of it. It was a longing feeling, the likes of which I had never experienced.

"What awe you laughing at?" Isabel asked.

"Nothing," I said. "I was laughing at myself."

"Did Drake really tell you he was taking pictures for free?" Macy asked. It was probably the last thing I expected her to ask, so I glanced at her with a curious expression. She shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure he said that because he's big-time now. He gave me and Ethan the friends and family rate for our engagement photos. It was a fraction of what he normally charges, and even still it was like…" She paused and hesitated, trying to remember how much they had paid Drake.

"Well, I think he was planning on doing it for free," I said. "But now I feel bad. I guess I should go expecting to give him something. I should at least buy his lunch."

"Oh, yes, I would love to buy Dwake's wunch," Isabel said. She spread her arms and fell onto her pillow lavishly, like buying Drake's lunch was the most luxurious thing she could think of.

Macy reached out and tickled Isabel. "Where are you gonna get enough money to take Drake to lunch, you little monkey? Did you get a joooob?"

Isabel giggled. "No silly, I went to my… (giggling) I meant my mom will… (giggling) I will tell my moooom to buy Dwake's wunch."

"I don't know if your mom wants to spend her paycheck feeding that big ugly oaf," Macy said. She was intentionally pushing Isabel's buttons, and it worked. Isabel stared at her aunt with a stunned expression. "I'm just picking," Macy said. "I love Drake."

"I love Dwake, too," Isabel said.

I glanced at Macy and she looked at me with wide eyes and mouthed the words, "I need to talk to you."

I was not the type of person who liked to put off a conversation when it was within my ability to go ahead and have it, so I furrowed my eyebrows at her. "About what?'" I mouthed.

She shifted her head almost imperceptibly, telling me I should join her in the living room.

I looked at Isabel with a smile. "I'm going to go tell Aunt Macy 'bye' since she's leaving for her race. We can still wake it up easy for a little bit before we get dressed. I'll be right back to lay by you."

"Okay," she said. "Bye Aunt Macy, love you, hope you have fun."

"Hope you have fun, too, peanut." Macy said as we made our way to the living room.

"We will have fun," Isabel called, "And I will show you the pictuwes we take."

"Okay, great. Love you!" Macy called.

Isabel was returning the sentiment as we walked into the living room. I leveled my sister with a serious expression. "What?" I asked since it was the first thing you should say when someone says we need to talk.

"I think you should both just take a minute and step back a little bit," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I see how Isabel is acting about Drake, and I see how you are acting, too. I can tell he kissed you out there, Tab, and I feel like I need to just remind you…" she trailed off looking at me with an expression that said I should know what she was about to say.

"Remind me of what?" I said with an annoyed look on my face.

She let out a frustrated groan. "That Drake has dated a few different… several different girls since I've known him. There's been quite a few."

"So, what are you saying? That he uses women? That he can't be trusted?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm friends with Drake. I'm the one who brought him around."

"Do you think I can't take care of myself after all this stuff at work?" I asked, somewhat defensively.

"No. That's not what I'm saying at all. I'm just saying… uhhh, I see how Isabel's acting, and I see how you're acting, Tabitha. I didn't expect either of you to fall for him like that."

I shook my head at her. "Nobody's falling for anyone."

Chapter 10

I was so angry and hurt by Macy's warning that I went straight into the apartment and composed a note to J.R. (After taking a few minutes to wake it up easy with Isabel, of course.) Macy's warning had nothing to do with J.R., but it had me feeling like I needed to take up for myself in some way, so I sat down and wrote an email.

J.R.,

I am taking the next few days off. I'll be back for my shift on Wednesday, and I'll handle covering the ones I'll miss between now and then. I will finish out the next two weeks, but this is my official notice. I am leaving the company. I have served Patterson & Ray faithfully for the past 6+ years, and I would like to ask that my letter of referral reflect that. All I need is a statement or two about my efforts on the job, which have been exemplary. I wanted to come to you, but if it's too much to ask, I can go to Michael. I can go to him with everything. Thank you for your time and consideration on this matter, and I wish you and your family all the best.

Tabitha

I read it twice, but still couldn’t make myself press send. I decided to give myself a few minutes to think about it. She hadn't meant for it to be that way, but Macy's words of warning about Drake had me feeling weak and out of control of my life. It was for this reason that I wanted to press send immediately and start making changes… but I didn't.

I closed my laptop and headed into the living room where I found Isabel, watching cartoons. I had given her some fruit, but there was now an empty plate on the coffee table.

"We gotta pack our suitcases," I said, coming into the room.

Isabel popped onto her knees wearing a huge grin. "Whewe awe we goin'?"

"Nana and PopPop's."

"We awe, today?" Isabel asked. Her voice was so curious that she almost squeaked getting the words out.

"Yep," I said. "We need to get dressed and pack our bags."

She had been smiling, but it faded. "I fought we was goin' to Dwake's," she said.

"I was just thinking about that," I said. "We can either pack now and take our luggage with us to Drake's on our way out of town and just leave straight from there. Or we could just call him and tell him we changed plans and decided to go out of town." I shrugged. "He'd understand. We could do the pictures another time."

"I think we should go ovew thewe on ouw way to PopPop and Nan's. Dwake will be happy fow us to come ovew. Plus, you said you wanted to take a pictuwe of me while I still have on my cast."

"Okay," I said. "We'll go to Drake's, and we'll leave straight from there."

She smiled and nodded at me, and I reached down to ruffle her hair. I wished I could be totally in the moment with her, but the truth of it was I was completely preoccupied with whether or not I should send that email to J.R. I was so mad at myself for not being able to fully give my attention to this precious little girl that I marched into my bedroom, opened my computer, and pressed send.

I regretted it instantly. There's one thing we all know about email, though. It's a sad but true fact that you can't do anything to unsend them once they're sent.

I was so full of nervous and anxious energy that I got both of us packed and got myself dressed while simultaneously making phone calls and working from my computer to cover my shifts at work.

Those couple of hours passed in an absolute blur, and the next thing I knew, it was just after 10:30, and I was standing at the door of Drake's studio with luggage in hand. It felt odd seeing Drake after what Macy had said to me. I certainly didn't feel like having my picture made, but I was experiencing guilt as a parent, and Isabel was extremely excited about it, so there I was.

"What's all this?" Drake asked, smiling as we came inside with our bags. "Wardrobe changes?"

"We'we goin' to spend fwee nights at PopPop and Nana's house aftew this. And I have a tweat fow Bingo in my bag. He's Nana's dog. And I'm gonna get my cast off next week. We will be back fwom PopPop's by then."

Drake looked at me as if wanting me to translate. Isabel had been excited and was speaking quickly. He had obviously missed some of it.

"We're going to Connecticut for a few nights," I said. I tried to smile, but I had so many emotions going on that it didn't come easy.

Drake could see that something was bothering me, and his expression changed to one of concern.

"I put in my notice at Patterson," I said. "I emailed them earlier." I tried to smile again, and I shrugged, gesturing to Isabel. I hadn't told Isabel anything about quitting my job, so I was telling Drake through subtle gestures that I didn't want to make a big deal about it in front of her. "We're gonna head up to my parents' for a few days so I can sort through some things and wait to hear back from them. I'm just trying to figure out what's next."

As a result of all the serious conversation, we had barely moved from our place at the entryway of the studio, but Isabel couldn’t resist any longer. She headed to the other side of the sprawling room where there was a lovely vintage red velvet couch. She was good at busying herself when she knew I was having an adult conversation, so she went on her way, checking out his furniture.

Drake took my bags and set them on the floor nearby. He headed slowly across the room, assuming I would follow him, which I did.

"This is amazing," I said, looking around. There was a hallway with a few doors, but the studio was huge and open with what must have been four or five distinct areas—all separately appointed with their own furniture and backdrops. One area had an industrial feel while the next had a warm, vintage feel.

"This is quite an operation," I said.

"Your smile is quite an operation."

"What do you mean?"

"When I left you this morning, your smile was only about eighteen percent melancholy, and now it's more like eighty-seven or eighty-eight."

He smiled at me, and I smiled back. I told myself I wasn't going to let him affect me that way, but Drake was too sweet for me to resist. I realized he had drawn a real smile out of me within the first minute, and I glanced down shyly.

"This morning was more like twenty-two, and now like sixty," I said, in my own defense.

He shrugged. "Still a significant jump, don't you think?"

I returned his shrug. "I'll get over it," I said quietly. "I'm just nervous about quitting work. It'll be good to see my parents—get out of town for a few days and clear my head."

"You almost seem like you're not coming back."

"I've thought of it," I said. "I have to come back and get my stuff, obviously. And I wrote in my email that I would finish out two more weeks at work."

"Well, I don't know if it matters, but my vote is for you to come back to New York."

"That's sweet," I said noncommittally. "Isabel and I would both miss it here."

Drake saw that I was in a contemplative mood, so he took over from there, announcing our brunch plans. He made conversation with Isabel the whole time we were out. By the time we had finished, he had asked her all sorts of questions. He asked her opinion about school and my job and our daily way of life, and Isabel answered everything with precious candor that had Drake glancing at me with amazed expressions the whole time.

I glanced at my phone three or four times during our meal to check and see if J.R. responded to my email, but he never did. We went back to Drake's studio right after breakfast, and Drake began taking pictures of us. He was a true professional, because somehow, during the hour-long photo shoot, I went from guarded and distant to actually being in the moment and enjoying our time together for what it was. Drake was in control the whole time, telling us exactly where to sit or stand and how to act. He took what must have been a hundred photos before finally setting his camera on the desk.

"I got some good ones," he said. He put his hands in his pocket, and I stared at his masculine charms, thinking it was no wonder Izzy and I were both so smitten. I glanced at his forearms, remembering the way I had held onto them that morning in the hallway while he kissed me. How had things changed so much between then and now?

"Do you want to take a look at them?" Drake asked. "The pictures?"

"We should get on the road," I said. "But thank you. And thank you for lunch. I really wish you would have let me buy that."

He regarded me with a smile that was laced with disappointment—like he knew I was pulling away. I had the urge to throw myself into his arms, so I glanced away. My gaze fell onto Isabel who was over by the windows, looking out at the city. "Time to go, sweet pea!" I called.

Isabel started toward me, skipping and smiling, and not reflecting any of the angst I felt.

"Tell Drake 'bye' and 'thank you'," I said.

Isabel threw her hands in the air for Drake, and he scooped her up, hugging her and making her giggle so much that I couldn't stand to watch. I left them there to finish their goodbyes, and I headed toward the door to pick up our bags.

"Let's go, Izzybeans," I said once I got there.

Drake had picked Isabel up to say goodbye, and instead of just letting her down, he walked her to the door. He pulled a card out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to me just before setting Isabel to her feet.

"My cell phone is written on the back," he said. "The email address comes to me, too."

"Oh, good, thank you," I said, smiling and putting the business card into my pocket without even looking at it. "I'll text you later so you can have mine, too, in case you need to get in touch… you know, for pictures or whatever."

Drake gave me a little smile and nod, but he knew I had pulled away from him some, and I could see the resolve in his expression. I hated doing it. I was so mad at my sister for making me question my feelings for him.

"Come back, okay," Drake said.

"We will, we'll be back for school on Thursday," I said lightheartedly as I ruffled Isabel's hair.

I gave Drake a quick hug to tell him goodbye. I knew by the way he held on to me longer than I held onto him that he wanted our departure to be more meaningful than it was. I wanted it to be that way too, but I just couldn't give in, not with everything else I had going on.

"Dwake?" Isabel said.

"Yes."

"I like youw house, and I like youw studio. I fink you have the most fun ovew hewe at youw wowk."

"I do have a lot of fun at my work."

"I could tell because you took pictuwes of us and it was fun, huh?"

"Yes it was," he said. "I had a lot of fun."

"And we went to that birfday pawty, and we ate wunch."

"I know," Drake said. "It was fun, huh?"

Isabel nodded seriously. "I want to do it again tomowwow," she said.

"Iz, we're going to Hartford," I said. "And Drake's got stuff going on. You can't just see him whenever. He took our pictures because that's what he does for a job, and he was nice enough to offer to do some work for us one time for free."

"I can do it for free as many times as I want," Drake said, talking to Isabel like I wasn't even standing there. "That's my name on the door. You know what that means?"

"That you awe in chawge?" she asked.

"Yep, I'm in charge." He high-fived Isabel and then looked straight at me as he held the door open for us. "Please text or email so I can send you some of these pictures."

"I will," I said. "Thanks again for taking them, and for lunch. Thanks for everything."

Chapter 11

It was close to dinnertime when Isabel and I made it to my parents'. My mom and dad were both at home. Dad had bought himself an old Ford Mustang, and he was in the garage with his head under the hood when I pulled into the driveway. I was driving a small hatchback I had rented in the city, and I parked it right behind his classic car.

Isabel had only recently learned how to let herself out of a seatbelt, and she did so as soon as I put the car in park.

"Thewe's PopPop," she said. "He's wowking on his caw."

"I know, but I have to let you out before you can go see him."

Isabel bounced on the seat with excitement. Dad had made it over to me by the time I got out of the car, so I gave him a hug just before I reached out to open the back seat and let Isabel out.

"Where's my little girl?" my dad asked in a great, bellowing voice. He put the side of his hand to his forehead and looked around with intensity.

"I'm wight hewe, PopPop!"

"I hear her!" he said.

"Wight hewe!" she said, laughing and tugging at his shirt.

"Right here?" he asked. He stared down at her in sweet amazement, and she giggled and held her arms up, inviting him to carry her. "How's my little girl?" Dad asked, hugging Isabel.

"Good," she said.

"Looks like you still got that thing on your arm."

"Uh-huh, but I get it off in fouw days. And I bwought a tweat fow Bingo."

