Chapter 21
LIZA
Iwoke up earlier than usual after maybe three hours of actual sleep. My mind had been too restless to let me rest properly. Every time I closed my eyes, I replayed the conversation with Darek on the dock. His words echoed in my head.
I want to take you out on a date. A real one.
I wanted to say yes immediately. I would have loved to throw caution to the wind and just admit that our arrangement had become real for me too. I had been so tempted to tell him I was falling for him and his daughter.
But we both knew the right thing to focus on. The home evaluation had to come first. Everything depended on it going well so Darek could keep custody of Daisie. We couldn’t afford any distractions.
I already knew my answer to his question. But I would wait. I would let him think I needed to think about it.
I got out of bed and went through my morning routine on autopilot.
For clothes, I went for something professional but casual, a nice blouse and slacks that said “stable girlfriend” without trying too hard.
Makeup but not too much. Hair down but neat.
I was trying to emulate the women I saw in the soap operas.
They always looked ready to walk into a business office even when they were just kicking around their lavish mansions.
I looked at myself in the mirror and gave myself a pep talk. “You can do this. You like them. You guys mesh well. This is just showing someone what your life actually looks like. Easy.”
Except it wasn’t easy because everything riding on today felt enormous.
Darek was putting himself through hell in his fight to keep his daughter.
Hiring me was a huge step. I couldn’t let him down.
I needed to put on the performance of my life.
I thought back, and the last time I did any acting was in the fifth grade at the school Christmas play. And I had sucked as a sugar plum fairy.
Not a comforting thought.
I went downstairs and found Darek already in the kitchen, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. He was wearing gray sweats (thank you to whoever made those) and a T-shirt. His hair was a bit of a mess, and he looked like he’d slept even less than I had.
“Morning,” I said.
He jumped slightly, like he’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard me come in. “Morning. Coffee?”
“Please.”
He poured me a cup with shaking hands, and I realized he was barely holding it together. The man was terrified of a court-appointed evaluator. Because this wasn’t about business. This was about Daisie. About the thing that mattered most in his world.
Daisie came bouncing down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed in a cute outfit that had clearly been laid out the night before. She was excited but nervous, that combination of energy and anxiety that kids got when they knew something important was happening but didn’t fully understand what.
“Is the lady coming today?” she asked.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Darek said. “Remember, she just wants to talk to us and see our house. It’s nothing scary.”
“I know. You told me like a hundred times.” She climbed into her chair at the table. “Can we have pancakes?”
“We’re having eggs and toast,” Darek said, already moving toward the stove. “Quick breakfast today.”
We ate or tried to eat. Darek kept glancing at his watch, and I noticed he barely touched his food. Daisie ate normally, chattering about school and her friend’s birthday party. She was blissfully oblivious to the tension radiating from the adults.
As soon as we finished, Darek practically leaped up to clear the plates. “Let me just get these in the dishwasher. Daisie, you need to brush your teeth and your hair.”
“Darek, we have an hour and a half,” I pointed out.
“I know, but the kitchen should be clean when she gets here. First impressions matter.”
But he stopped with the kitchen cleanup and looked across the open and very expansive living space.
I wasn’t sure what he saw, but he didn’t like it.
He abandoned the dishes and moved to the living room.
I watched him adjust the throw pillows. Then readjust them.
Then adjust them again. The blanket that was neatly draped over the corner of one sofa was his next victim.
He yanked it off, fluffed it up, and then replaced it.
The man was acting just a little neurotic. It wasn’t a good look.
I followed him and put my hand on his arm, stopping him mid-pillow-fluff. “She’s evaluating your parenting, not your throw pillows.”
He stared at me, then at the pillow in his hand, and let out a shaky laugh. “Right. You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”
“You’re being nervous. Which is completely understandable. But the house looks great, Daisie is happy and well-adjusted, and you’re an amazing father. This is going to go fine.”
“What if—”
“No what-ifs. We’re going to be calm and confident and show Ms. Ellison exactly what she needs to see. Daisie has a loving, stable home with a father who adores her.”
He took a deep breath, nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I just—I can’t lose her, Liza.”
“You’re not going to lose her.”
The buzzer for the gate rang.
We all froze. Darek looked at his watch, confusion crossing his face. “It’s only eight thirty. She’s not supposed to be here until ten.”
He walked to the wall with a monitor that spoke to the guardhouse. There was a small camera facing the gate.
“Oh shit,” Darek muttered. “Oh shit, she’s early. I’m still in a t-shirt. Daisie’s hair—”
“Go,” I said firmly. “Both of you. Upstairs. Get yourselves put together. I’ll answer the door and buy you some time.”
“But—”
“Darek, go. I’ve got this.”
He pushed the button to allow the woman entry and then grabbed Daisie’s hand and hurried upstairs.
“Showtime,” I murmured. “Time to earn my grocery money.”
I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and opened the front door. I stepped out and watched her ugly sedan pull to a stop. My smile was firmly in place. Then I realized I probably looked like a Stepford wife and relaxed it a little.
The woman that got out of the car was exactly what I expected from a court-appointed evaluator. Mid-fifties, sensible suit, sharp eyes that took in everything. She held a clipboard and wore an expression that gave away absolutely nothing.
“Good morning,” I said, extending my hand. “You must be Ms. Ellison. I’m Liza Jefferies.”
“Ms. Jefferies.” She shook my hand firmly. “I apologize for arriving early. My previous appointment cancelled, and I thought I’d take the opportunity to begin our evaluation.”
