Five #2
I laugh. “Maybe it was a risk, but judging by the way the fashion world responded? I’d call it genius.”
Her smile softens into something almost vulnerable. “Thanks. That means more than you know.”
She leans back against the couch, elbow propped casually. “What about you? It’s just you and your brothers, right?”
“We have a little sister. She works in our marketing and public relations office.” I look out the window and see the sunlight reflecting on the Bay.
“Yeah. Our parents died in a car accident. Dante was fifteen, my older brother Luca was thirteen. I was eleven, Ciro was nine… and Gianna was just a baby. Fourteen months old. Still toddling.”
Ellory doesn’t say anything, just watches me, steady and quiet.
“Our mom’s younger sister and her new husband picked us up from school that day and broke the news. They were newlyweds—twenty and twenty-two. That same night, they moved into our house. They never left. Became our parents in every way that mattered.”
“That’s…incredible,” she says softly.
“It wasn’t easy. Everyone was grieving, just trying to stay afloat.
But we had help. A family lawyer stepped in and worked with one of my dad’s best friends, Tom Caruso.
He stepped in and took over the holding company.
It manages most of our assets—construction, real estate.
My aunt, though? She was a force. Still is.
The moment she heard about Amelia, she was at my door in under an hour. ”
“Did you even know Amelia’s mom was pregnant?”
I shake my head. “I’ve been cavalier in my love life, but always very careful.
This was a mistake. She left a photo of herself with Amelia, and I didn’t recognize her.
We ran a paternity test and confirmed she was mine.
I’m going to have to tell Amelia the story of her conception one day. I’m not proud of that.”
“She’s only going to care about how you treat her.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say, hoping she is right.
“What happened to her mother? Is she some kind of addict? Or just didn’t want to be a mother?”
“We had a private detective find her. She went back to a small town in Wisconsin. I want to keep the door open. Amelia deserves to know her or at least have the choice.”
Ellory nods, her expression thoughtful. “That’s really admirable.”
She brushes a crumb off her lap. “What about your family business? Do you only plan on just working the mine?”
“No. Eventually, Luca will take the lead there. Right now, though, we’re all focused on the mine. Our father’s best friend has everything else handled, and we want to get this up and going.”
“Is that what your parents would’ve wanted?”
“I think so. They were over the moon when they discovered the diamond pipes. It was all they talked about for months before they died. Our mom was designing jewelry, and they were excited. The mine… It’s the one piece of them we still get to touch.”
“I think that’s beautiful,” she says, and her voice feels like a warm hand on my chest.
Our food’s long gone, but neither of us moves.
We just sit there, easy and unhurried, caught in conversation that feels like it could go on forever.
I’ve dated women who were younger, flashy, impressive on paper.
But surface-level. This? This is different.
Ellory has depth. Purpose. Her mind moves fast, and every time she speaks, I want more.
Her laugh lingers in the space between us, warm and intimate. She’s so close I can smell the citrus on her skin, feel the heat of her knee brushing mine.
I glance at her lips—soft, pink—and I’m leaning in, about to kiss her, when the baby monitor crackles to life.
Amelia’s fussing breaks through like an airhorn.
Cockblocked by my eight-month-old.
Probably not the last time.
I sigh and smile. “Looks like the party’s about to start.”
Ellory rises slowly. “I should go. Let you get back to your afternoon with her.”
I stand too, reluctant. “She usually likes going for a walk after her nap. Want to come?”
Ellory tilts her head. “Only if it won’t mess with her schedule.”
“It won’t. It’s her favorite part of the day.”
I scoop Amelia out of her crib, change her diaper, and by the time we step into the elevator, she’s kicking her legs and grinning at the sight of the stroller. She’s ready.
And honestly…so am I.
My building overlooks Huntington Park, book ended between Grace Cathedral and the Fairmont Hotel.
On good-weather days like this, it’s a magnet for locals escaping the city grind—sun-drenched lawns, native plants, and the crown jewel is the ornate central fountain.
Amelia’s obsessed with it. That fountain earns a two-tooth smile every time.