"He's gonna love that. He's inside with Nana." He turned to me with a smile. "How's my other little girl?" he asked, reaching out to give me another little sideways hug.

"We're good," I said. I had always been pretty good at hiding my real emotions, but I had a lot on my mind, so my casual attitude was slightly less convincing than normal. I sent that email to J.R. way earlier that morning. It had been like nine hours, and still no response. I had checked my sent folder twice, rereading the email both times. I kept telling myself it was the weekend, and he probably hadn't checked his email, but I knew that was untrue since J.R. lived on his phone.

Anyway, I hated not hearing from him.

I spent the next few hours catching my parents up on everything Isabel had been doing in school, and getting her settled in for the night. I kept everything light and fluffy while Isabel was awake. I had checked my email just about every hour throughout the day, but I never heard from J.R. The day passed quickly, though, and before I knew it, Isabel was sound asleep in my old room.

I checked my email one more time before I went back into the living room to talk to my parents. There was nothing from J.R., but looking at my phone made me think about contacting Drake. I fished his card out of my back pocket and typed his number into my contacts. I went ahead and put in his email address while I was at it. I started to send him a text, but I changed my mind. I even composed one and deleted it, deciding that I needed to take a day to clear my head.

I took a long shower, washing my hair and shaving my legs, and doing all the things I usually put off. In spite of being unsettled with work, I felt clean and cozy at my parents' house. My mom had ice cream in the freezer, and I made myself a big bowl of it before popping down on their comfortable couch. My dad had a baseball game on TV, and my mom was sitting next to him with her nose in a magazine. I sat down beside her, and she readjusted to make room for me.

"Is she out?" Mom asked.

"Like a light."

"She sure does like that Drake guy," Dad said.

I had not expected him to say that, and I honestly wasn't prepared to talk about Drake. I had just been about to tell them I quit my job, and I found it difficult to switch gears.

"Yep," I said. "I quit my job. At least I tried to. I haven't heard back from them yet, but I put in my two-weeks notice earlier today, right before I came here."

"Why'd you do that?" my mom asked. She peered at me from over her reading glasses with a look of concern.

"Because I wasn't getting along with my manager," I said.

Dad leaned forward so he could look at me from the other side of my mom. "I thought you were the manager," he said.

"I am, I was. I was the store manager. But I have a boss, and so does he. There are people I have to deal with—answer to."

"Were they being unfair?"

"I don't know if you want to call it that."

My mom stared at my father and then me as if she didn't know what to make of all this.

I let out a long sigh. "I'm not working there anymore, and I don't have another job, yet. I'm at a crossroads, and right now, I'm just trying to decide whether I want to move back home and start over or try to stay and make a go of it in New York."

They were both quiet for a few seconds, and my mother was the one who broke the silence. "Yeah, because Macy's gonna be getting married," she said. "I know she'll be moving out, and it would be all on you to pay for that apartment. Are you month-to-month on that place?"

I nodded. I sat there for what must've been a full minute, taking small bites of the chocolate ice cream that was in my bowl and doing my best to forget about all the big decisions I had to make.

"What does your heart tell you?" My mom asked, pulling me back to reality.

In that moment, I silently asked my heart what it wanted, and the only thing that came to mind was Drake.

There I was, on my parents' couch, wrapped up in a blanket while eating chocolate ice cream. Moving back to Hartford was the obvious choice. My parents would gladly welcome Isabel and me to live at their house while I got my feet on the ground with a new job. I should have started making plans to move back home as soon as I finished my two weeks at work, but honestly, moving back home was the last thing I wanted to do. Mom asked what my heart was saying, and the truth was that it was saying I should stay in the city. I clearly wasn't going to tell my parents that the main reason I wanted to do so was because I had become hopelessly infatuated with some photographer I had just met.

"My heart wishes I could try to make it in New York," I said. "But I know it's gonna be hard for a little while without benefits and everything." I let out a long sigh at the thought of switching over a bunch of paperwork and possibly having to apply for some sort of state healthcare for Isabel. I hated paperwork. The whole thing was overwhelming, and I felt like all I wanted to do was forget about all the pending change in my life and disappear into my bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"Well, you know you are always welcome to come home," Dad said.

I gave him a little smile. "I know. And, thank you. It still might be a possibility, I just wanted to take a few days to think about it."

"You got Isabel all situated for kindergarten in the fall," my mom said, thinking out loud. "But all you'd have to do is put her in school here if you decide to come back home."

"I've already thought about all that," I said. "I think I'm just gonna wait to hear from my boss. A lot of it will hinge on whether or not they're gonna give me a good referral."

"Of course they will!" my mom said. "They're probably gonna beg you to stay and give you a raise once they read the note that you're leaving."

Dad sat back on the couch, looking relaxed, like he had all the confidence in the world that I'd be able to get any job I wanted.

"They better be fair to you," Mom said. "You've worked for them a long time. You've paid your dues. Is there some kind of severance package or something?"

I gave her an incredulous glance. "I'm not getting laid off, Mom. I'm quitting. There's no package. I'm just going to finish off these last two weeks and hope my last paycheck and my savings can get us by until I find something else. It's an awkward, stupid situation at work, and I don't really want to talk about it, but I'll get through it. I'll find something else. And if I don't, the back-up plan really isn't that bad."

She put her hand on my shoulder and regarded me with a slightly sad expression. "I could tell something was bothering you, sweetheart."

I leaned into her, letting our heads touch in an act of affection. "I hate strife," I said. "I've had to deal with people's drama as a manager, but I'm usually able to stay out of it—keep my distance. I hate having the drama be about me. I'm not used to this."

My mom rubbed my back again. "Honey, I don't know what to tell you. I wish you'd tell me what was going on. I know you're a hard worker, so if that's not good enough for them, then they don't deserve to have you."

I didn't bother explaining that my sudden departure had nothing to do with being underappreciated; she knew it was something deeper than that.

"Didn't you tell me somebody from the Gap had called and asked if you wanted to work there?"

I let out a humorless laugh at my mom's question. "That was when I was in high school, Mom. My friend, Brittany, who worked at the Gap called to see if I wanted to leave Patterson so I could go work with her."

"Well, I thought maybe she still worked there," she said.

I felt bad for being so amused by her suggestion that I said, "The Gap is an option, though. There is one of them not too far from my apartment."

"Would you be able to start out as manager?" she asked.

"I don't know. I don't know anything right now."

She rubbed my back again.

"Everybody goes through stuff, sweetheart. "You're strong. You always figure out a way to keep going when things don't go your way."

I smiled at her. "I wish I could figure out a way to make them go my way instead of having to make the best of it when they don't."

"Nobody can do that," Dad said. "That's not what life is. There's always going to be something coming up against you. And even when there's not—even when it seems there is nothing to complain about, you can find something. You're gonna have struggles, sweetheart. That's why we've always taught you to look for strength in something other than yourself."

"I know, I'm trying," I said. "And I'm thankful, I really am. I have a little put away in savings so that I can try to make it in New York for a few more months. I know Macy would like for us to stay in the city so she can see Isabel."

"Well, if your family is a factor, then we would like you here," my mom said.

"She knows that," my dad said. "Let her make up her own mind." He leaned over my mom and smiled at me again. "But your mother and I wouldn't mind having you girls closer."

***

I stayed in the living room, talking with my parents for an hour or so after Isabel went to bed. I found my phone and checked my email as soon as I got to my room. Again, there was nothing from J.R. I went to the sent folder one more time just to make sure it had actually sent. I refrained from reading it this time, which somehow felt like an accomplishment.

I stared at the screen.

I had already created a contact for Drake, and I went to it and pressed the button that took me to the texting screen. I composed a text to him.

Me: "Hello Drake, Tabitha here. I just wanted you to have my contact information. I am including my email address since I wasn't sure which means of communication was best for you."

I typed in my email address and pressed send, and not even a minute had passed before I heard back from him.

Drake: "Did you just say means of communication?"

Me: "Ha-ha. Sorry. I'm a big dork."

Drake: "You also wrote, Tabitha here."

Me: "Huge dork."

Drake: "No, but too formal."

I was in the middle of deciding what I was going to write back to him when he texted me a picture from earlier that day. It wasn't one of Isabel and me together; it was just me. I was sure Isabel was beside me at the time that it was taken, but this photograph was so closely zoomed in on my face, that she wasn't in the picture. It was my profile, and I believe I was looking at her.

I instantly focused on my own expression. I was in between smiles, and my face was relaxed and thoughtful looking. I got nervous looking at it, self-conscious, like Drake had captured some hidden aspect of me that I wasn't even sure I wanted him to see. I was tempted to not like the picture of myself, but then I focused on it differently and realized how beautiful the photography was—the actual composition of the whole thing. As a viewer, I really wanted to know what the girl in the picture was focused on and what she was thinking. There was a window behind my figure, and the placement of everything and the lighting were so perfect that I found myself ignoring all of my own insecurities, and instead, smiling at how beautiful it was.

I was staring at it, and trying to think of something to say to Drake (something that would do justice to the beautiful portrait he had just sent me) when another photo came through. It was another one of me. Just me. I knew he had taken several shots that were just Isabel today, but I honestly hadn't even been aware that he was taking some of just me. I was lost in thought, staring at yet another visually compelling photograph when a text came in from Drake.

Drake: "Who is this girl?"

I smiled when I read it, and then I started typing a response.

Me: "I think that's me, but I'm not sure. They really are beautiful photographs, Drake, and I'm not talking about me. Seriously. I see why you're famous. You make me look like a model."

Drake: "God made you look like a model, I just documented it."

Me: "Thank you, but your documenting skills are amazing."

Chapter 12

Drake and I had a conversation via text that lasted about an hour that night, and during it, he sent me a total of four photos from the shoot.

The first two were of me, then followed one of Isabel by herself, and then one of the two of us together. Drake said there were a few other photographs he loved from the shoot and that he would get them to me as soon as he had the chance.

I thanked him again. We exchanged texts for a little while after he sent the photographs, and I caught myself laughing and smiling and feeling like I really liked him. I tried to maintain distance at first, but toward the end of our conversation, my texts became a little more sweet and meaningful. I didn't mean for it to happen that way, but I was drawn to Drake, and in spite of the fact that we might be ill-suited for one another, I certainly didn't want him to think I was uninterested.

Before we said goodnight to each other, Drake made me promise to come by his studio once we both got back to the city. He said he had to go out of town right when I was coming home, but once he returned, he wanted to get together so he could give me some prints. It was a subtle way of saying he wanted to see me again, and I went to sleep that night, smiling at the fact that we had the excuse.

I woke up at 2am to the worst thing ever. Maybe there are a few worse things than a vomiting child, but I assure you, it's pretty bad—especially when the first of many rounds of vomiting happened directly in the bed next to me. It was, no doubt, one of the longest nights of my life, and as a single mother of a premature baby, I had experienced quite a few long nights. I won't burden you with the gory details, but let me assure you, it was bad. It was terrible.

Isabel woke up at 2am, and from there, things went from bad to worse. I handled it by myself until 5:30 when I woke up my mom for some much needed reinforcement. By 9am, we got in the car to take Isabel to the hospital. We made it all the way there, but we didn't take her inside. She fell asleep on the way, and was sleeping so soundly that we decided to take her back home. We all preferred to stay away from the hospital unless it was totally necessary, so we prayerfully drove her back home and put her to bed.

I was glad we made that call, because she was able to sleep for the next few hours, which was what she needed. I only got a few hours sleep the night before, so I stayed by her side, watching her rest until I dozed off with her.

I was up and down, but Isabel slept until almost noon that day. She was still feeling puny when she got up, but she was in much better condition than she'd been in the night before. She took a couple of sips of water, and my dad went to the store to get her some Jell-O, and popsicles. During the next few hours, she ate several bites of each of these and managed to keep everything down.

I hated seeing my child sick. It made me feel so helpless. I would much rather have these things happen to me than to watch her go through it.

So, the longest night turned into a long, dreamlike day, and the next thing I knew, it was Monday evening. My mom and dad were getting dinner, and watching the news, and going on with their life, but Isabel and I had been stuck in a weird time warp of a day where I was consumed with nothing other than being by her side.

It was Monday at around dinnertime when I realized I had done the right thing in postponing a hospital visit. Isabel felt like she could eat a few crackers and a couple of bites of chicken noodle soup. She also had some color back in her face, which was a much welcome sight for a weary mother.

My dad was watching Wheel of Fortune, and I was sitting at the table, watching Isabel watch him play along with the TV. My mom was standing at the kitchen sink with her back turned. None of us expected anyone to ring the doorbell, so it startled all of us when it happened. Not only that, but my parents' house was set-up in such a way where they almost exclusively used the side door.

We all looked at each other with puzzled expressions. My dad tossed the television remote onto the couch and got up to go to the door. I glanced at my mom who shrugged at me before craning her neck to try to see through a front window. After a short attempt to make out who it was, she glanced at me with another shrug, saying she couldn’t tell.

My gut told me who it was.

I knew it was J.R. I just knew it.

The television had gone to commercial and now seemed louder, but I could still hear the sound of men's voices as my dad answered the door. It was J.R. There was no doubt in my mind. The thought of it had me so stunned that I stayed motionless in my seat. I tried three or four times to make myself get up, and I just couldn't do it. It took me several long seconds of just sitting there, fighting with myself before I could finally muster up the strength to stand up and walk toward the front door.

I smiled absentmindedly at Isabel as I walked past her. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. I could see J.R. as soon as I turned the corner. He said something to my dad as he smiled and gestured toward me, and my dad stepped out of the way as if he thought I'd be happy to see the person standing there. I walked numbly through the foyer, staring straight at J.R. in intense silence before glancing at my dad. "Thanks Dad, I got this," I said with a completely straight face.

