Chapter 13 #2
I press my lips together, trying to hide my amusement. “Maddie Girl, I’m sure she’s been to a Cheesecake Factory before.”
Sabrina looks up from the appetizer page of her menu. “I haven’t, actually.”
“You’ve never been?” Maddie practically shrieks. “Dad, we have to order everything so Sabrina can try it all.”
I shake my head. My girl could have me in stitches all day if she were trying. “Trust me, kid, there’s no way we could eat it all. Though,” I say before she can argue, “we can get some extra things.”
Sabrina holds both hands up. “It’s okay, really.”
When the server comes by for our drink order, Maddie and I list off four or five of our favorite appetizers as well.
“Noah.” The way she rasps my name has my pants getting tight. Shit. “We don’t need that much food.”
With a shrug, I tear off a chunk of bread. “Just try a little of each.”
Sabrina’s phone buzzes on the table, and she picks it up quickly. Immediately, her face falls, and she sets the device down again with an audible swallow.
Bread held aloft, I watch her, searching for clues to her change in demeanor. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just my mom.” She taps her fingernails against the table anxiously. This week they’re painted a bright tennis ball green thanks to Maddie.
“Want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” She gives Maddie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before sliding out of the booth.
“Is Sabrina okay?” my daughter asks once she’s out of earshot.
“I hope so.” I follow her with my eyes until she disappears down the hall to the bathroom.
“We should get cheesecake,” Maddie says, applying a copious amount of butter to her piece of bread. “Cheesecake makes everything better.”
My teeth ache at the prospect of all that sugar. “Let’s make it through dinner first and then we’ll talk to dessert.”
Several minutes later, when Sabrina still hasn’t returned, worry niggles at me. Maddie too, if the look on her face is any indication.
She pops up on her knees again and cranes her neck, scanning the dining area. “She’s taking a long time.”
My gut churns with unease. “If you promise not to leave the table, I’ll check on her.”
With a nod, she lowers herself to her backside and picks up another piece of bread.
In the dim hallway, I knock on the door to the women’s restroom and ease it open a few inches.
“Sabrina?”
I’m met with the sound of a familiar throat clearing.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says, voice thick with tears.
“No, you’re fucking not.”
A fierce surge of protectiveness rushes over me. I push the door fully open—damn the consequences—and step into the restroom. I find her around the corner at the sink, attempting to clean up her makeup.
“Noah,” she breathes in a way that makes my blood warm, fixing one of her curls. “Please, go. I’m okay. You shouldn’t be in here.”
I loom behind her, attention fixed on her reflection. “What did the text say?”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head subtly. “It’s not important.”
“You’re crying. It clearly is.”
Hands braced on the stone countertop, she exhales. “I’ll be okay. I’m strong.”
I’m not sure whether she says that last part for my benefit or hers, but I’m betting on hers.
I take a breath, choosing to give her something so she knows she’s not alone.
“I haven’t spoken to my parents in years.
I grew up with money, so at least they were generous enough to send me to fancy tennis camps and foot the bill for anything related to it.
I’m thankful for that. Otherwise, they were shitty.
But…” I shake my head. “All I’m trying to say is I know how it is.
Even Annie’s parents weren’t the best. When she got pregnant young, they …
let’s just say some hurtful things were said, and there was no coming back from it. ”
She turns around, shoulders straighter than they were a moment before. “Thank you for sharing that. I hate that your families suck, but is it terrible to say I’m glad I’m not alone?”
“Not a bit. But…” I duck down so she’s forced to meet my eye. “I’m going to ask you again—what did the text say?”
Shoulders drooping, she focuses on the tiled floor between us. I don’t want to force her to tell me, but I hate that she feels she has to keep it to herself. I know what it’s like shouldering heartbreak and pain. It’s not good keep everything inside. If I can help, even a little, then I want to.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket and holds it up to unlock it using Face ID. The moment I take it from her, she steps back, wringing her hands, gaze lowered.
Mother Dearest: You think you’re too good for us now? Dolores told me she saw photos of you with a tennis player in Australia. You’ll spread your legs for anyone, won’t you? Anything for an extra buck. You’re a disgrace.
Anger simmers inside me and my grip on the phone tightens. I feel like I could crush it like this if I wanted.
“What a bitch.” I don’t care if I’m calling her mother names. That’s what she is. “Why would she say something like that?”
With a sniffle, she takes the device and slides it into her pocket. “I shouldn’t let her get to me. This is how she’s always been. I only hear from her when she wants to say shit like this. But…”
“Sometimes words cut deep.”
“Yeah.” She inhales a shaky breath. “Do I look awful? I don’t want Maddie to know I’ve been crying.”
My heart cracks open. Fuck, she’s dealing with an emotional crisis, yet she’s worried about my daughter?
“You look beautiful.” The words slip out before I can stop them. A strange affection for her runs through me, despite how hard I try to stop it. “I’ll, uh, give you another minute.”
“No, I’m okay.” She plasters on a closed-mouth smile and lifts her chin.
The door to the bathroom opens and a woman jolts back with surprise.
“Sorry.” I hold up a hand and grimace. “We’re on our way out. Just checking on my girl.”
The moment the words are out, I squeeze my eyes shut.
Fucking hell, Noah. My girl? Are you drunk?
Unfortunately, no.
Clearing my throat, I move past Sabrina and the newcomer, muttering a “sorry about that,” as I leave. “My girl,” I mutter to myself on the way back to the booth. I shake my head back and forth like if I do it enough, I can erase those words from having ever left my mouth. “Idiot.”
“Who’s an idiot?” Maddie asks as I sit back down.
“Me.”
“Oh … well, I knew that. Is Sabrina okay?”
“I’m right here, sweetie.” The gorgeous, sad woman appears, smoothing down the back of her dress and sliding in.
“Are you okay?” Maddie hooks her arm around Sabrina’s. “You were gone a long time.”
“I’m okay, promise.” She ruffles my daughter’s hair, her eyes briefly making contact with mine and swimming with appreciation.
I say a prayer that she never brings up the “my girl” comment. If she does, I might burst into flames.
Within moments of placing our order, our appetizers arrive.
Maddie points out each one, but in the end says, “Let me just make you a plate.”
Sabrina gives her a genuine smile as she grabs the small plate and loads it up with a bit of each thing. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” Sabrina bumps her shoulder lightly against Maddie’s. “You’re pretty cool. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
I can’t help but smile at the confidence my daughter exudes. Annie and I worked hard to instill a positive sense of self in her. Now it’s up to me to keep up the job.
By the time we climb into the Lyft after dinner, the moon is shining in the sky. And when we make it back to the hotel with a bag full of various cheesecakes to sample, Maddie is dragging her feet and complaining about how tired and full she is.
Sabrina hesitates in the shared space, fingers laced in front of her. “Thank you for dinner. Thank you for the other thing too.”
For sharing about my parents.
The air simmers between us, our gazes held for one, two, three breaths.
Finally, the tension pops.
“You’re welcome.”
With a silent nod, she turns and pads to her room. When the door shuts behind her, I let out a breath.
“What are you doing?” I mutter aloud.
I don’t know what the hell the feelings swirling inside me mean, but I’m scared.
Terrified, really, that I’ve developed feelings for someone other than Annie.
It’s too soon.
Too fast.
Too wrong.
She’s the nanny. She can’t be mine, and I’d do well to remember that.