Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
FIVE YEARS LATER…
“Run, Claire!” I leap off the cold bleachers, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Run, baby!”
“Come on, Southpaw!” Blue encourages, standing beside me.
Those on the home side are all cheering her on as she now rounds second base while the opposing team fumbles with the ball in the outfield. I clap frantically, still yelling loudly as I will her little legs to carry her to home plate.
As she rounds third, the outfielders finally get hold of the ball and launch it toward the catcher. Her coach is telling her to slide, and my hands cover my mouth on their own accord; sliding is the one thing she has yet to master.
Blue reaches for my hands, pulling my right one away from my face and gripping it tightly in her own. My eyes widen as Claire slides effortlessly into home plate just moments before the catcher gets hold of the softball.
“Safe!” the umpire yells, and our half of the bleachers go wild.
Blue screams, jumping up and down with me in tow, both of us celebrating my little girl. All the surrounding parents are yelling their own cheers, the last game of fall league won from my daughter’s hit.
I push past two parents, not caring as I run towards the field and grip the chain-link fence, watching as Claire pushes herself up to her feet and receives a high-five from her coach. She turns to me with the biggest smile gracing her beautiful face.
I can’t stop the proud, happy tears that spring to my eyes as I watch her teammates run out from the bench and encircle my little girl.
Placing a hand over my heart, I watch her beaming, so confident in herself, and I know, in this moment, that everything I have done leading up to this has—so far—paid off.
“What a hit,” a familiar voice says beside me. I turn to see one of the single dads standing there, his coat in his hand, and I nod in agreement. “She keeps that up, she’s definitely going places.”
“That’s the hope.” My eyes drift back over towards the team to see them heading to the bench to retrieve their gear. Turning my attention back to the man, who I now remember to be named Joe, I smile. “As long as they’re happy, though, right?”
“Right.” Joe nods, a smile of his own covering his sharp features as he stares at his own daughter who is hugging Claire. “By the way, where’s Travis? Haven’t seen him around in a while.”
My eyebrows furrow together slightly as I hesitate to respond. I feel a small knot in my stomach, which always seems to be present lately, tighten as I look back to my daughter to see her hiking her bag up on her shoulder.
“Oh, you know,” I tell him lazily, shrugging my shoulders. “Work has been pretty hectic for him lately.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He is a big shot record producer, after all.” Joe doesn’t sound very genuine. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but is being nice for my benefit.
Before I can say anything more, Claire comes running over to us. As she approaches, I bend down and swoop her up, struggling to hold her on my hip as her small arms firmly wrap around my neck.
“Did you see that, mom?” Claire boasts as she pulls back to look me in the eye. “Did you see what I did?”
“Of course, baby.” I press a kiss to her cheek before setting her down, kneeling so I can look up at her. “I’m so proud of you.”
Claire beams as Blue comes walking over. She launches herself against my best friend, her arms winding around her waist as Blue ruffles my daughter’s blonde locks. “Great job out there, kid.”
“Thanks, Auntie.” Claire lets go so she can look at the both of us with a mischievous grin. “Does that mean we can go get ice cream?”
“Yeah, kid,” Blue answers as I stand, wrapping her arm around Claire’s shoulders. “You want ice cream even though it’s only fifty-eight degrees out, then let’s go get ice cream.”
Claire grins like the Cheshire Cat before turning to look up at me with a confused expression. “Where’s Grandpa and Aunt Neve?”
Blue grabs my daughter’s hand as I pick up her softball bag and lead the way to the parking lot. Some of her friends run over and congratulate her on the hit, thrilled to have won their last game of the off season. I smile softly before her attention turns back to me, waiting for an answer.
“Grandpa was having car trouble, and Aunt Neve had a job interview.” We approach the car and I throw her bag in the trunk. “But don’t worry. Grandpa is coming over tomorrow night to watch you.”
“If Travis shows up,” Blue mumbles under her breath.
I whip my head in her direction and narrow my eyes, my hand resting on Claire’s shoulder.
Blue holds up her hands slightly in self-defense, clearing her throat and turning back to my daughter.
“Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll take you for that ice cream? ”
Claire looks up at me. “Why aren’t you coming?”