My dad, who had been smiling up until then, stared at me with a look of growing concern. I forced a smile. "It's my boss from work. I'm just gonna tell him what kind of night I've had, and I'm sure he'll be on his way."

My dad gave J.R. a reluctant expression as if he might actually feel bad for the guy. He gave the whole scene a once over, checking for my safety before walking away, leaving me standing face to face with J.R.

Maybe it was my own lack of bravery that got me into this situation in the first place, but I was anything but a coward right then. I had been up all night, watching my baby girl go through physical misery, and I was not in the mood to deal with this man. In hindsight, I would appreciate that it was the terrible, horrible eighteen hours that preceded J.R.'s visit that somehow gave me the strength to do what I did next.

I stepped out onto the porch and stood right in front of him, staring into his eyes with all the ferociousness of a mama lion. I was not messing around. I had never looked at J.R. the way I was looking at him right then, and we both knew it. He physically cowered under my stare.

"What in the world are you doing here?" My voice came out in a measured whisper.

He squirmed at my intensity, trying to smile and then changing his mind. His expression changed from happy to cautious and then back again several times all in the course of those few seconds. I just sat there and stared at him. I looked straight into his eyes and showed him how mad I was.

"I thought I'd come up here so we could talk," he said. He gestured all around himself. "It's not like it was hard to find you. This place is still listed as your primary residence."

"You have no business coming here," I said.

He smiled nervously. "Take it easy, Tabby."

"Tabitha."

"Tabitha. Take it easy. I just wanted to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. I've been up to my ears in sick daughter all night. I watched her cry and heave all night—to the point where we got in the car to take her to the hospital. I got no sleep. I am not even close to being in the mood to talk—especially when there's nothing to talk about. I gave my notice at Patterson & Ray, and that's all there is to it. There's nothing between you and me. You were doing stuff to me at work—stuff that I wasn't into, but I let you do anyway because I was scared of telling you to stop. Well, guess what, I'm not scared now. I'm exhausted and I'm disgusted, but I am not even close to being scared. I'm ticked at you for even putting me into this situation. I honestly don't care whether you give me a good reference or not. I'll talk to Michael or go over your head to get a referral if I need to. I'm willing to finish out the next two weeks because I don't want to put anyone in a bind, but I do not want you to be there when I'm working my shifts. I'm not gonna go around badmouthing you or anything, but you have to leave me alone, J.R. I'm telling you right now to leave me alone." I stared straight into his eyes, letting him see just how serious I was. "I don't want to see you again. Not at work, or at my parents' house, or anywhere."

"What happened to your daughter?" he asked.

"J.R. don't," I said. "She was sick, and she's doing better now. Please just get back in your car and go to the city. I'm sorry you came here."

"I wouldn't have if I knew you wouldn't be reasonable. I thought we could talk."

"We can't talk."

"Never?"

"No. Go, live your life, and I'm gonna live mine. I've got a daughter in there who really needs me." He could tell by the intensity in my expression that I truly wasn't scared of him, and I wasn't. I shot him a regretful smile before stepping inside the house.

"You're not getting anything from me," he said as I turned my back.

I spun around to glance at him, and he shook his head at me. "You're not getting a good reference from me, if that's what you think."

"Oh yeah, we'll see," I said, as I closed the door.

I leaned against the door, feeling mad at myself for not being able to think of something better to say. My mom peeked her head around the corner, looking at me like she had heard some or all of what had been said.

"Who was that?" she asked. "Was that your boss?"

I nodded.

"What's going on?" she asked.

I was too tired and out-of-it to take the time and explain everything to my mom. Plus, I didn't really want her to know any more of the details. I was embarrassed that I had gotten myself into this situation in the first place, so I did my best to push the whole thing out of my mind.

"Nothing," I said. "It's better now. I took care of it."

Chapter 13

I didn't get that much sleep that night. Isabel did a lot better than she had the night before, but I was still amped from everything that had happened with her the night before and from all the coffee I drank to keep myself awake during the day. I couldn’t turn off my brain. I thought about my conversation with J.R. and felt waves of regret. I thought about working six hard years for Patterson & Ray only to have it all come to an awkward end on my parents' doorstep. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. My life was not supposed to turn out like this.

It's impossible to fully appreciate depression when it's not happening to you. But when it is, you think about all the things you've heard other people say about it, and realize they were right. I normally did my best to remain an upbeat person, but my current circumstances weighed heavily on me. I didn't want to think about leaving New York, but it felt like leaving was my only option. The nighttime made it worse, and I was up and down, feeling sweaty, restless, and uncomfortable.

The next day was no better. Normally, I was the onward and upward type, but not on this day. This day, I woke up depressed. There was no other way to describe what I was feeling. I felt like I was being literally pressed down upon by some unseen force—so much so that I wondered if that's where the word depression came from.

Isabel was still a little ill that day, but she was recovering, and was definitely out of danger of going to the hospital. That was a relief, but I still felt overtaken by all the uncertainty that lay before me. It felt as though I was on water in a storm, being tossed about in an unstable raft. I felt blinded by the storm, like I didn't even know which way was up or in what direction to move.

There was some crying involved in that episode, so I had no other choice but to tell my parents a little bit more about what was going on with my work situation. I didn't tell them everything, but I was honest enough that they understood why I was emotional about it. I told them I just needed a day to be overwhelmed and cry a little bit, at which point I would get myself together and make a plan. My parents asked if I needed them to step in, but I refused, saying I had it under control.

Later that afternoon, my dad asked if I wanted to take the Mustang for a drive. He told me it was running well and I should take it out toward Candlewood Lake, which was about an hour away. I took him up on the offer, and left Isabel with my parents so I could look at some nature and clear my head.

I was driving down a scenic lakeside road when I got the feeling I had gone as far as I needed to go. There were places to pull onto the shoulder, and I merged to the side when I found one I liked. My intentions were to park and sit there for a while before turning back the way I came to head to my parents' house. My dad's Mustang had a radio, but I couldn’t find anything that fit my mood, so I just killed the engine, rolled the windows down, and sat there, soaking in the silence.

I asked God what he wanted me to do, and I waited there for about five minutes and got only silence.

I asked Him for a sign, and even though this might be silly for me to admit, I specifically felt like I wanted it to be some kind of animal sign. I had woods on three sides of me and a lake on the other, and I was convinced that God could show me a majestic animal of some kind to give me hope and let me know He was with me. I specifically thought I might see a bird—some big, amazing bird like an eagle. I stared out at the lake, imagining a soaring eagle. Even a crane, or a hawk, or an owl would be great. I took a deep breath and asked God to give me something, anything. I stared at the woods looking into the treetops and waiting patiently.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." I said out loud after a few minutes of silence. "I want to stay in New York, but I feel like it's for selfish reasons. I don't know what's right. I don't know what You want me to do."

That was all I said out loud, but my thoughts went on from there. I thought about all the scary things in my life… all the uncertain things, like Isabel's school, and her health, and my health insurance, and my job, and J.R., and Drake. I was so lost in thought that I stayed there, staring out at the lake and the woods for what must have been twenty minutes.

I happened to look toward my right at some point in all my pondering, and when I did, a little movement caught my eye. There was a visitor in the car with me—a big bug on the passenger's side headrest. I flinched slightly, but I tried not to make any sudden movements when I realized that it was a very large, intimidating-looking wasp. It was red and black, and I had never seen another wasp like it. I stared at it, trying to decide whether it was a wasp or a hornet, and wondering what the difference was. I had a whole chain of thoughts that ultimately concluded with me being convinced it was a wasp. Either way, it was scary.

It was only about two feet from my face, and I just sat there trying to be completely still and wishing it would fly out of the window the way it came. It was big and mean looking, and it stood comfortably on the headrest, daring me to make it leave.

Adrenaline began coursing through my body as realized I needed to make a move and tried to decide what to do next. It would take quite a bit of movement for me to get the car started and put it in drive, and I didn't necessarily want to stir things up with him right beside me.

"Please leave," I squeaked.

I stared at him, and he stared at me.

"Please," I whispered, trying not to even move my mouth.

He tilted his head at me, and we had a stare down for what must have been a full minute. I never knew that wasps had such a long attention spans, and I caught myself feeling so stunned that I just sat there and stared at him.

"Are you alive?" I whispered, since he hadn't moved. His wings started moving for a second, but he didn't fly away. "You're scary looking," I said, trying to be reasonable and state the truth. "But really, what's the worst that could happen? You sting me, right?"

I stared at the very bottom of his abdomen—at the intimidating needle-y protrusion that was ready and waiting to stab into something.

"That's really a gigantic stinger," I whispered. "I don't know why you think you have to come sit in here and show me that thing."

The wasp took a few steps toward me, and I took a sharp but quiet intake of breath, leaning back and anticipating the worst. I imagined myself swatting at him frantically and getting stung in the process. He stopped moving toward me, and I took my eye off of him long enough to glance at the door handle on my left. I figured my best option was to open the door and slowly get out of the car so I could wait for him to fly away.

It was then that I began having a whole series of thoughts. I thought about this wasp and how there was a very real danger of him stinging me with that very real stinger. But you know what? The chances of him stinging me were probably pretty slim, and even if he did decide to waste his time doing that, what was the worst that could happen? I stop at a drug store on my way home and get something to put on it? I had been stung by a wasp before, and I knew I would live to see tomorrow even if this thing did its worst to me.

And just like that, I wasn't scared anymore.

Just like that, my heart understood that if God had brought that wasp in there to sting me, then it would sting me and if not, then it wouldn't.

It was at that moment that I also understood the somewhat comical fact that this wasp was the majestic bird I was looking for. God had used this ugly little scary creature to speak to my heart. I felt tears begin to form as I understood what God was trying to tell me. Yes, I would come in contact with real, eminent danger in my life. Sometimes there would be wasps—there would always be wasps. Sometimes the wasp would sting me, and sometimes it wouldn't, and no amount of fretting or panicking I did in the process would change the outcome either way.

I felt peacefulness in my soul.

Not only about the wasp in the car with me right then, but also about all the other scary, dangerous, or uncertain things in my life. I was still staring at what was no longer a scary creature when it flew out of the window, and I sat there for a minute, thinking about that wasp and the whole series of thoughts he brought with him.

I felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest, and I thanked God for that. There was still plenty of uncertainty in my life, but I wasn't scared anymore, at least not in the ways I had been before I saw that wasp.

I laughed at myself for expecting to spot some majestic creature to only wind up getting scared to death and then moved to tears by a tiny little wasp.

I started the car, and drove along the lake road with the radio on and wind in my hair. I had been crying on and off all day, and it felt amazing for the cool air to dry my cheeks. I took my time on the drive, and I returned to my parents' house feeling much better than I had when I left.

Isabel was happy to see me, and I was encouraged by how much progress she had made that day. We had talked about postponing our return to the city until Thursday if Isabel didn't feel well enough, but she had felt better and better as the day went on, and was smiling and giggling with my dad by the time I got back from the lake.

My mom and dad could tell that I was doing better, but they didn't ask what had happened. They just pretended not to notice, but I knew they did. I put Izzy to bed that night, and when I came back into the living room, it was the first thing my mother said.

"That drive did you good today," she said.

"Yep."

"Did you go out to Candlewood Lake?"

"Yes. It was really pretty. I'm glad I went. Thank you for watching Iz."

"Do you think you'll head back to New York tomorrow?" she asked.

"Probably so," I said. "And I'm feeling good about staying a while longer. I think I should go ahead and try to make it work." I shrugged. "What's the worst that'll happen, I'll fail? I don't think I'll have any trouble finding a job. Macy said she could ask if I could take over her cleaning job at the collective if it comes to it, but I'm sure I'll be able to find something in retail. I'm good at what I do. I'd hire me if I owned a clothing store."

"Well, selfishly, I'd like you closer to home, but I'm glad you're feeling encouraged, honey. It's good to see you feeling better."

"Isabel was talking about that guy again," my dad said. "While you were gone. She was telling us about the pictures he took of you."

I felt a wave of anticipation at the thought of Drake, but it was followed by a few sudden doubts about his history with women and my history with men. But when the fears dashed across my mind, I automatically thought of them as wasps. That wasp had been right there in the car with me—just inches from me—for a prolonged period of time—and he still didn't hurt me.

"What are you smiling at?" my mom asked.

"I was thinking about those pictures," I said. (I was actually thinking of the photographer, but I figured that was close enough.)

"I want to see them sometime," she said.

"I have a few on my phone," I said.

"You do?" she asked, seeming stunned.

"Where'd you get those?"

"Drake texted them to me. I just have a few, but they're really neat. He's an extremely talented photographer."

My mom gave me a sideways, skeptical stare, like either she didn't know what to make of me saying Drake was extremely talented, or she didn't know why she hadn't yet seen the photos. "May I see this talent for myself?"

Chapter 14

"I think he might have a crush on you," Macy said, staring at the pictures Drake had taken of Isabel and me.

I let out a laugh. "That's exactly what Mom said. I had a few of them on my phone when I was in Connecticut, and she said they looked like they'd been taken by someone who loved me. That's how she described his photography."

It was now Thursday afternoon, and Macy and I were sitting on our couch while Isabel played with her toys in the bedroom. She had just gotten her cast off an hour before, so I took her to her favorite toy store to celebrate. I gave her a budget of ten dollars, and she chose a stuffed animal that looked like a little flat-faced dog. She was in the bedroom, introducing the new toy to the rest of the group.

"They do seem special," Macy said, still staring at the photos. "I see what Mom's saying, but I was referring to the fact that he did them for free. That's crazy. These are amazing. Did he give you all of these? Can you make copies and post them and everything? Are they yours?"

I shrugged with wide eyes. "I think so," I said. "He didn't tell me not to print them or post them. I hope it's okay because I already forwarded a couple of them to Mom."

