4. Elodie
ELODIE
As soon as I enter the highly reviewed Italian restaurant with a dark interior, I’m ushered by the hostess to the back, to a circular corner booth with a white linen tablecloth tucked away from everyone, where Hayes is already waiting.
The hostess seems to notice that my scowl isn’t changing into a polite smile for her, which isn’t like me, but I’m boiling. She skitters away.
Hayes looks up as I hover, standing stiffly beside the table, not taking my seat yet.
“If you want to play dirty, then I sure as hell will,” I begin, with venom in my voice and my hand on my hip.
I hate two things right now. One is the way the corner of his mouth curls up into a sly smirk while he’s in a three-piece suit, which causes me to forget to breathe for a beat. Two, he is doing everything to make me livid.
He begins to stand because the man has manners and waits for the woman to sit down. “I didn’t order seafood since we both hate it.” He remembers.
But I let go of that little fact when I recall our last conversation. "I’m not going to stay long. I want you to know that if you come at me with your fancy lawyers or legal documents, I won’t hesitate to fight back with a lawyer of my own."
His lips roll in, and for a second, he appears remorseful.
“Elodie,” he says, his tone firm.
I point my finger at him because I’m not going to let him take charge of this conversation. “You need to back it up. Imagine my surprise when I dropped Lola off at daycare this morning, and they let me know that you requested to be updated on her day and are now also an emergency contact.”
“Well, they informed me they need your permission, but still. Why not?” My eyes drill into him with my face blank, waiting for the smart man to figure it out.
He swings his eyes to the side before zooming back to meet my own.
“I admit that was a step too far and should have checked in with you first. I apologize. I’m just eager to learn about Lola. ”
I pause, weighing what’s best for my daughter against my memories of this man.
He senses it and spreads his hand out to the table. “Please, join me. We need to talk.” I remain in place. “For Lola.” His voice softens, not at all suited to the image of a man who has his own driver and meets with billionaires every day. Nor the man from the weekend whose wrath I faced.
With a deep breath, I slide into the booth opposite him. “I’m listening, but we have to figure something out.”
He nods once in understanding. “Agreed.”
I lift my chin slightly as I investigate him. He's different today, I sense it. “Have you decided to ditch the asshole approach for this conversation? Because our last one wasn't so great,” I remind him.
He actually has a shade of a smirk on his face. “You might have had a point and I wasn't my best self when we spoke back in Everhope.”
"Really? Who could have guessed?” I say, deadpan.
The corner of his mouth ticks due to my comment. Does he find me amusing? He clears his throat. “I would like to make up for that. I'm a better man, and you'll quickly learn that.”
“I don’t deserve the way you’ve approached this all,” I quietly point out.
“No, you don’t,” he solemnly agrees. “Shock and adrenaline clearly don’t bring out my finest qualities.”
He sighs and nods a thanks to the college-aged waiter who delivers his whiskey on the rocks; Hayes gestures if I want one, and I shake my head. Water is safer, I need to focus.
“I’m trying to be a little more understanding because if I were in your shoes, then I would be losing my mind, too.”
He smiles softly. “Understanding sounds like you. You saw a wounded crab on the sand and worried about it for a solid five minutes. You don’t have an ounce of venom inside you.”
Creases form on my forehead because the tiny detail grabs me. “Can’t believe you remember that.”
Hayes moves his glass in a circle, appraising the ice cubes as they swirl. “Hard to forget.”
The sincerity dripping in his tone is overwhelming because deep down, my instincts tell me it's true.
“How do I know you won’t disappear? I can’t let Lola get attached just to be hurt.”
Hayes’s eyes nearly bug out, and he seems flabbergasted.
“Do you really think I would do that? Like really?” He isn’t at all impressed.
“The man who literally, within two hours of finding out, was offering legal options to ensure that I see her and she is financially secure. The man you will be around a lot because of mutual friends and work. And you have the audacity to ask me that?”
My lips tighten, and I inhale. “Okay. You’ve had days to digest this. From the start, you were all in. I’m…” I glance down, nervously playing with a fork. “It’s not what I expected. Most men in your situation would demand a paternity test or something.”
“Why the hell would I? Let me highlight again that we will be around each other a lot and that there is no advantage to you in lying, nor do I sense that you would. Shall I point out how blatantly obvious it is that Lola is mine? One look is all it takes. A calendar makes it obvious, too.” He’s heating up a bit.