“Of course, no problem at all. Please, come in.” I stepped aside to let her enter. “Can I offer you some coffee? We just made a fresh pot.”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
I led her to the kitchen, very aware of her eyes taking in every detail. The family photos on the walls. The organized-but-lived-in feel of the space. The art projects on the fridge that were clearly Daisie’s work.
“This is a beautiful home,” Ms. Ellison said, accepting the coffee I poured her.
“Thank you. Darek will be down in just a minute. He was helping Daisie get ready for school.” The lie came easily. “Please, have a seat.”
She sat at the kitchen table where Daisie’s plate was still sitting.
I could feel her observing me. I delivered her coffee and picked up the plate, resisting the urge to apologize.
People ate at the table. And she was ninety minutes early.
If Darek was going to lose custody over evidence he had fed his child a hot breakfast, I would personally take the case to the Supreme Court.
“I have to admit, I wasn’t aware Mr. Sullivan was in a relationship,” she said in a way that told me she wasn’t exactly thrilled. “It wasn’t mentioned in any of the paperwork.”
Alarm bells went off in my head. This was it, the moment where our story either held up or fell apart.
“We’ve been together for a few months,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Darek’s been fairly private about his personal life, especially with everything going on with the custody case. But yes, we’re together, and I’ve been living here for a couple of weeks now.”
“And what do you do, Ms. Jefferies?”
“I’m a PhD candidate in marine biology. I’m working on my dissertation on whale migration patterns along the New England coast. The location here is perfect for my research.”
“How convenient.” There was something in her tone that I couldn’t quite read. Skepticism? Curiosity?
“It is,” I agreed. “Though I have to admit, I came for the whales and stayed for—” I stopped, smiled. “Well, for Darek and Daisie. They’re pretty special.”
Before she could ask another probing question, Darek appeared in the doorway.
He had changed into black slacks and a blue button-down shirt.
He looked all put-together and devastatingly handsome.
Daisie was behind him, her hair now neatly brushed and pulled back with a headband, her face pink-cheeked and bright.
“Ms. Ellison,” Darek said, extending his hand. “I apologize for not meeting you when you arrived. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour and a half.”
“My fault entirely for arriving unannounced.” She shook his hand. “But it gives us a more authentic view of your daily life, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose it does.” He pulled up a chair beside me. I noticed the way his hand briefly touched my back, a small, intimate gesture that looked completely natural. “What do you need from me?”
What followed was an hour and a half of questions and observation. Ms. Ellison asked Darek about his work schedule, his childcare arrangements, and Daisie’s routine. He answered confidently, painting a picture of a devoted father who had restructured his entire life to prioritize his daughter.
And it wasn’t a lie. Everything he said was true.
He offered to give Ms. Ellison a tour of the house, and she accepted. I stayed in the kitchen with Daisie while they walked through the main floor. I could hear Darek’s voice as he showed off different spaces.
When they came back, Ms. Ellison asked to see Daisie’s room. We all went upstairs together. I hung back as Darek showed her the space he’d created for his daughter.
It was perfect. Not in a sterile, magazine-spread way, but in a way that showed his child was loved and encouraged.
Her artwork was taped to the walls. Her bookshelf was full of books at various reading levels.
There was a little reading corner with cushions and good lighting and a basket of stuffed animals.
“Did you make this yourself, Daisie?” Ms. Ellison asked, pointing to a particularly elaborate drawing of a whale.
“Yes! Liza helped me with the colors. She knows all about whales.”
“Is that so?” Ms. Ellison looked at me with renewed interest.
“We went out on Daddy’s boat and saw real whales!” Daisie said with genuine excitement. “There were like five of them and one did a big jump and it was so cool!”
Ms. Ellison smiled. “That does sound cool.”
She asked Daisie a few more questions, gentle ones about school and friends and what she liked to do with her dad. Daisie answered enthusiastically, completely at ease. I could see Ms. Ellison’s assessment shifting with each response.
Daisie was a happy, well-adjusted kid with a father who clearly adored her.
After what felt like hours but was probably only ninety minutes, Ms. Ellison closed her notebook and stood. “I think I have everything I need. Thank you all for your time and cooperation.”
“Of course,” Darek said. “Whatever you need.”
“I’ll compile my report and submit it to the court within the week. Daisie is clearly thriving in this environment. You’ve created a loving, stable home, Mr. Sullivan. That will be reflected in my evaluation.”
The relief that washed over Darek’s face was almost painful to witness. “Thank you. That means everything.”
After Ms. Ellison left, the three of us stood in the foyer in silence for a moment. “Did we do good?” Daisie whispered, like she was worried someone would overhear.
Darek swept her up into a hug. “You did perfect, kiddo. Absolutely perfect.”
“Am I going to school now?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m going to have George take you. Is that okay?”
George was Darek’s driver, butler, sometimes nanny, and definitely security.
Five minutes later, it was just us.
For a second, we just looked at each other. Then he pulled me into a hug, holding me tight.
“Thank you,” he said into my hair. “Thank you for being here, for handling her showing up early and everything else.”
“You did great,” I told him. “You were calm and confident and perfect.”
“We did great. Together.” He pulled back and seemed to let out a sigh. I saw hope and relief and something deeper in his eyes.
“About that date,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I would love to. I would absolutely love to go on a real date with you.”
His smile had my body responding like he had just proposed sex. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Anywhere. I don’t care where, as long as it’s with you.”
“I can do that.” He was still smiling. “I have some ideas actually.”
“I’m sure you do.”