"I want a couple of these for my new place," she said, as she scrolled through them. "A few of them, actually."

"Drake had some printed, too. He was excited about one of them being printed on some kind of special paper. I'm supposed to go by the studio to pick them up once he gets back in town."

Macy regarded me like she was trying to figure something out. It seemed like she was going to say something, and then she changed her mind. "Did he tell you he was going out of town?" she asked finally.

I nodded. "Until Saturday."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he tell you what he was going to do?"

I nodded and smiled at her. "A newborn photo shoot?"

"An exclusive newborn photo shoot with Amy Ambrose and her new baby," she said. Her eyes got wide. "It's gonna be in People magazine. And did he tell you what he's taking with him?"

I smiled and gave her a little nod. I already knew what he was taking with him… he just hadn't bothered to tell me where he was going. Amy Ambrose, really? He had told me that he was going to Martha's Vineyard to do a newborn photo shoot and that he would be taking the egg my sister painted with him. He did, however, neglect to mention that it was for Amy Ambrose. The American Idol winner turned pop icon had just given birth to her first child, and apparently, Drake was her photographer.

"I can't believe he's going up there for Amy Ambrose. I was already stoked for you when he said he was using the egg, but I had no idea who it was for."

Macy smiled and shrugged. "I'm trying not to get too excited about it. He doesn't know if she'll want to use it. He's taking a lot of stuff with him, so he was cautious with even telling me he was going to take it. I think he didn't want me to get my hopes up."

"It's still really cool that he's taking it with him."

"I know," she said. "I hope she uses it. I think it would make a really neat picture. I love how it's cracked open right there where the baby's laying."

For some reason Macy's statement made me picture the photo shoot itself, and I experienced a gut-wrenching sensation at the vision of Drake with Amy Ambrose in an intimate setting. She was married and I'm sure her husband was right there, but I couldn't help the wave of jealousy that hit me. I thought of that little fear of mine as a wasp, one that in all likelihood wouldn't sting me at all.

"Why are you so spaced out?" Macy asked.

"Because it started to feel weird for a second that he didn't tell me he was going to Amy Ambrose's, and then I realized, I didn't care as much as I thought I did. I mean, I cared, I just didn't feel weird about it. I wasn't scared of it. Never mind. I don't know what I'm saying."

Macy tilted her head at me. She had much curlier hair than me, and the mass of curls that were sitting in a round ponytail on top of her head, shifted to the side when she tilted her head.

"Are you and Drake seeing each other?" she asked.

"No."

"Well, you just went off on some long tangent about a bunch of stuff that made it seemed like you are. I didn't know you guys had been talking while you were gone."

"We did some," I said. "Text and email."

She leaned forward to set my laptop on the coffee table. "I want to get in on the next photo shoot so that I have one of the three of us together," she said.

"We already talked about taking a few more now that Izzy's cast is off," I said. "You should come up to the studio whenever we do it. Mom would love a picture of me and you together."

"Did you say you've already talked about taking more pictures?"

"Yeah, Drake mentioned doing it again when her cast is off."

"Did you talk to him a lot at Mom's?"

"Not really. We texted a little when he sent me the first few pictures, but mostly we were in touch last night after I got off of work. That's when he sent me the rest of these pictures."

"How long did you talk to him?" she asked.

"Last night?"

She nodded. "I don't know, a couple of hours. He emailed me a couple of times, then we switched to texting."

Her eyes got big. "What'd you talk about?"

"That's none of your beeswax," I said, teasing her. I stuck my tongue out at her just to drive home the point, and she laughed.

"Did you have deep conversations?" she asked.

"Yes." I said.

I thought she would ask another question to follow up, but she didn't.

"I had a really bad day last Tuesday. Monday, too. Monday and Tuesday were both pretty low for me. Anyway, I was having all these deep thoughts and they all culminated when I went for a drive in Dad's car and saw this wasp."

"A wasp?"

I nodded. "I don't know how to put it other than seeing it during these circumstances gave me a new perspective on fear. Anyway, I told Drake that story last night when we were texting—as good as I could since it was kind of hard to put into words. I don't know if that's what you mean by deep conversations, but yes, we didn't just talk about the weather."

"He must really be into you if you're having deep conversations and he's telling you to come to his studio to pick up prints—especially because I told him not to bother coming around unless he was serious."

"You did not!" I said.

She looked at me with a serious expression and nodded. "I did too. Ethan went over there with me."

"Did you threaten him?" I asked, looking shocked.

She shrugged. "We didn't threaten him, I just told him I would kill him if he messed around with you, trying be casual and broke your heart. I could see how much you and Isabel liked him and I didn't want to see either of you get hurt."

"Oh my gosh, Macy, did you seriously do that?"

"Yeah but it wasn't a big deal. It was a friendly conversation—not like I threatened him."

"You just said you told him you would kill him."

"I did."

"That's threatening!"

She smiled. "Obviously, he didn't take me seriously, or he wouldn't be texting you with all these deep conversations." She tilted her head again. "Or maybe he did take me seriously, and he's fully committed."

My stomach clinched at her words. Drake did want to be with me, I knew he did by the things he said and the way he said them. He was interested in me, and it honestly seemed like he cared about Isabel. I started to feel like it was too good to be true but then I labeled that feeling as a wasp. Against all odds, the scary little bug had become a symbol of peace to me, and I smiled at the way God would use such a contradiction.

"You are so in love," she said, seeing me smile.

"Nu-uh, I just feel good. I feel happy. Peaceful. I'm glad I made the decision to email Michael, too. Did I tell you I heard back from him?"

She shook her head. "I haven't seen you."

"He said they hated to lose me and would transfer me if I wanted to move and stay with the company."

"Did you tell him what happened with you and J.R.?"

I shook my head. "I told him there were personal conflicts. I complimented the company a bunch, and skirted around why I was leaving. I CC'd J.R. on the email. I was hoping for the best, and I think I got it. Mike said he'd have J.R. write my letter of recommendation from the company and added that they'd always like to have me back."

Macy shook her head in amazement. "Did you hear anything back from J.R.?" she asked.

"No."

"Mom told me he came by the house."

"I figured she would."

"Are you scared of him?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I think I might have been if I hadn't experienced the wasp. It sort of shifted my perspective about fear. I know that sounds crazy and honestly I don't know how long it'll last, but right now, I just don't really feel scared of things. If he turns out to be a problem, I'll deal with it then."

She smiled, looking at me sideways. "Are you some kind of zen master now or something?"

I smiled. "I don’t even know what zen is.

"You just seem so chill."

"I am so chill."

She flicked her head toward the coffee table, which looked like a shelf at Best Buy since both of our cell phones were sitting there, along with my laptop and Isabelle's tablet.

"Text him if you're so chill."

I made a confused expression, and she gave me a huge grin.

"You should pick up your phone and text him. I want you to. I want to see if he'll text you back." My sister let out a giggle like it was the most fun thing she could think of doing.

"What are you, in seventh grade?"

"Yes. What? So? He's my friend and you're my sister. My friend is trying to hook up with my sister. I want to text him. I want to see if he'll text back. I want to see what he'll say."

"I'm not gonna text him with you sitting next to me," I said. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then I'm going to text him from my phone."

"Don't. What are you gonna say?"

"I'm just gonna ask him if he loves my sister."

Chapter 15

"Macy, don't you dare. We are not in high school. You're not texting him to ask if he likes me. People don't do that."

"I can do that if I want," I said. "It's a perfectly natural thing for a person in my situation to ask."

I lunged for her phone, but she turned and easily evaded me. The worst part about the whole thing was that I secretly wanted her to send the text. I knew I should be above those types of things, but on the inside, I didn't mind at all that Macy wanted to reach out to him.

"What are you writing?" I asked. I acted nervous and reluctant about it, but Macy knew I didn't mind all that much. There were things I could have done to let her know I was serious about her not texting him, but I didn't do any of them. All I did was add a little disapproving tone to my voice, which was basically saying go ahead and do it. "What are you saying?" I asked as she typed. "Seriously, I don't know if it's a good idea. I was thinking it might not be so weird, but you know what, it's weird. He'll call me when he gets back in town. He said he would so that I could come by and get the prints."

"Do you not want me to?" Macy asked, staring at me with her thumb over the send button.

I shook my head. "Not yet. What'd you say?"

She stared at her phone, reading the screen. "I saw the pictures of my sister and niece. Bravo, and thanks for taking them! I want to get in on the next set."

"That's good," I said.

"I know." She pressed send before turning off her phone and throwing it onto the coffee table. "How much have you told him about your work situation?" she asked.

"I mean, I haven't given him exact details but he knows the general idea of what's going on. I haven't talked to him since I heard from Michael."

"You should tell him," she said. "I bet he'd be happy to hear about it."

"I don't know if we're to that point yet," I said. "Where I text to update him on something like that. I was just going to wait till I heard from him. I especially don't want to do it now that I know he's at Amy Ambrose's. Plus, you just sent him a text, anyway. I'm not trying to blow up his phone."

It was then that Macy's phone dinged, indicating that a text had come through. We both let out an excited squeal and then giggled at ourselves for doing it. One glance at the screen, and I knew by the little green bubble that it was a text message. Macy picked it up swiftly and held it to her stomach, turning from me like she wasn't planning on letting me see what it said.

"I get to read it first," she said.

"Why?"

"Because I’m the one who texted him."

I didn't care. I was too nervous to read it anyway. I just sat back on the couch and looked away. "It might not even be him," I said.

"Oh it's him," she said.

I straight sat up. "It is? Is it? What'd he say?"

"Hang on, shhh, let me read it." She stared at the screen for second and then up at me. "I am not letting you read this," she said.

My heart dropped. "Why?"

"Because it's way too sweet. It really is."

"You scared me. I thought it was bad," I said.

"It's good," she said.

"Let me see it."

She knew by my expression that I was serious, so she handed be the phone.

Drake: "Macy, I love your sister's face. I have a photo from the other day that I haven't even showed her yet because I want to be the only person who's ever seen it. She is a work of art. Not just on the outside. I see actual goodness coming through her pores. I'm hooked on Isabel, too. Congrats on being related to them."

I stared at Macy who grabbed her phone out of my hand.

"I've gotta respond to that," she said, typing out a text. "I'm not even going to ask you what you want me to say."

I didn't mind her taking the reins because honestly I didn't know what to say to him. I was speechless.

"What'd you say?" I asked, when she pressed send and sat back on the couch. "I said I'm sitting right next to you on the couch and that he could call and talk to you if he wanted."

"What? You did not. Did you? Please tell me you didn't do that."

I knew she had indeed done it when my cell phone began ringing. I stared at her with a panicked expression. "Oh, my gosh I can't believe you just did this."

"I can't believe you're going to leave him hanging after he said all that sweet stuff and is now calling you. He probably stopped in the middle of a photo shoot to do it."

She was pushing my buttons and teasing me at a time when I was already completely freaked out. I made a sisterly scowl at her as I picked up my phone and pressed the button to connect the call.

"I only have two minutes, if that," Drake said when he heard the call connect. He sounded like he was in a hurry, and I instantly hated my sister for making him call.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be. I wanted to call. I'm glad Macy told me you were sitting right there. I was gonna call you later to ask about Isabel's arm. How'd she do?"

"Good," I said. "It's skinnier than the other arm."

"Was she scared?" he asked.

"No. She was thinking about stopping at the toy store on the way home."

I heard him let out a tired sigh. "I want to know all about it, but they're waiting on me. Text me later tonight. I'm gonna be home at noon on Saturday. I have some things to take care of at my apartment, but I'll be at the studio by two or so. Will you meet me there?"

"Sure," I said.

"Okay, good. Text me later."

"Okay." I said.

"All right, bye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and stared at Macy.

"What'd he say?" she asked.

"A bunch of stuff," I said, feeling dazed.

"Sounded like he was asking about Iz."

"He was."

"Who was?" Isabel asked from the doorway.

"Nobody. I was talking to Aunt Macy."

"Dwake?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"What was he asking about me?"

"About your cast."

"Did you tell him I took it off?"

"Yes."

"What did you say?"

"That you got your cast off today and you got to pick a toy."

"Did you tell him what kind of toy?"

"No, but I'll tell him later."

"What did he say? Tell me all the things."

"You mean about the cast?" I asked.

She nodded.

"He asked if you were scared to get it off."

"What did you tell him?"

"That you were brave."

"Was he pwoud of me?"

I nodded. Macy's knee pressed into my leg. Isabel went back into the bedroom, and I looked at her.

"Did he mention being at Amy's house?" she asked.

I shook my head. "He just asked about Isabel and then asked if I would meet him at his studio this Saturday."

"Did he say a specific time?"

"Afternoon. I think he mentioned 2 o'clock."

"I was supposed to work a shift at the collective," she said. "But, I'm only there till 3, and Isabel would have fun being up there for a little while, anyway. You could drop her off with me before you head over to Drake's. Why are you looking like that's a bad idea?"

"I'm not, I just didn't even think of… I'm just thinking about what you're saying. I guess I just assumed she would come over there with me."

I saw some movement in the doorway and Macy and I both turned to find that Isabel was standing there, listening to us.

"I thought you could hang out with me at S&S while your mama goes to visit with Mr. Drake this Saturday."

Isabel made a serious expression like she wasn't quite sure what to make of Macy's suggestion.

"It'll be fun," Macy said. "Lane and Zoe have a new puppy."

"Do you want Aunt Macy to babysit me?" Isabel asked, looking at me.

I usually did my best to be pretty honest with Isabel, so I tried to put this in a way she could understand and respect.

"Well, peanut, you know that I kinda like Mr. Drake, right?"

"Uh-huh," she said.

"For a boyfriend, right?" I asked, just making sure we were on the same page.

She tried, but she was unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face as she nodded.