“You’re right. But having a child is a big life change.”
“Elodie, you are right. Being a father hadn’t exactly crossed my mind lately. But that papa-bear internal-instinct bullshit is legit. So here I am.”
At last, I crack, my jaw tense and the corner of my mouth stretching. “It is real,” I assure him, voice low. “That’s why I’m mama bear right now.”
We offer each other a comforting look.
Inside of me blooms what I can relate to. “I get it.”
One flick and his eyes dart straight into me. “We have a lot to unpack, eh.”
“We do,” I agree.
Another waiter arrives with a few dishes of food to share. A tossed salad, breadsticks, ravioli, and a slice of tiramisu.
I frown, but at the same time, I try to fight a grin. “Feeding an army?”
He chuckles as we are left alone again. “I figured we might be here a while and might need fuel for our discussion.”
“Smart.”
He leans back and shows little interest in food; he studies me up and down, and I begin to feel self-conscious. “How is the cousin who married your prom date?”
“Filing for divorce,” I say blandly. “How is your dad, who told you to be reckless? I’m not sure he would have suggested an unexpected pregnancy as part of his advice, but still.” I lift a shoulder.
Hayes bites the inside of his cheek, and I must have said something because a shade of vulnerability appears. “He passed, actually. A heart attack. Last year.”
Sympathy fills me. I touch my chest. "I’m sorry to hear." He spoke about him a few times that night; they were close.
He begins to smile faintly to himself. “Maybe that’s why I’m jumping in? Something to do with that. Not having a father anymore. He was a good man, humble, and did his best to give me opportunities. If I can give Lola opportunities, I will. He for sure influenced me to ensure family comes first.”
I slide around the circular booth to be close enough to comfort him, and I consider touching his arm. “Sounds like it.”
My fingers give in and imprint on his arm, my thumb stroking that spot between his expensive watch and his elbow.
That feeling that my body hasn’t forgotten, the thrill of being around someone I’m attracted to, with not a care in the world.
Hayes pats the top of my hand in appreciation of the comfort.
“You still smell of coconut,” he mentions faintly. Wow. He remembers a lot, apparently.
The memories of the island come back. At times, we ignored everything but that moment. Except it’s different this time when reality hits. We are now two people responsible for a child. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but this is by no means easy.
“So tell me, Mr. Self-Made Billionaire, how did it all come to be?” I smile.
He grabs his glass. “Not much to say. I had a scholarship for a private high school—”
“Superstar swimmer. I remember.”
“Yeah. With my grades, I got into one of the best universities on the east coast, and after that, I just found luck with the right companies to take a chance on. I’m used to tech, but Julian managed to persuade me. Operations can be applied to any company. Here I am. A change.”
“A challenge, maybe, too. Shipments are not algorithms.”
“But running departments can be the same. Improving internal day-to-day running is essential for any company.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Fair enough.”
“You? How did you end up at Haven Crossroads?”
“Typical story. Graduated from college here in the state. By chance, Olivia in HR is also from Everhope, although she was a few years ahead of me in school. Anyhow, she helped me join the graduate program, and I worked my way up. I would like to think I’m doing alright.
Even when I accidentally got pregnant, I kept going—proving I’m capable, even if it sometimes feels like I need to defend my success. But I digress.”
Something in his mind is stewing, but he isn’t sharing his thoughts. “What do you want to do now?” he comments more than asks.
“Attack the salad first.” He squints at me, and I grin. “Not like there is a bigger issue at hand,” I joke.
He chuckles under his breath at my ability to add humor to this situation.
“Only meeting my daughter for the first time,” he responds lightheartedly.
I let our touch go and quirk my lips out, considering the approach. “This weekend?”
“Sooner.” He’s obstinate, but his voice is calm.
“After work, I pick her up from daycare, but she can be crabby. We get home, have dinner, bathtime, then bed by seven… for her, not me.” His eyes turn bold, and he must be thinking something else because he has a droll smile. “Not that my bedtime matters or anything.”
“No. Not at all.” He sounds unconvinced. “But leave work early.”
“I’d need to talk to Foster.” Hayes glances away awkwardly, and my internal radar flashes. “What did you do?” I nearly grit my teeth.
“You can leave early. I might have already…”
I grumble to myself, then remember to stay calm. “You've got to be kidding me.”