Chapter 20 Sullivan
SULLIVAN
Molly’s small “ooh” as Tate sits on the grass and slides a daisy chain over her curls like a headband has my heart seizing painfully like it’s in a vise.
She has this with Sinclair. But not often enough. Tate coming into her life has filled my little girl’s eyes with something I haven’t been able to give her.
The happiness of time spent with other women.
I can do the dressing up, the games, the nail painting. But I can’t give her this.
Once or twice, I’ve questioned whether keeping Natasha away from Molly was the right decision.
But I only have to hear her slurred, drunken pleading for more money, to reassure myself that it was.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it isn’t just alcohol she’s addicted to.
I can’t have Molly exposed to that. Natasha’s been given the choice.
Get clean and have the opportunity to see Molly.
Or carry on the way she is, and possibly lose her life to substance abuse before Molly even starts school.
She’s chosen the latter.
Tate looks up and her smile falters as she sees me staring.
“Is it time to go? Do you need to get back?” She checks her watch.
I close my laptop and place it on the grass beside me, leaning back on my hands and stretching out my shoulders. These pants alone cost twenty thousand dollars. But Molly’s happy giggle floating over to me makes all concerns about grass stains and dirt evaporate.
“No,” I say, pulling out my phone and snapping a picture of Molly with the flowers in her hair.
“Okay then.” Tate smiles and plucks another daisy from the ground, winking at Molly. “I think Daddy would look good with a necklace. What do you think?”
Molly’s stroking the daisies around my neck with one small fingertip, tracing over each flower with care as I carry her back along Fifth Avenue. She claimed her legs were too tired from chasing the pigeons outside The Songbird hotel that faces onto Central Park to walk the rest of the way back.
“The park was a good call,” I tell Tate as we stop on the sidewalk between Caffeine Couture and Beaufort Diamonds. “Someone’s tired and should sleep well tonight.” I kiss the top of Molly’s head.
“It was all this one’s idea,” Tate replies, tickling Molly under one arm and making her squirm and giggle in my arms. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” she says to Molly.
My daughter reaches for Tate and Tate glances at me with an unsure expression.
“You want a cuddle, Sweetheart?” I ask Molly.
She nods enthusiastically and reaches for Tate.
I pass Molly into Tate’s arms and hold back the bite of protectiveness that fills my chest as Molly sinks happily into her embrace and Tate closes her eyes and presses her face into Molly’s curls.
My father’s right. I need to loosen the reins a little. What kind of man would I be to deny my daughter the affection Tate obviously has for her, because I find it difficult to let go?
Molly deserves love and attention. She deserves the damn world, and I’m going to do whatever it takes for her to get it.
“What a lovely big squeeze,” Tate says as Molly kisses her on the cheek with a ‘mwah’ sound.
Our eyes connect over Molly’s shoulder and Tate smiles at me before she kisses Molly back. “Next time I see you, we’ll have bear pancakes, okay?”
“Yay!” Molly grins as Tate hands her back to me.
I hold her in one arm as my phone rings in my pocket. I place my laptop down so I can pull it out and answer.
“Dad? Everything okay?”
I hold Tate’s questioning gaze and give her a small nod when my father tells me that Halliday and the baby are both fine, but that he’s going to stay at home with her, and I can drop Molly over for the rest of the afternoon.
Tate exhales and her face softens like she’s relieved.
“Yeah, I can do that now,” I tell my father after he asks me to go to Seasons for him. “We’ll head over there, and I’ll bring Molly to you after.”
I hang up and text Cliff before pocketing my phone.
“My father needs me to check on something at Seasons. I’m going to head over there now.”
“You’re close, aren’t you? Always helping one another. It’s really nice.”
I look at Tate’s innocent expression. “We’re Beauforts, Tate,” I say by way of explanation. “It’s what we do. Family always comes first. Cliff can drop you home after.”
“What? No, it’s fine. I’ll get the subway.”
“Cliff always takes you home,” I clip.
“Yeah, because it’s usually evening. It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
Tate blows out a breath as I remain silent, refusing to negotiate.
“Fine, okay. Thanks,” she says.
“Good.” I nod. “He’s bringing the car around now.”
“Sullivan?”
The voice makes me stiffen, and I turn slowly toward the woman approaching us, wondering if I’m imagining it.