"Well, to see if I like him and he likes me, we need to spend a little time together."

"Awe you having a date?" Isabel asked.

"A date," Macy agreed.

"Don't tell her that… I wouldn't call it a… actually, he didn't even ask me to come alone. I think we should—"

"I think Isabel will have fun at S&S," Macy said. "There's a chance she'll meet a new puppy, but even if not, she likes to play with all the art supplies. She can start buttering Lane up for when she turns eighteen and wants to move in there and be an artist."

Isabel giggled at the thought of buttering somebody up and disappeared into the bedroom.

Macy looked at me.

"She'll be fine, coming with me," I said. "I don't even know if Drake expects me to come alone."

"He probably doesn't expect it, but I'm sure he wants it," Macy whispered.

My stomach did a complete flip at the sound of her words, maybe a double flip. I had a clear vision of me walking into Drake's studio, and walking straight into his arms. I ached for him. My body missed his physical presence. Maybe he would have some music playing and we would dance. Maybe I wouldn't even tell him Isabel wasn't coming with me and would just wait to see his reaction when I showed up alone.

***

I talked to Drake two times after Macy volunteered to babysit, and neither time did I tell him that I was going to the studio alone. He never asked, and I didn't mention it, but I knew he assumed Isabel would be with me. I wondered what he would think when I showed up without her.

Isabel continued feeling better and better, and by the time Saturday rolled around it was like she had never been sick. I dropped her off at S&S after we ate lunch. The artist collective and gallery were on the first two floors, but the owner and manager of the place had apartments on the top floor. The manager's name was Lane, and he and his wife, Zoe, had recently gone to Texas on vacation and brought home a beautiful bulldog puppy. Isabel was in heaven playing with the adorable dog and his chew toy.

Macy took me to the second floor right before I left so I could add a few accessories to my look. I had left the house wearing jeans and a loose fitting solid colored shirt, and Macy borrowed a few necklaces from friends. She also pinned up my hair, and made me put on some lipstick.

Zoe and her dog, along with a couple of other girls, were at the front desk when I walked out, and they all whistled for me. My sister encouraged them, but their approval felt good nonetheless. Isabel loved seeing me get attention, and she took her eyes off the puppy to giggle and clap as I bowed for my audience.

I thanked Macy for watching Isabel and said goodbye to everyone before jumping in a cab headed to Drake's. I glanced at my phone right before I pulled up and smiled when I realized I was right on time. I was supposed to meet him at the studio at 2, and the clock read 1:56.

I had never been so nervous in my life. I entered the building and took the elevator up to his studio, but everything felt surreal and like it was happening in slow motion.

Chapter 16

Just as I had imagined, there was music playing when I opened the door of Drake's studio and stepped inside. My timing was perfect, too, because a new song had just come on. My parents were fans of the oldies, and I knew the song by heart. It was a Dusty Springfield number called Son of a Preacher Man. My parents had it on vinyl. I loved the song, and could clearly picture the album cover as the familiar cords played.

I grinned as I walked into his studio. There were fewer lights on than there had been last time, but I knew Drake was there because of the lights that were coming from his office. Just then, Drake yelled from that direction.

"Are you here?" he asked.

"Yes!" I yelled back, cupping my hand around my mouth to make my voice carry.

"Come on in, I'll be right there."

I continued to meander through the beautiful, sprawling studio space. Drake was in his office, which was way on the other side of the room. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from moving to the music. The song had an easy rhythm that had always put me in good spirits. I smiled. I loved knowing all the lyrics to a song, and I whispered along with her as she sang.

"…Then he looked into my eyes,

Lord knows to my surprise…"

The song was playing loudly, and I felt so pumped by hearing such a familiar one in the first place, that I switched over to full volume and sang along.

"…The only one who could ever reach me,

Was the son of a preacher man.

The only boy who could ever teach me,

Was the son of a preacher man.

Yes he was, he was, ooh, yes he was."

I was absentmindedly waiting for Drake in the studio as I sang along, and I trailed off when I glanced in the direction of his office to see that he was standing there. I started to sing the part about, "Being good isn't always easy…" but I only got about three words into it before I cut off abruptly, smiling at him as he stood there. His expression was completely unreadable, which surprised me because I had kind of been anticipating a smile.

I broadened my smile and waved at him, and he waved back at me with an almost imperceptible grin. I stepped closer to him with a curious expression.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey."

"You okay?" I asked.

We were only a few feet away from each other by this point. The music was definitely a predominant feature in our soundscape, but we were close enough now that we didn't have to yell over it.

"I'm just kind of annoyed right now."

I made a regretful expression. "You mean about Isabel? I'm sorry. Part of me knew you would want to see her, but then I thought—"

"It's not about Isabel," he said. He looked around as if searching for her. "Is she not here?"

I shook my head. "She's with my sister."

He stared at me. "That's not why I'm annoyed."

"Why are you annoyed?" I asked with a tiny smile.

"Because my dad is in construction."

I gave him a perplexed expression and he gestured by pointing upward to the speakers. I realized what the lyrics were saying. I'd been singing that the only one who could ever reach me or teach me was the son of a preacher man. I felt a great feeling of joy bubbling up in my chest that this would annoy him, and I smiled because of it.

"I was just singing along with her," I said. "I'm not really into dating preachers' sons or anything."

He made a noise in his chest like he thought what I was saying was interesting, and he stepped closer to me, looking me over. His eyes roamed over my hair then my face and down to the necklaces Macy and her friends have given me. He inspected me all the way to my toes and then back up to my face again, all while not saying a word. I was shaking under his scrutiny and I put my hands into my pockets just so it wouldn't be so obvious.

"Who are you into dating?" he said, standing right in front of me and putting his hands in his pockets to match me.

We were only a few feet apart, and I felt breathless and anxious and wanted to fall into his arms. He was even more of a presence than I remembered, and it was all I could do to maintain a regular breathing pattern as I stood there and stared at him. The preacher man song finished, and another familiar song came on. It was Slip Away by Clarence Carter, which was another record my dad used to listen to.

"Mix tape?" I asked.

"Spotify playlist," he said. He reached down to his pocket and pushed a button through his jeans, which resulted in the volume of the whole system turning down. We could still clearly hear the music in the background, but it wasn't quite so loud.

I smiled at him. "I love this one, too," I said.

"How do you know all these songs?"

"My parents," I said.

"They love oldies. They even go to car shows and stuff."

"I remember you saying your dad had an old Mustang."

I nodded, and we just stood there in quiet contemplation. We stared at each other for so long while the song played that I honestly didn't know whose turn it was to speak. I cleared my throat.

"My sister told me you were at Amy Ambrose's house," I said. "How'd that go?" I didn't want to be awkward with it, but also wanted him to know I knew the truth. I figured it was best to just go ahead and get it out there since it was something that had been on my mind.

Drake gave me a little amused grin and reached out to pinch at the front of my shirt with his knuckles. "Do you feel weird that I didn't mention who my client was?" he asked.

"Not really." I shrugged shyly, and his smiled broadened.

"I wanted to mention it, and then I forgot, and then when I wanted to mention it again, it felt like… I don't know, maybe a little like showing off." He made a facial expression that was somewhat self-deprecating. "I want to impress you so much that I can't help but feel awkward when I try to tell you something I'm proud of. So I just didn't say it."

"You want to impress me?" I asked.

He gave me an easy grin. "Yes."

"You already do."

"I took pictures of Amy and Connor, and their new baby," he said. "His name is Leo. They have a little white dog named CoCo as well. Pretty family. Nice property. I got some good pictures. I was there with Natalie, a stylist friend of mine, who did all the styling for the shoot. She helped Amy with their home, too. Natalie and I stayed at their place—they had plenty of room, and seemed not to mind the company. Her parents were there, too. I think Amy's used to having a lot of people around."

"You and Natalie both stayed there?" I asked.

"Yes."

I regarded him with a serious expression, and he grinned at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You."

"What about me?"

"You're jealous, and it's really cute."

"No, I'm not," I said. "I'm just taking it all in. Listening to what you're saying."

"I'm saying they were all very nice people. I had fun, and we got some good pictures. She used the egg your sister painted. I’m not sure if she'll pick any of those for the magazine, because she mentioned making the egg ones exclusive for her birth announcement. I told Macy that Amy used it and liked it, but that I didn't know anything for sure." He shifted in his stance, tilting his head at me. "How about you? How was Connecticut?"

I smiled and took a cautious step closer to him. "It was good," I said. "I'm really glad I went. I told you Isabel was super sick, and there were honestly moments when I was completely miserable, but looking back, it was really good. Some of it was super hard, but it was an experience that'll ultimately help me. I think it was Isabel being sick that carried me through that whole encounter with J.R., which then led to the revelation about fear. It was kind of a culmination of several things."

"Did you say you had an encounter with J.R.?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't. I guess I just didn't want you to feel weird about it. He drove up to my parents' house to try to talk to me while we were there, and I was in no mood to be messed with. Normally, I try to avoid conflict, but I was a force to be reckoned with when I talked to him that day. I gave him my mean face and let him know I was seriously not messing around. I think he was scared, no kidding."

"Let me see that face," Drake said.

I shook my head, smiling. "I can't make it at you, it wouldn't work right. I have to really be mad."

"Were your parents there?"

I nodded. "My mom was standing right around the corner, listening to everything we said. My dad was right there, too."

"What about Isabel?"

"She didn't really have any idea. She had been sick the night before. I was exhausted, too. That's what gave me the strength to tell him off like I did. I should've done that along time ago."

"Here's to exhausted rants," he said.

"Here's to Amy Ambrose and her family appreciating your talent and treating you well."

"Here's to Isabel getting her cast off."

"Here's to Isabel…"

I was seriously about to say, here's to Isabel not being here," in a breathless, please kiss me sort of way. I couldn't, however, bring myself to say that phrase, so I cut it off at here's to Isabel…

"Here's to Aunt Macy babysitting." Drake said.

I gave him a smile. "I'm glad you're back," I said.

"I am too. Your prints came in yesterday if you want to look at them. I was just taking them out of the box."

"I'd love to," I said. "Do you like them?"

He grinned and shook his head slowly at me. "You're my favorite thing I've ever taken pictures of," he said. He grabbed my chin, and gently tilted it to the side, studying me with an intense expression. "Yep, my favorite," he said. "I think it's the cheekbones."

My heart was already about to pound out of my chest, but now Drake Salinger was standing there, holding my chin and saying sweet words to me. He sighed and let his hand fall.

"I know we had a few conversations about that guy at your work and everything that's been going on with you and him."

My heart dropped at the sound of his words. I hadn't expected him to bring up this subject, and it made me feel sick to my stomach.

"I feel settled with that," I said. "I'm not going to have to see him again. I already talked to someone above him." I was so nervous that I was breathless.

"That's not what I'm getting at," Drake said. He stared at me. It was dimly lit in his studio, and his eyes were as black as midnight.

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

"That guy was out of line," he said. "He should never have done what he did."

"But what?" I asked, knowing his tone was leading to that.

"But, I feel like I'm no better than him. I look at you, and I want you. I want to hold onto you—to kiss you. I want that. And now Isabel's not here, and I'm just… I'm just standing here, trying to be a gentleman."

My heart was pounding so profusely that I was convinced that if I glanced down, I could see my chest jittering up and down. I was antsy, anxious, and breathless, and I wanted to throw myself into Drake's arms.

"There's a difference between welcome affection and unwelcome affection," I said. My voice was a little shaky, but I didn't care.

"What's the difference?" he asked.

"His affection was unwelcome," I said.

"And mine is…"

"Welcome," I said.

The corners of his mouth turned upward in a slow grin. "So, are you saying I don't have to feel bad about wanting to kiss you?" he asked.

I shook my head almost imperceptibly. "I really do hope you would never feel bad about that."

"Really, well, I'm glad I asked, then."

"Why? Because you want to do it?"

He smiled, and took a small step closer to me. "Yes. I do."

There were still a couple of feet of space between us, but he was close enough now that I could appreciate the clean, masculine smell of his cologne. He was big and broad chested—the personification of a man. I felt protected and comfortable just being in his presence.

"I guess you do, too, since you left Isabel with Macy," he said.

"I do what?" I asked.

"You want to kiss me," he said.

I smiled and glanced away shyly, blushing at his words. "Maybe I do."

Chapter 17

"Tabitha…" Drake leaned down to whisper my name. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my ear. I wanted to cry. It was such a relief to be close to him. We hadn't touched each other since I came into the studio, but he was close enough that I could feel his warmth—his body heat.

"What?" I whispered into his ear.

"I missed you. You were the thing I was looking forward to seeing when I got home. Iz, too, but I must say, I'm glad she stayed behind on this one."

I turned to whisper back to him. "Why's that?" I asked. I let my lips get so close to his ear that they made contact.

"Because," he said, wrapping a hand around my back, and inching even closer to me, "I want to…" He trailed off, deciding that rather than finish his sentence, he'd place two lingering kisses on the side of my face—one on my cheek and one up near my temple. I missed the feeling of his lips so much I reached out and took a hold of his arm, squeezing the rigid muscles of his forearm. This caused him to kiss me again.

"You can do that in front of Isabel," I said. "I've had plenty of boyfriends, and we do way more than this in front of her…" I giggled when I saw the distaste in his expression. "I'm totally playing, I don't even bring guys around her."

"You bring me around her."

"You're the first. You snuck up on me. I didn't realize I was even doing it."

"I tricked you into it," he said, coming close it my ear again.

"I think I tricked you into it. I remember when you came into my work and told J.R. you'd like to smash things. I looked at you and thought, he's here to rescue me."

"Maybe I was."

"In some ways you already have," I said. "I feel good about trying to make a go of it in New York, and you encouraged me to do it."