“I have to run to the office quick, baby.” I brush some of her hair behind her ear as I give her a gentle smile. “Blue’s going to take you home and hang out with you until I get back. I promise I won’t be too late.”
“And dad?”
I rest my hand back on her shoulder, my eyes trailing up to Blue. She raises a brow at me in response as that familiar, angered expression comes to her face at the mere mention of Travis. I focus my attention back on my daughter and lean down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“He’s still on his business trip, baby,” I lie, hoping the smile on my face appears genuine. “We’ll see if he has some time to talk tonight, all right? Now, go with Auntie Blue. I’ll be home soon.”
I watch as Claire grabs Blue’s hand and follows her over to her car. Once my daughter is in the back seat, Blue casts a glance in my direction, one that I can easily read what her eyes are saying: you can’t lie to her forever.
Once they pull out of the parking lot, I climb into my vehicle and fish my phone out of my purse. Clicking the screen, I notice five unread texts from my boss, Kirstin, as well as eighteen unread work emails.
Kirstin Davis
Good morning, Mar. I know your daughter has a game today, so there’s no rush, but I heard from JJ and she would like to fill out an application. Think you can email her one before the end of the day?
Scratch my last text. She came into the office and filled one out.
Hey, love. The caterers for next weekend’s event emailed me some options for food and music. I forwarded you the email. Think you can help me narrow it down?
Who the hell is Ed Sheeran? Is he popular? I don’t stay up to date with music like I probably should. Do we book him?
And now I feel like an idiot thanks to Google. Never repeat that last text to anyone.
I can’t help it as I laugh out loud and shake my head, turning on the ignition and cranking up the heat before replying to her messages.
Me
Game just ended. On my way to the office now. I can go over the list when I get there. Want me to pick up some lunch on the way in?
After she responds, I take a quick detour to pick up some lunch, per her request, before heading off to the office. Thanks to the busy New York City streets, it takes me over an hour to get to the building. I race inside toward the front desk with two bags of food in hand.
“Good afternoon, Rus,” I greet the receptionist as I set the bag that is in my left hand down on the ledge. “I brought you your favorite.”
“Thank you, Mar, but you didn’t have to do that.” He stands and opens the top of the bag to peer inside. “But I will admit, I’m not complaining.”
I laugh softly and shake my head, readjusting my purse that is on my shoulder. “Of course I had to. I know you never get yourself lunch. Who would take care of you if not for me?”
“I take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.” I arch a brow as I hold out my badge for him to scan so I can get past security and to the elevators. “All right, fine. I’d be a mess without you.”
I chuckle as he buzzes me in, waving over my shoulder as I push past the large glass doors and make my way to the elevator.
A minute passes before the elevator finally arrives, and I hastily climb on, pressing the button for the eighteenth floor.
I tap my foot as the elevator takes me up, growing impatient and disliking the choice of music echoing through the small chamber.
The familiar ding sounds before the doors open, and I don’t hesitate as I rush off and take a left to head towards the office at the end of the hall.
Kirstin Davis Matchmaking Services covers the entire north side of the building on the eighteenth floor; four graphic designers for her website and marketing materials, two journalists who work on giving pieces to the newspapers and magazines as well as writing for the site and newsletters, four large meetings rooms for clients and partners, one office for the three accountants who rotate shifts, and me.
I push the door open and walk in, scanning the small offices to discover that it is just Kirstin and me today.
Walking straight to her large office in the back right corner, the only room made entirely of glass walls, I make my way in without knocking as she types away at her computer that is resting on her all white desk.
“How’s it coming?” Setting the bag of food down on the only small sliver of surface area left, I pull out the container with her salad and set it on top of her notepad.
I take off my black vest that I wore over my white sweater and rest it over the back of the chair I often sat in before grabbing my meal.
Reaching for a fork, I pop open the lid before falling into my seat across from her desk. “Find your favorite Ed Sheeran song?”
“Oh, ha ha,” Kirstin responds, looking up from her desk as her fingers halt. “That being said, though, I think I got the food figured out.”
I nod as she takes a bite of lettuce, twirling a fork in my pasta as I think about next weekend's event. “What do you need me to do?”