“Hi…” Her eyes rake over me, stalling on Molly in my arms. “I was hoping I’d find you.”
Her blonde hair is longer than when I last saw her, flowing over the shoulders of the fitted white dress she’s wearing. And her makeup is immaculate, highlighting her natural beauty. She was always stunning and perfectly presented.
Except that night when her eyes were red from crying as she walked out.
“Claudia?” I reply.
“It’s good to see you.” She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek, one hand resting on my upper arm.
Her perfume wafts over me. It’s the same one she’s always worn. One I bought for her.
Molly snuggles closer to me. “Who that lady, Daddy?”
Claudia’s brows shoot up at hearing Molly’s voice.
“I’m an old friend of your daddy’s,” she says, her attention glued to Molly like she’s an exhibit in a museum. “Gosh, she looks just like you, doesn’t she?”
My grip on Molly tightens.
Claudia’s trance is broken as Molly looks toward Tate as if for reassurance.
“Oh, sorry. Were you about to get a coffee?” Claudia asks, spotting Tate in her uniform. “I could… I could join you. I thought we could talk?”
“I’m actually about to leave,” I say as Cliff parks the car along the sidewalk behind her.
Claudia glances at Cliff climbing out of the car. “Hi, Cliff.” She smiles.
“Miss Hayward.” Cliff nods in greeting, recognizing her immediately.
He drove us home the night I proposed. He also drove her to the airport the night she left.
He’s never asked what happened. Instead, he helped me install Molly’s first baby car seat the morning after, his only words about what a special baby she was.
He was smitten the first time he laid eyes on Molly. Just like we all were.
Except Claudia.
Claudia looks back at me and pulls a card from her purse. “I’m staying at The Songbird for a few days for work before I go back to Boston. I’d love to have dinner and catch up. I’ve got a table booked at seven tomorrow night. Join me?”
I take the embossed card and read it. Claudia Hayward Designs.
“You started your interior design company?”
She nods. “You always told me I could do it. You were always so supportive.” Her eyes slide to Molly, and she smiles sadly before looking back at me. “Please come, Sullivan. I’ll be waiting for you.”
She reaches out and squeezes my hand, then leaves.
My grip on my glass of water tightens and my attention wanders from Seasons bar manager chatting to me about how New York’s mayor had been in the previous night as laughter rings out from the stage.
Tate’s smiling and chatting with Vincent as he plays cartoon theme tunes on the piano. Molly claps enthusiastically beside her as he comes to the end of another one.
“Give me a minute,” I tell Phillipe.
I move further along the bar, closer to the stage, and lean back, sipping my water, pulling out my phone so it appears like I’ve moved to make a call.
“Sullivan and I aren’t a… thing,” Tate tells Vincent in a low voice, glancing at Molly as she happily holds her baby doll and mimics it pressing the keys on the piano. “I’m helping out with Molly. He’s my boss.”
“Sorry, my mistake. I thought he mentioned a dinner date,” Vincent says, sounding far too friendly for my liking. I’ve heard that tone before when he’s flirted with women who gush over his piano playing.
“Oh, that’s with a woman we just bumped into. Claudia, I think her name was,” Tate replies.
“Blonde? Tall? Beautiful?” Vincent asks.
“Yes to all the above.” Tate smiles.
“Uh-huh.” He runs a hand around his jaw. “That’s his ex-fiancée.”
“Really? Wow. Well, yeah, he’s going on a date with her,” Tate replies.
Damn it. The only reason I told Vincent I might be dining at The Songbird soon is because I know he’s desperate to know what set the pianist they have plays. She’s excellent apparently. And Vincent’s intrigued.
Like he’s too fucking intrigued about Tate’s personal life right now.
“No boyfriend, then?” he asks.
Tate’s smile widens. “No boyfriend.”
“Do you want one?” He winks.
She laughs. “That sounds like an offer?”
“How about I take you on a date, and you can decide if I’m in with a shot?”
“Um…” Tate’s laughter strains like she’s shy, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
I lean closer, straining to hear her response.
“Sure, why not.”
I slam my glass down so hard on the bar it echoes through the room.
“Time to go!” I bark.
Tate looks over in surprise. “You’re done?”
“I’m done,” I reply through gritted teeth.
I questioned whether having Tate back working for me was a wise decision or a monumental mistake. The way my hands are curling into fists like I want to punch something tells me… it’s the latter.