"I had selfish reasons for making sure you stayed," he said.

I pulled back so I could look at him. My eyes were on the same level as his neck, and I stared at his dark facial hair that grew in patches along his jawline. "What were your selfish reasons?"

"That I like Isabel and want to be friends with her," he said.

"She likes you too. She told my parents about you," I said. "They asked me about you twice because of stuff she said. My mom was an instant fan once she saw the photos you took of us. She told me to tell you thanks about ten times. She asked me to ask you if she can print and frame one of them."

Drake tossed his chin in the direction of his office. "She might want to use one of these. They came out really nice. I had just opened them when you came in."

Drake pulled away, turning and taking me by the hand as if he was anticipating that I would walk with him to his office. I stayed stubbornly in place, and Drake turned back and focused on me with a curious and concerned expression.

I bit my lip and his worried expression morphed into a smile. "Whatcha standin' there for?" he asked, teasing me.

I shrugged shyly and smiled, glancing away before looking at him again.

"Are you trying to kiss me?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

I shrugged in such a way that meant 'yes'.

"You have to wait," he said. "Because I've got two presents in here to show you. If you want to kiss me now, you're really going want to do it after I give you these things."

"The pictures?" I asked.

"The pictures, and something else."

"What?" I asked.

Instead of an answer, he smiled and motioned for me to follow him toward his office. There was a shelf along the wall that had been specifically built for displaying prints. He had all of the photos he had sent me on display in a few different sizes and textures. He even had the photograph of me that I hadn't yet seen and a few random objects like a coin purse and a mug with our pictures on them.

As I got closer, I realized that there was a gold necklace with one of the photos of Isabel engraved on the pendant. It was beautifully made and I picked it up, staring straight at Drake.

"This is best thing ever."

He smiled. "I'm glad you like it. It's a big seller with my clients, so I thought it was a sure shot to get you one of Isabel."

"You said you only had two things for me, but this is so much." I stared at the line-up of beautiful prints and goodies. The necklace was just long enough to slip over my head, so I did so before situating the pendant on my chest. I smiled as I picked up the coin purse that featured a precious, whimsical photo of Isabel. "Isabel's gonna love this, too."

"They gave me that and the mug as promotional items when I bought the necklace," he said.

"How much do I owe you for all this?"

He squinted at me. "It's a gift," he said. "But it's not even what I was talking about when I said I had two things. The pictures and necklace count as one, and the other thing is over there."

Drake was leaning casually against his desk, and he pointed to a bookcase. I noticed that there was a square, flat package that had been wrapped in brown paper.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Something for you."

"Do you want me to go over there and open it?" I asked.

He smiled. "Unless you don't want it."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Where did you get it?"

"At an art gallery."

"When?"

"When I was out of town. I bought it from a gallery in New York. It was something I had seen before, and I called from out of town and had them send it over."

"For me?" I asked, walking toward it.

"Yes."

I glanced at him when I came to a stop in front of it, and he smiled.

"Why?"

"Open it and find out," he said.

I picked up the package and carried it to a little seating area that was near Drake's desk. He just stood there and watched me as if he was curious to see my reaction when I opened it. I carefully began ripping the brown paper, looking at him with a tentative expression. He gave me a nod to let me know I should continue.

The first thing I noticed was in an ornate frame. The image itself was only about a foot or so square, but the matting and frame made it a larger piece. I looked at it for a split second, but I quickly looked away because the beauty and thoughtfulness of it instantly brought tears to my eyes.

"Please tell me you didn’t get a wasp painting for me." I said. I shielded it by leaning it against my chest, staring at Drake with my eyes wide open in an effort to make them remain dry.

Drake grinned at my intensity. "I could tell you it's not a wasp, but I'd be lying," he said. "And, besides, you've already seen it, so you'd catch me in my lie."

"So, it is a wasp painting?"

He nodded.

"Where in the world did you get it?" I asked before I was even able to look at it again.

"I saw it at S&S about a month ago. I called them after you told me the wasp story. They had sold it already, but Lane helped me track it down, and I bought it off of the owner. It was Lane's wife who painted it. I didn't know that when I called. I just remembered seeing it, so I described it to him. There was a bee, too, but I figured you were just interested in this one."

I looked at the print. The background of the canvas was painted in browns and tans and had a texture to it that made it look like paper. I peered closer to see if there was actually paper integrated in the painting, or if she had just painted it that way. The wasp itself was done in black. It was a simple outline of a wasp that was positioned in the middle of the canvas with a circle all the way around it—almost like it had been done with a branding iron. It was compelling to look at it and not just because I had a thing for wasps but also because she had done a beautiful job on the painting. It was a gorgeous representation of the peaceful feeling I had experienced that day, and I could not stop tears from welling in my eyes. I couldn't recall a gift I had ever loved so much. I felt like God had told her to paint it for me and then He told Drake to go pick it up. It couldn't be more perfect.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I said she had a bee one as well, but the guy who bought the wasp didn't have it, and I didn't think you were—"

I shook my head. "No, my goodness. No, it's just the wasp. But even this is too much. I can't believe you tracked it down. Macy told me that girl charges a lot for her paintings, too. I can't believe you even bought this one. It's my favorite gift I've ever been given. After the necklace, of course." I touched the pendant with my daughter's image. "I can't believe how much I love both of these things. I'd usually try to talk you out of doing this much or say you shouldn't have or something, but honestly I love them both so much that I'm just gonna say 'thank you'." I stared at the painting of a wasp again. "You were so right," I added.

"About what?"

"About what I would want to do after I saw all of this stuff. I think thoughtfulness might be some secret love potion. You must have known about that."

He gave me a teasing grin. "You already wanted to kiss me before I gave you any of this."

"I know," I said. "And now you're making it worse."

"I'm not usually a real gifty type of guy, but I thought of you with both of these things, and I couldn't help myself."

"Well, I'm not usually a gifty girl, but I will gladly accept both of these things because that's how badly I want them. Oh, and I ordered the wool for your doll. I got some good stuff. I'm excited to get started on him. I don't know what it cost you to buy these, but I'm definitely not gonna charge you anything for the doll."

Drake grinned as he moved toward me in a slow, measured stride that had me feeling like I needed to squirm. He stopped when he came to my chair, and then he leaned over me, bracing his weight with his hand on the back of my chair. "I don't guess we really need to keep track, do we?"

"Of what?"

"Of owing each other anything."

I leaned my head against the back of the chair, looking straight up at him. His face was only a few inches from mine and I desperately wished he would just lean in and kiss me. I struggled to steady my breathing.

"No," I said. "I don't see any point in keeping track."

"Me neither," he said, staring down at me.

"Are you gonna do it?" I asked.

He regarded me innocently. "Do what?"

I stared directly at his mouth, which made him smile. "Are you?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because you want me to so bad."

I widened my eyes. "That should make you want to do it," I said.

"Yeah, but if I wait a little bit, you'll want me to even more."

"I can't possibly want it more." I whispered. "I hit maximum capacity a long time ago. I'm maxed out."

This statement made Drake smile and give me a long blink where he kept his eyes closed for a few seconds. He breathed a sigh as if praying for restraint. I wanted to spring out of my chair and kiss him so badly that I held onto the seat cushion just to make sure I didn't do it by compulsion.

"You're still not," I said impatiently.

"Nope."

I sighed. "Fine. Good, because I don't want you to," I said, trying for some reverse psychology.

He stood up, taking his hand off of the back of my chair, and stretching as he straightened up. He crossed to the windows, looking out at the city as if considering something.

"I didn't mean it," I said, standing up with my painting in hand. I set it on his desk so that I could go over to the window and stand beside him. He moved to stand directly behind me, and I leaned into him and turned my face to the side so that I could rest my cheek gently on the spot where his chest met his neck.

"I know you didn't mean it," he said. "You want me to kiss you as much as I want to do it."

"Then why aren't you?"

"Because."

"When are you?"

"Soon."

"Today?"

"Yes."

"How about right now?" I asked. "At least right here." I shifted to the side and pointed at my cheek. Drake leaned down and placed his lips on the top of my cheek. His mouth was slightly open, and I felt the warmth of it on my cheek. My heart literally felt warm. I wanted him to stay like that forever. I let out a whimper when he broke contact, and he smiled.

"Let's go," he said, pulling me toward the door.

Chapter 18

I spent the next four hours alone with Drake. We went to a botanical garden and sat on a bench near a pond with lilies for over half of that time. He brought me there, and I brought him to a hidden hat store where we tried on what must have been a hundred hats.

Drake bought two for his studio, top hat and a dark brown fedora with a wonderfully gaudy lavender feather. The top hat was my favorite on him, and the fedora was his favorite on me. It was vintage and beautiful, and Drake said he wanted to buy it for me, but when I refused he said he was just going to purchase it for his studio. I agreed, but I knew he just wanted me to have it. I wore it out of the store because it matched my outfit perfectly and the clerk assumed I would.

Drake and I went for a walk in the park when we left the hat store. It was a beautiful summer day, and we had an hour or so to spare before I needed to get back home to Isabel. Drake had intentionally left his camera behind, but one time during our walk he got a couple of feet in front of me and turned around walking backwards while motioning for me to stop. I came to a halt in the middle of the path and smiled at him. He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head a little and saying how mad he was at himself for not bringing his good camera. He said he just couldn't bear to see this scene pass him by without documenting it somehow, so he used his phone instead. He apologized for making me stop in the middle of the path, but he said he was compelled to go ahead and take my picture since the lighting was perfect. He told me exactly what to do and what expression to make, and within a few minutes, we were done.

I had been in touch with Macy and told her that I would be home by 6 with dinner in hand. She said she had dinner plans with Ethan, but that 6 was still a good time for her.

I still had on the hat when got back to the apartment. Drake and I had an eventful afternoon followed by picking up dinner, and before I knew it, we were about to walk into my apartment.

We came to a stop just before we walked in, and rather then open the door, I looked at Drake with a sorrowful expression. "We forgot my painting," I whispered. "My painting and all the prints are still at your studio. And we never…" I hesitated, staring at him just the right way so he would know I was talking about a kiss. "All that time, and you never… we never."

Drake was holding a brown paper bag that was overstuffed with Mexican food, and he smiled at me from behind it. "We never what?"

"We left my painting," I said. "And you never gave me that other thing you promised. And now we're going to go in there, and Isabel is going to be in there, and it's going to be too late."

He gave me an amused grin. "I'm betting between the both of us, with all our life experience, we could outwit a four-year-old. I bet I can find a way to kiss you, and she'll never even know."

"You're going to have to," I said, staring at the doorknob, which was currently turning back and forth sporadically in typical Isabel fashion. I knew she was figuring it out, and it would soon pop open, and, yep, there it was.

"You're getting kissed tonight," Drake whispered under his breath just as the door opened.

We instantly turned to stare at Isabel who had opened the door and was looking up at us.

"Heyyyyy!" she said, mostly to Drake as she opened the door, but then she stared at me, straight at my head. "I love youw hat," she said. "Whewe did you get this hat?"

"It's Drake's," I said, coming into the apartment. I had been holding my purse and the bag with the other hat, and I set them both down next to the door. Drake was still holding the bag containing dinner, but he paused with me by the door to kick off his shoes before heading to the kitchen.

"Hey," Macy said, coming out of her room with her hair pulled back in a headband. She was holding a makeup compact in one hand and the little spongy applicator in the other. "Iz was out here playing while I got dressed."

I passed Macy on my way to the kitchen with Drake, and I kissed her cheek, thanking her again for keeping Isabel. "We brought Mexican," I said. "I think there's a lot if you want some."

"Thank you, but we're going out for Mexican, actually," she said. She gave Drake a sideways hug as he followed me past her to the kitchen.

"I got my cast off, see?" Isabel asked, trailing behind us as we came in.

"Where'd you get this hat?" Macy asked at the same time.

Drake set down the Mexican food and knelt down to have a conversation with Isabel about her cast while I turned to answer Macy's question.

"It's Drake's," I said to my sister. I took it off and handed it to her, bending over to shake out my hair before running a hand through it. Macy looked it over. "That's pretty awesome. It looks amazing on you."

"It's hers," Drake said, stopping his conversation with Isabel so that he could chime in. I looked down to find that Isabel's hands were in Drake's, and my heart felt like it got tugged in that direction. "She wouldn't let me buy it for her, so I had to lie and tell her I was getting it for myself."

"You said you were getting it for your studio," I said.

"Yeah, but it was really for you, obviously. I mean, it clearly looks better on you than it would on anyone else." He looked at Isabel for reinforcement, and she nodded in agreement. Macy was standing next to me, and she had been secretly pinching the back of my arm while Drake was speaking.

"I'm gonna make plates," I said since I was too nervous to comment about the hat.

Drake sat down on the kitchen floor with a huff as if he was super exhausted, and Isabel came to sit right next to him.

"I got to babysit a baby bulldog today named Dawlene, and she tee-teed on the wug and got in twouble. Then I took hew on a walk with Zoe, and we let hew meet anothew dog. And we went to Nana and PopPop's, and I had a tummy bug."

"I'm gonna finish getting dressed," Macy interjected, since she wasn't sure when Isabel would stop. "Ethan should be here in a few minutes."

Drake and Isabel sat on the kitchen floor together and talked about bulldogs, and tummy bugs, and the joys of a castfree arm while I portioned out our Mexican food. I asked Drake what he wanted and how he wanted it, but he assured me that he wasn't a picky eater and I could just make his plate however I wanted.

Ethan came over, and we talked to him for a little while before he and Macy left for the evening. It was still surreal at times having a famous actor for a soon to be brother-in-law. He stole some chips from Isabel's plate, and I got the oddest sensation at the sight of Dr. Morgan Craig eating my daughter's food. I saw Ethan and Drake standing next to each other, having a conversation, and I realized that I was equally starstruck by both of them, and that I was completely in love with one.

