Chapter 4 Vance #3
She chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much.” Her expression softened, the earlier wariness gone. “Tell me about Margot.”
“Margot.” I teared up hearing her name come from Lila’s mouth. “She was my whole world from the moment she was born. When they put her in my arms for the first time, this overwhelming, all-consuming love just … crashed into me. I wanted only to protect her. But I couldn’t. Not from her mother.”
“Why do you think she took her from you?”
“It’s hard to explain Nicole. Years of therapy have taught me she’s the classic narcissist. She has this insatiable need for attention—always posting photos of herself in a bikini, humble-bragging about something.
Manipulative and selfish, only she won’t admit it.
She has this way of turning everything around so it’s the other person’s fault. ”
I relayed some of my conversation with Nicole earlier.
“That’s awful,” Lila said. “But I actually understand. My ex was the same. That’s why he couldn’t resist the nubile intern—she showered him with attention.”
“She’s kept Margot from me out of spite. And now she wants to remarry and suddenly needs me to step in. I was so angry earlier I had to keep myself from punching the wall. As my mother said, she sold her daughter back to me.”
“And you don’t know what kinds of issues she’s going to have,” Lila said. “It may take some work, but she’s better off with you.”
“I don’t know if I can fix six years with Nicole. And Margot hates me. Nicole made sure of that.”
“You’ll win her back. You just have to have patience.”
“I’m so out of practice,” I said.
“She’s going to be scared—and hurt that her mother’s sending her away because she found a new man. God, it’s so awful. How could she … never mind. As my therapist says, we can only control how we react, not what others do to us.”
“I don’t even have a place for her to live,” I said. “My house is about to go through a major renovation.”
“We’ll find you a rental.”
“That’s what my mom said.”
“Again, she’s a smart woman.”
I pulled her into a hug, holding on maybe a little too tight. She didn’t pull away.
“Thank you for not freaking out,” I whispered into her hair.
“That happens to be my specialty.”
We sat on that beach until the sun set, talking.
I shared more memories of the years I’d had with Margot.
“She was my constant companion. Nicole was always out, so the baby stayed with me. I even took her to the restaurant with me. The staff loved her. She practically grew up in the kitchen. She was only two when she ate paté de campagne for the first time.”
“A wonderful choice. Very easy to eat with your hands.”
I laughed, then looked out to sea, watching the waves crash to shore, leaving tiny bubbles in the sand.
“When I first met her, I thought it was fate. We’d grown up not forty minutes apart and met halfway across the world—it felt like something meant to be.
Then she got pregnant, and everything sped up.
Marriage seemed like the right thing to do.
” I paused, following the line of foam as it curled back into the tide.
“At first, she liked the idea of being married to a sommelier, of living in France, of the romance of it all. But that didn’t last. Soon she started complaining that I worked nights, that our lives revolved around the restaurant schedule.
She was young, beautiful, restless. She wanted parties, glamour, Paris—or so she said.
But I didn’t want to separate and lose my daughter, so I just put up with it.
When Margot was four, Nicole said she wanted to go home to California for a few months.
I thought she meant for a visit—to see her family.
She promised it was temporary. But she never came back.
Just filed for custody in California and refused to return to France.
By the time I realized what she’d done, it was too late. ”
“Oh, Vance, I’m so sorry.”
“It was a very dark period.”
“Does this change things? Between you and me?” I asked. “Do you want to avoid all the drama?”
“What kind of person does that? Only wants a man who has zero drama? Anyway, I’ll get to see firsthand a father who wants nothing more than to be with his daughter.
I’ve never seen that—not for Mia. So I get it—the rage you feel.
We don’t want anyone to hurt our daughters, especially not one of their parents. Sadly, we have that in common.”
When we finally packed up the picnic, the moon was rising over the ocean. We walked back to the parking lot, her hand in mine, both of us quiet. When we reached the car, she turned to me. “I think you should kiss me. After what we just shared, I think it’s time.”
My heart stuttered. “You think so?”
“Do you want to?” She stepped closer, her hand still in mine.
I reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you walk into The Pelican.”
“Same. But I have to warn you, I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time,” Lila said.
“Me either. But I hear it’s like riding a bike.”
I cupped her face in both hands, giving her one more moment to change her mind. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she rose up on her toes, closing the distance between us.
Her lips were warm and tasted faintly of rosé.
I felt her hands come up to rest against my chest, her fingers curling into my shirt.
The kiss deepened, became less careful, more certain.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us slightly breathless, we smiled at each other—a little dazed, a little in awe.
“That was nice,” she whispered.
“I’d say so.”
She laughed softly. “I guess we still remember how to kiss someone.”
“We should probably do it again. Just to make sure.”
“Just to make sure,” she agreed, smiling against my lips as I kissed her again.
I drove her home slowly, taking the long way through town just to steal a few more minutes. When I pulled into her driveway, the porch light was on, and I could see movement through the front window.
“She’s definitely watching for us,” Lila said, laughing.
“Should I walk you to the door?”
“You’d better. She’ll never forgive me if you don’t.”
I came around to open her car door, and, before we’d made it halfway up the path, the front door flew open.
Mia stood there in her pajamas, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.
“Hey, guys. You’re home so early,” Mia said.
“It’s not that early.” Lila’s cheeks flushed pink.
“Did you have fun?” Mia bounced on her toes, looking between us.
“We had a nice time,” Lila said, trying for dignified and failing completely.
Mia’s eyes narrowed, zeroing in on her mother’s face—then mine. A slow smile spread across her lips. “You kissed. I can tell.”
“Mia, please,” Lila said, flushing even pinker.
“You totally kissed. Mom, you have that look.”
“What look?” Lila asked, clearly mortified.
“The kissed look.” Mia turned to me, absolutely delighted. “She does, doesn’t she?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I plead the fifth.”
“I am a genius.” Mia pumped her fist. “I knew you guys were right for each other.”
“Okay, time for bed,” Lila said, trying to herd her daughter inside.
But Mia stood her ground, looking at me with those wise brown eyes. “You should come to dinner. Oh my gosh, I have a great idea—we should all go out to celebrate … your big thing.”
“Sounds intriguing,” I said.
“It’s just a work thing,” Lila said quickly. “The thing I’m not supposed to talk about yet.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing about it when you can,” I said.
“You’re not going to believe it when she tells you,” Mia said. “It’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to us.”
“I’ll do my best to keep up.”
“Good. Now you can kiss her goodnight. I’ll give you privacy.” Mia started to go inside, then turned back. “But not too long. She has work tomorrow.”
She disappeared into the house, leaving us alone on the porch.
Lila covered her face with her hands. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. She’s perfect.” I gently pulled her hands away from her face.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I kissed her softly, briefly, aware of Mia probably watching from behind the curtains. “Text me later? To say goodnight?”
“If you insist.” She gave me another quick peck before going inside.
I waited until she waved through the window. Then I drove home, my phone buzzing before I’d even turned off her street.
Lila
Mia says to tell you that you’re awesome and she can’t wait to see you again.
Vance
Tell her I’m looking forward to it. Whatever it is. As long as it’s with you.
Lila
See you tomorrow, maybe? In the evening? I’m booked earlier.
Vance
Any time. Can’t wait.
I sat in my car outside Dorian’s bookstore, looking at that text, marveling at how fast everything was shifting. Tonight, I’d shared the most intimate parts of myself with a woman I felt a profound connection to. Tomorrow, I would begin the process of getting my daughter back.
I just hoped these two wonderful things in my life could find a way to coexist—and maybe even become something better.