We step into the lobby, and naturally, Mrs. Powell from 5B intercepts us like a heat-seeking missile. Her late husband renovated this building decades ago, and she’s ruled the homeowner’s board ever since. Sharp-tongued. Permanently disapproving. Always watching.
Her gaze drops to Amelia. “How long is that child staying with you?”
I plaster on my best smile. “I’d say…the next eighteen years or so. She’s my daughter.”
Her lips pucker into a prune. “I don’t like the noise she makes.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to get used to it,” I say with a shrug. “There’s nothing in the bylaws that says children aren’t allowed.”
“That can change,” she snaps.
“I’m sure it can. Let me know when it does. I’ll forward it to my lawyer. And just FYI? I know a good PR agency. I’m sure they could round up a few dozen mom groups to protest outside. Media loves a good David vs. Goliath story. Powell is easy to spell, right? It shouldn’t be too hard to find you.”
Her glare could strip paint. But I don’t flinch.
Ellory stifles a laugh behind her hand. I glance at her and grin.
Yeah. We’re definitely going on that walk.
“We do have rules about noise,” she hisses. “Her crying breaks them.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, she’s got lungs, probably gets them from her mom.
I do my best, but she’s eight months old.
Crying is how she communicates. And just to be clear, this isn’t a phase that’s going to end tomorrow.
First it’s crying, then music, laughter, tantrums. She’s a kid. She deserves to make noise.”
I don’t wait for her response. I push the stroller forward and step into the golden light of the afternoon. I hook my arm with Ellory, and we walk to the park.
I tell myself it’s just a hallway squabble. That she’s a lonely woman clinging to control. But something about her words stings because a month ago, I might’ve agreed with her.
My pulse is ticking faster than I’d like. I know I sounded like an ass, sparring with a cranky old woman in the lobby, but I’m not going to apologize for being a father. Not now. Not ever.
Beside me, Ellory murmurs, “Wow. You handled her…impressively.”
I let out a breath. “She’s always been difficult. Her late husband used to own my apartment. Ever since I bought it, she’s treated me like a hostile invader.”
“I’m guessing she didn’t love your…uh…nightlife?”
I laugh. “Nah. I didn’t bring many women home.”
Ellory blinks. “Not surprising given all the different women you’ve been photographed with.”
“I’m a firm believer in hotel rooms. Fewer questions. Fewer expectations.”
A pink flush colors her cheeks, and it takes everything in me not to reach for her again. I want to know how far that blush goes. I want to know what else makes her breath catch.
We take a slow lap around the park, sunlight filtering through the trees, Amelia dozing peacefully in her stroller. By the time we circle back to my building, Richard’s SUV is idling at the curb.
Ellory leans down and strokes Amelia’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me crash your afternoon, sweetheart. Be nice to your dad, okay?”
Amelia gurgles, flashing her two-tooth grin like she knows exactly what’s happening.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I step closer and press my lips to Ellory’s.
She stills for half a second and then melts into me.
Her mouth is soft, warm, and open. Her breath catches, and mine stumbles right behind it.
When her tongue meets mine, it’s slow and teasing, a perfect echo of the heat simmering between us all day.
She tastes like citrus and summer. Her hands curl into my shirt, and when she leans into me, I swear the world stops spinning.
She moans.
I groan in response.
And then Amelia lets out a delighted squeal that shatters the moment like glass.
We break apart, breathless.
“That was…” I pause, still catching up. “Yeah. That was incredible.”
Ellory steps back, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “I should go.”
“I get it.” I wrap my fingers tighter around the stroller handle than necessary. “Take care, Ellory,” I say, already missing her.
She hesitates for a beat, then gives me a little wave before climbing into the SUV. Richard holds the door, stone-faced, and just like that, she’s gone.
I stand there, dazed, watching them disappear down the street.
That kiss… That was something else. And the whole afternoon?
It wasn’t just nice. It was real. Talking with Ellory felt effortless. Being with her felt good. And I wouldn’t mind getting a look at what’s under those pink pants.
My phone buzzes.
Ellory: Thanks for today.
A slow smile spreads across my face. I scoop up Amelia, pressing my cheek to hers until she giggles, and snap a selfie.
Me: We had a great day too.
And I already know I’m going to make sure there’s a next time.