Ethan and Macy didn't hang out long, but Drake stuck around after they left. We put together a puzzle with Isabel and watched a little television, and the next thing I knew, it was 9pm. I had always tried to keep Isabel on a strict routine, so she knew 9 o'clock was bath time, and she reminded me of it before I even said anything.

I was kind of sad when she brought it up because I thought that maybe my time with Drake would be over—like bath time would somehow mark the end of our evening. Drake was sitting on my couch, and I had been sitting on the floor but had inched conveniently close enough to him that my back was touching his legs. It was during this wonderful, magical time that I did not want to end that Isabel reminded me of bath time.

"It's bath time," I said, turning to stare at Drake from over my shoulder.

"Does that pertain to me?" he asked with a serious expression.

His question made me smile. "I don't guess it does. I just assumed you would… I don't know what I assumed."

"Are there no post-bath visitors?" he asked.

"What's post-bath?" Isabel asked.

"Post means after," I said. "And, yeah, you're welcome to stay around, I just didn't want you to get bored sitting out here. I usually read to her a little bit after bath, and then she goes to sleep."

Drake stood up, rubbing my back in the process. He offered me a hand, and I let him help me to my feet. I nervously dusted off my bottom even though there was nothing on it.

"I've been with your mama all day, so I'm going to let you ladies go on with the rest of your evening."

My heart sank. I didn't want him to go. I knew he was serious about leaving and that he was doing the right thing, but I hated the thought of him saying goodbye.

"I have to work until about 5 o'clock tomorrow, but I think you should come to my apartment after that," he said, looking at me. "Your painting and prints are at the studio, but I'll take them home with me, and you can come by and pick them up."

"Both of us?" I asked, whispering so that Isabel couldn’t hear.

He nodded and held open his hands, and gesturing with his fingers for Isabel to come give him a hug. "I'm glad you got your cast off," he said. "I'm gonna take you to the gym with me—get you some time on the rock wall." He flexed his own forearm, and Isabel giggled and reached out to squeeze it. "I gotta go," he said. "And you need to take your bath. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Won't I?" He looked at me, and I nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated. "I'm gonna tell your mama goodbye. You run ahead of her, and she'll follow in a second, okay?"

Isabel nodded and hugged Drake. "Bye, love you, hope you have fun," she said.

"Bye, love you, hope you have fun," Drake said without skipping a beat.

They squeezed each other before Isabel took off. "See you tomowwow," she called as she disappeared into my bedroom.

Drake looked at me like he was about to do something. I desperately wanted it to happen, but I knew Isabel was keeping a sharp eye on us.

"Can she see us?" he asked.

"Probably."

"Do you not want her to see me kiss you?"

"I don't know. I want you to, but it's kind of weird with her right in there. I'm sure she's looking."

"Why don't you go get her bath started," he said. "Then you can sneak back out here for a minute and tell me goodbye. I'll stay here till you get her in the bathtub. You better go. She's waiting on you."

He nudged his chin in the direction of my bedroom and I could see that Isabel was now waiting in the doorway for me.

"Just give me two minutes," I said.

Chapter 19

"Did Dwake have to go?" Isabel asked before I even got the bathroom door closed.

"Yeah, but we'll see him tomorrow."

"Why awe you smiling so much?"

"Shhhhh," I said, still grinning.

She looked at me with a slightly curious expression as if she wondered why I would shush her, but she didn't ask.

I started running her bathwater and switched on a little radio that we had hanging on the wall near the sink.

"Why awe you having music going?" she asked.

"Because I like it," I said.

I was already feeling breathless with anticipation. How in the world could I go out there and face him without hyperventilating?

"I was in the mood for music," I said, testing my voice.

"You wewe?"

"Yep."

"Awe you happy because Dwake's ovew hewe?"

"Yep. I'm happy."

She was ready to hop in the bath, so I tied up her hair and made way for her to step around me. "I'm gonna fill up the tub for another minute, and then I'll turn it off and let you play and get washed up while I go check on the dishes."

"Why awe you bwushing youw teeth?" she asked.

I put my finger to my mouth, telling her to be quiet, and again she looked at me like she wasn't quite sure why I was doing that. I finished a quick brush and rinse. "I’m just brushing them for a second," I said quietly to her. I wiped my mouth with a towel as I sat on the closed toilet. I reached out and turned off the bath water, but music was still playing in the background. It was on a pop radio station, and leaned over and turned it down a little since it seemed loud now that the water was off.

"I'm gonna be back in just a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be able to hear you, so yell if you need me."

"Okay," she said.

She had bathtub toys, and it wasn't uncommon for me to leave her in there for a few minutes. She knew how to swim, and I always kept an ear out for her. I felt like I was sneaking out of my parents' house. I was nervous and giddy, and it took all of my strength not to wear a face-cracking smile as I left the bathroom.

"I'll be right back," I said. I walked out, leaving the door cracked. It was fairly dark in the bedroom. There was a lamp on near my bed, but it didn't create a whole lot of light in the room, which was why I walked right past Drake without even noticing he was there.

He reached out and grabbed my arm. I was taken by surprise and therefore I toppled, forcing him to catch me. I let out a little gasp, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. I had been so surprised by the whole maneuver that my arms were still awkwardly blocking our chests from touching. I craned my neck and could see through the crack in the door that Isabel was sitting up and completely preoccupied by her toys. I was so nervous that I took short shallow breaths. It was a bit as though I'd been running and was now captured. I readjusted so that my arms weren't folded between us, but I stayed close to him. I was so relieved to be in his embrace that I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I'm nervous," I whispered. "It feels like we're under the bleachers."

"You better not know what it's like to go under the bleachers," he said.

"I don't. But I imagine it would be scary like this."

He stared at me with a grin that was almost predatory. "Are you scared?" he asked.

"No, but I'm nervous. Not just about getting caught, either. It's nice that I get to blame it on Isabel being right there, but the truth is, I'm just nervous."

He grinned. "Why are you nervous?" he asked, pulling me closer.

"Because. I just feel really nervous. I feel like I'm about to step on stage and give a recital."

"We don't have to do it," he said, slowly. He said the words, but they kind of lost their meaning sense he stared at my mouth the whole time.

"Drake," I said, staring straight at his mouth. It was perfectly shaped with a natural little smirk just in the way his mouth rested. I ached for him. My jaw ached to draw closer to him.

"Tabitha," he said.

I turned to the side and put my ear right in front of his face like I wanted him to speak into my ear.

"Tabitha."

My hair was pulled up, and he said the word right into my ear, which caused me to smile.

"Tabitha, I gotta go."

I loved the feel of his breath on my ear, but I felt sad at his words. My eyes were closed as I stuck my lip out in protest while nodding to let him know I knew he had to leave.

"Hey," he said.

I opened my eyes and looked directly at him, and in the same instant that I turned, he leaned in and kissed me. He kissed me twice—tender kisses right on the lips.

"I had fun today," I whispered. I put my hands on the sides of his face, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs. I stared directly into his gorgeous, bottomless eyes.

"I did too," he said.

He leaned in to kiss me again, and this time I wrapped my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, and drew him toward me. That was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed me the way I so desperately wanted to be kissed. I surrendered to his embrace, and he held me tightly as we gave in to all the sensations that come along with sharing a kiss so deep.

I let out a reluctant whimper when he finally broke the kiss.

"I know," he said, sympathizing with me.

"We have to," I said.

"Yep. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay." I kissed him again, and it made my stomach flip to do it, so I did it yet again. He smiled, and I did it a third and final tummy-tickling time. "I'll see you tomorrow," I said.

"Okay."

He gave my hand a squeeze on his way out, and the next thing I knew, I was heading back into the bathroom to meet Isabel. I was dazed from my encounter with Drake.

"Hey, Mom," Isabel said.

"Hey."

"Awe you happy?" she asked.

I came to sit on the side of the tub, wearing a curious smile. "Yes, I am, are you?"

"I'm weally happy," she said.

"Good," I said. "I'm happy, too."

"Do you wove Dwake?" Isabel mostly knew how to say her L's but sometimes when she was feeling vulnerable, she slipped into mispronouncing them.

"I don't know if I love him," I said. "I think I do, kind of, which is really weird."

"I don't think it's weiwd," she said. "I wove him."

"You do?"

"Uh-huh. And he woves me, cause I asked him."

"You did?"

"Uh-huh."

"When?"

"Tonight when he was at my house when you was in the kitchen."

"He said he woves me and you," she said.

"He did not," I said.

"Yes he did!" she said, giggling.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did!" she said, still giggling.

I stared absentmindedly at the bubbles on the surface of the water, feeling happy right down to my toes.

***

It was roughly two weeks later when I got an unexpected call from J.R. I was in the application process for a job with Urban Outfitters, and he had received an email from the woman who was looking into hiring me. He called me on the phone and told me that if I would meet him one time he would give me a glowing review like Michael said. I asked what would happen if I didn't meet him, and he said he might not be quite so enthusiastic with his recommendation. He was vague enough with his wording that it almost didn't even really seem like a threat.

Maybe it was the wasp mentality, but I wasn't scared of J.R. or what he could do to me. I told him right there on the phone that he was crazy if he thought calling me up and proposing that kind of thing would actually work. I had just finished my two remaining weeks at Patterson when it happened, and I was so relieved not to have to go to that place again after he called and said such a thing.

I told Drake about J.R.'s ridiculous phone call, and the next afternoon, I got a message from my friend, Nikki, who had worked with me. She sent me a text, saying that a guy who looked like Drake came up to the store and gave J.R. a black eye. I called her so she could tell me what happened, but she didn't know much. She said she saw the guy come in. He asked one of the other employees where he could find J.R.—said he was a friend of his. Then he left 15 minutes later, and when J.R. came out of the office, he was wearing sunglasses and had a black eye.

Drake had been working since I heard from Nikki, so I hadn't talked to him about it yet. To be honest, I didn't even have enough of the story to be certain it had truly happened. Nikki wasn't even a hundred percent positive that it was Drake she had seen. I figured I would have the opportunity to ask him about it once I saw him.

I smiled, knowing that would be any second.

I knocked on the door of his apartment, and he yelled for us to come in.

"Go ahead," I said, holding the door for Isabel.

She ran in and went directly to Drake who scooped her into his arms. They hugged and kissed and said some things to each other that I couldn’t hear, and then he set her down.

"Dwake said I can let Mack out of his kennel," she said.

I nodded and let her zoom past me, toward the other side of the living room where Drake kept the kennel for his new puppy.

Zoe had gotten news from a friend who was a dog breeder in Texas that there was a prestigious bulldog for sale in Washington D.C. She had gotten word of it through some kind of mutual breeders association, and she called Zoe, asking how far D.C. was from her place in New York. The lady asked Zoe if she wanted another dog as a companion for Darlene because if not, she was thinking about having this male shipped to Texas.

Drake happened to be meeting with Lane about taking some photos for the S&S website when Zoe got that call, and (on impulse) he told Zoe he wanted the dog. It was mostly for Isabel, obviously, but he had always wanted a bulldog, and it made it even better that this one was so coveted.

Mack was the perfect name for this dog. Drake had only had him for about a week, but he had already taken to calling him Mack Daddy, so that's what Isabel called him, too. She danced toward the kennel, singing a tune about how she loved a doggy named Mack Daddy.

Drake stood in the kitchen, watching her sing and smiling at both of us. I walked right up to him, and he opened his arms, inviting me in.

"It smells good in here," I said.

"It better. I had to get twenty ingredients to make those things."

"Twenty ingredients!" I said. "This is gonna be gourmet."

I opened the oven and took in the lovely sight of whatever pasta dish was baking. There was cheese on top, but upon closer inspection, I could tell it was a dish made with those huge pasta shells.

"Are they stuffed?" I asked.

"Yes. Hence all the ingredients."

I closed the oven door and turned around, realizing he was standing right behind me. "This is so gourmet," I said. "I can't wait to eat it."

"Thank you," he said.

"Thank you."

He nudged his chin at me and I stretched up to kiss him.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi."

"Did you give my boss a black eye today?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "He's not your boss, and I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"So, you know nothing about a guy with roughly your description going into the office at Patterson & Ray and giving J.R. a big black eye today?"

Drake shrugged. "I don't know, but if it happened, I'm sure he deserved it."

"Yep, I'm sure he did," I said. "I just hope whoever did doesn't get in trouble."

"He won't," Drake said.

"And I hope I never have to see that guy again."

"You won't," he promised.

Chapter 20

Six months later

Macy had this group of friends that she went to college with. They were all artists, and some of them went on to live and work at Shower & Shelter Artist Collective. They were good people, but seeing as how I had just moved to New York, and I only knew them through Macy, I hadn't really established relationships with any of them. Also, I stayed busy with work and Isabel. It's not that they made me feel like I was an outsider; it's just that they were a group of friends, and I was Macy's sister who had just moved to town.

It wasn't that way anymore, though. Through Drake, I had become one of the group. I wasn't just Macy's sister, now. I was Drake's girlfriend. It had been six months since I started seeing Drake, and we both spent a lot of time at each other's apartments. He helped me with Isabel, and I helped him with Mack. We had fallen into a bit of a routine—one in which we spent a lot of time together.

After that whole thing went down with J.R. and my pending application with Urban Outfitters, Drake helped me get a job with his friend Natalie who was so in demand as a stylist that she now needed an assistant. I had never considered styling on that level, but I liked fashion, so I took to it naturally. I liked Natalie a lot, and was truly enjoying the work. It wasn't quite as steady as a retail job, but it was fun, and sometimes, I'd get to work a photo shoot at Drake's studio, and my personal life would get to collide with my work. It had happened three times since I took the job with Natalie, and each time, Drake and I snuck in a little PDA in ways that left me breathless.

He was in the middle of leaving me breathless at that very moment. We weren't working, though. We were at a Christmas party given by Saul and Rhonda Spicer, and there were so many people that they held it in a ballroom.

Saul was the director of a famous television drama, so many of the actors from his show where there. Two of Saul's children were tied into S&S, which meant there were also quite a few artists present at the party. Drake was asked to take some pictures, but even if he had declined, he would have still been invited to the party just from his association with Sarah and Lu. He agreed to the photos, though, and had taken some earlier in the evening, but he had already put his camera down and now had the rest of the evening off.

The ballroom that Saul and Rhonda had rented for the evening was beautifully decorated with couches and seating areas all along the walls. Drake had been talking to some of his friends when I left for the ladies room, and he was standing in the same vicinity when I returned. We met eyes as I approached, and he smiled and gestured with the flick of his head for me to look at the couch.

Lu was sitting there with her new baby on her lap, and next to her was my daughter who had a baby on her lap as well.

"I'm holding baby Hawpew!" Isabel announced proudly when I walked up.

Sarah and Collin's little girl was named Harper, and I smiled at the sight of Isabel holding her. Isabel was five now, but she was so petite that the four-month-old, chubby baby seemed as big as her. Sarah sat close by, making sure Harper stayed balanced on Isabel's lap.

"Yes you awe!" Isabel said, in a cooing baby tone, smiling at the baby. "She's smiling! Yes, you awe!" Isabel looked at the baby in Lu's lap. "Is baby Jude smiling, too?"

"I think baby Jude's sleepy," Lu said.

She adjusted Jude so that he was resting on her shoulder, and Isabel looked at him before signaling to the rest of us with a finger over her mouth for us to be quiet.

"It's okay," Lu said. "He's used to the noise." She stood up and began walking around with him, which made him instantly fall fast asleep.

"Hawpew isn't tiwed. Awe you, wittle giwl?" Isabel asked with an over exaggerated smile.

That smile must have made Harper smile because Sarah and Isabel both cracked up at whatever they saw.

Drake pulled me into his arms. There was a jazz band playing live music, and he and I knew Isabel was in good hands, so we let ourselves get distracted for a minute. There were a lot of people in the room. There was dancing and singing and talking all around us, so I was just able to collapse into his arms right there in public, and no one even cared.

"Guess what?" he asked.

"Chicken butt," I said, since that was literally what I said every time someone asked me that question.

Drake had come to expect it by now, but it still made him smile when I said it this time. He pulled me closer, and I smiled as I got close enough to smell his neck.

"No," he said. "Not chicken butt."

"What, then?"

"I was gonna propose to you at this party."

He said it so casually that I started to laugh it off, but then I realized I didn't want to laugh it off, so I kind of choked and had to clear my throat. "What?" I asked. I swallowed hard. "What did you just say?"

"I was, I am, I still will. I have the ring in my pocket. I was planning to get everyone's attention in a minute to make an announcement, but part of me just wants to ask you right here in your ear and have you tell me 'yes'."

"Yes," I said. I didn't mean to whisper the word so quickly, but there was nothing I could do to contain it.

He held me there, barely swaying to the slow rhythm of the jazz.

"Do you want me to get everyone's attention and make an announcement?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Is it gonna feel official enough to you?"

I pulled back so that I could stare at his face. I smiled. "If you tell me it's official, it's official."

"Then, it's official," he said. "I've got the ring in my pocket and everything."

"You do?"

He nodded.

"Is it that one you showed me?" I asked.

He smiled. "Similar. Did that give it away?"

"I don't really care if it did or not," I said. "I just wanted you to do it, and I wanted to say 'yes'."

"That's what we just did," he said.

"All that while we're standing right here?" I said.

I glanced around at all the chaos that was going on at the party, taking in the moment for what it was. My daughter was having a ball on the couch with a baby, and I was with the man of my dreams who was telling me he had a ring in his pocket.

"Can I have it?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," he said.

He made no move to retrieve it out of his pocket, so I took matters into my own hands. I stood close enough to him that I could reach into his pocket without being obvious. I was looking for a ring box, so Drake had to inform me that it was just a loose ring in his pocket. I had no problem finding it after that, and I slipped it out of his pocket easily and put it on my finger. It went on fine, but I was so full of nerves and adrenaline that I probably wouldn't have noticed even if it were loose or tight. I didn't care how it fit, and I didn't care what it looked like. I only cared that it had come from Drake and now it was on my finger.

"I want to adopt her," he said.

Again, he spoke so casually that the tone didn't quite reflect the gravity of the words. I gave him a questioning glance and he nodded.

"Isabel Salinger, right? I think she comes with you, doesn't she?"

Sheer joy rose inside me.

I don't know if I had never been so happy in my life. My chest felt like it wanted to burst. My heart was pounding, and I didn't know how to begin putting my feelings into words. "I'm not going to really be able to talk about that stuff right now in front of all these people because it's going to make me cry, but, yes, and please, and yes to whatever you are saying."

"That I want to adopt her when we get married."

I put my hand to my chest, and my face crumpled in a vain attempt to keep tears from forming in my eyes. The word adopt in reference to my little girl, made an uncontrollable feeling of goodness well inside me. The word had a protective quality to it, and it made me happy and proud and he felt that way about her. I really didn't want to cry in front of these people, so I smiled and blinked away the tears that formed in my eyes.

"Do tears mean 'yes'?"

"Oh, my goodness, yes, Drake. She's going to be so excited, I can't even—"

A wave of emotion hit me, and I couldn't get the rest of my sentence out, so I just quit talking and turned around as if absentmindedly moving to the music. Drake went with it, letting me spin before drawing me next to him again.

"Did you even look at it yet?" he asked.

"No." I reached down and touched the ring, feeling it and trying to imagine what it looked like, but for whatever reason, not looking at it.

"Are you going to?" he asked.

"Yep."

"When?"

"I don't know. Later, I bet."

We stood there, Drake with his arms wrapped around my shoulders, lost in our own thoughts and watching everyone else have conversations.

"I'm so glad you didn't make an announcement," I said.

"I know. I kind of know that about you. That's why I just whispered it."

"I'm a whisper kind of girl."

I hadn't whispered those words because there was a lot of noise around us, but I looked up at Drake when I said it and he smiled and leaned down, giving me his ear.

"You want me to whisper something?" I asked.

He nodded, leaving his ear right in front of me. I put my mouth so close to it that it was almost touching. I hadn't thought of what to say, so I just whispered the first thing that came to my mind.

"I love you." I pulled back, and he smiled and nudged his ear closer to me. I was grinning when I put my lips right next to him again and whispered, "I love you to the moon, Drake Salinger."

Epilogue

A year later

Drake proposed to me in December, and we were married the following spring, at which time Isabel and I moved into his apartment. Isabel's dad gave us a hard time about the adoption at first, but he eventually changed his mind and signed the papers.

The adoption was final by the day we were married, so Isabel and I both got to become Salingers on the same day. I made dolls of the whole family, including Mack. I had so much fun making Mack and his leash and things like Drake's camera, that I had made a few other accessories to go with our family dolls. Drake brought the whole set, including accessories, to one of his photo shoots, and his client asked me to make a set for her family. Seeing as how this certain client was Amy Ambrose, she paid me an arm and a leg to do it.

My little doll business had taken off from there, and in the last year, I had been splitting my time between working with Natalie as a stylist and making dolls, but more and more, I was making dolls. I had a system now, which made it a much faster process than it was at first. I called my tiny little operation Happy Wasp Toys, and I used the shape of Zoe's painted wasp for my insignia. Drake had ordered me some beautiful embroidered tags with the name and logo, and I carefully hand stitched one onto the back of each doll.

I had just finished felting a baby. It was basically an oval shaped piece since it was a baby wrapped in a swaddled blanket. I sewed the final stitch on the baby's tag and turned it over, noticing at how cute and cozy it looked. I had given it chubby cheeks, and I smiled at it as I set it in the mama doll's arms.

It was just then that I heard the apartment door open. "Hello?" I called.

"Hey," Drake said.

I heard him, but I hadn't yet seen him. I had a little workshop area set up in the dining room, and I couldn't see the door from where I was standing. Drake rounded the corner wearing a smile, and I walked straight into his arms.

"How was your day?" I asked.

"Good. You?"

"Good. I got a lot done."

He leaned in and kissed my cheek, and I let out a little laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Where's Isabel?" he asked.

"Macy picked her up after school. She and Ethan wanted to take her out."

"What about Mack?" Drake asked, looking around the corner in the direction of Mack's kennel.

"They took him, too. Ethan loves him. He's trying to talk Macy into getting one."

"They can have him," Drake said.

He was just acting tough. I knew he loved Mack and was just kidding. "I'm the one who asked them to take the kids," I said.

"Oh yeah?" His eyes sparkled mischievously, and I grinned at the sight of him.

"Yep."

"I wonder why you did that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He stepped closer to me leaning down to kiss my neck. I stretched my neck to the side, allowing him full access. My breathing shallowed and my anticipation began to rise. I cleared my throat.

"I wanted to talk to you," I said.

"About what?" he asked. He kissed my neck before and after he said it, and I almost completely forgot what I was supposed to be saying to him.

"About what?" he asked again.

"Oh, I, uh, I finished a doll. I was gonna tell you about a doll I finished."

He kissed my neck again, and then my cheek. "What doll?" He glanced around my little workshop area as if searching for it. I gestured at the area where our family dolls were set up. They were on a shelf that was lower than the rest so that Isabel could get to them.

"Those are ours," he said.

"I know but—" I was about to finish my sentence, but he cut me off.

"What is that? Who is that? Who made that? What is it?" Drake stepped around me so that he could get closer to the little dolls. He reached out and picked up the little oval shaped ball of wool. It was totally obvious that it was a baby, but he still looked at me with a perplexed expression and said, "What is this?"

"It's a baby," I said.

"Who's baby is it?" he asked.

"Yours," I said.

"Mine?"

I nodded, and Drake stared down at the toy with a completely unreadable expression. He set it down carefully and then he stared directly at my stomach before looking at me. "Is there a baby in there?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Mine?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, which made us both laugh.

"Is my baby in there?" Drake asked, coming closer and closer to me. I nodded, and he carefully dropped to his knees in front of me. "Are you in there?" he whispered directly at my tummy.

"Uh-huh," I agreed in a tiny high-pitched voice since I couldn’t bear to leave Drake hanging.

Drake looked at me with a smile before picking up my shirt and placing a kiss on the bare skin of my stomach. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm about eight tests sure."

"And they all said there's a—"

I nodded, so he trailed off.

"I love you," he said. "And I love Isabel and this baby."

"Me too," I said.

***

It was two hours later when Macy and Ethan brought Isabel and Mack back to the apartment. I wanted Drake to be the first to know, so none of them knew that I was expecting.

They all came in and told us about their walk. We gave Mack some water and made fun of him for being so worn out. He fell onto the floor, lying on his side and breathing heavily. We all stood and sat around, staring at Mack and laughing.

I came to stand near Drake, and he pulled me into his arms. "Your mama made a new doll," Drake said.

"What is it?" Isabel said, instantly looking in the direction of my little makeshift workshop.

"You have to go look," I said. "It's with our family."

"I know what it is," Ethan said, without even going over there. I looked at him and his face broke into a grin. I smiled and he chuckled and shook his head at me. "I can see it from here," he said, peering at the shelf where our dolls were sitting.

It took Isabel and Macy a minute to get over there and put together what was going on. Macy figured it out before Isabel did. "Oh, my goodness, are you serious?" she asked. She reached down and picked up the little baby doll, handing it to Isabel. "You know what that is?" Macy asked.

"A baby," Isabel said.

"I think it's your baby." Macy said.

"You made this fow me?" Isabel asked, looking at me.

I nodded.

"I don't think it's just any baby doll, though," Macy said.

"No, it's not," I said.

"What is it?" Isabel asked with precious curiosity.

"I think your mom might have made it because she's gonna have a baby." Macy looked at me as if to get confirmation. "Am I right?"

I nodded.

"You awe?" Isabel asked. "Am I gonna have a baby bwothew or sistew?"

I nodded. "But we don't know which one yet."

Isabel's face crumpled pitifully as she walked toward me. She walked into my arms, latching onto my waist and holding on tightly. After a few seconds, I realized she was sobbing.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm just so ha-a-p-py," she said, gasping for air. Her precious tears made both Macy and me cry, and then we all ended up laughing because of it.

Macy and Ethan admitted that they were thinking about starting to try for a baby soon, and we talked about how cool it would be if our little ones were close in age.

Isabel luxuriated in the thought of being a babysitter for both of us. She instantly started searching on her iPad for baby clothes.

Parenting is simultaneously the scariest and most gratifying thing you can do in life. Maybe it's love in general, because they both caused me to feel terrified and elated in a continual cycle.

The thing I try to remind myself is that the scary parts aren't really so scary if you look at them just the right way. Sure, maybe there were wasps buzzing around in the world, but how many of them really ever sting you? And even if they do, it will all be okay eventually. As the saying goes:

It'll all be okay in the end.

If it's not okay, it's not the end.

In my case, everything was extremely okay, and coincidentally, it was also the end…

…at least for now.

The End

(till book 6)

(Theo's story will be the sixth and final installment in the Shower & Shelter series.)

Other titles available from Brooke St. James:

Another Shot:

A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story

When Lightning Strikes

Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)

Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)

Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)

Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)

Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)

Shot by Cupid's Arrow

Dreams of Us

Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)

Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)

California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)

Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)

It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)

Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)

Dear California (Martin Family #2)

My One Regret (Martin Family #3)

Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)

Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)

Almost Christmas

JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #1)

Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #2)

So Much for Boundaries (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #3)

Suddenly Starstruck (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #4)