Chapter 6
Gabriel
I drop Rosie off in my office. Sally brings her art supplies. She’s supposed to be the one watching Rosie so I can actually get some work done.
"Could you bring us some water? With ice?" I say to Sally, glancing at Rosie, who’s already arranging her colored pencils neatly on the coffee table. Water should be fine. I nod at Sally, who still looks rattled, and she leaves. I sit down across from Rosie, ready to have a serious talk with her.
"Am I in trouble now?" she asks, peeking up at me. I rest my hand on her head and smile.
"Sometimes that’s necessary." Even if it isn’t easy. "Imagine if you’d run in front of a car."
"I know I’m not allowed to cross the street."
"There are a lot of bad people out there, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Because I love you very much. Do you understand?"
"Of course." She looks back down at her pencils and starts coloring a printed picture of a fairy. I run a hand through her long brown hair once more, then lean back.
"Sally was really worried too. Thankfully, Kim saw you outside. I’m glad you came back with her."
"I like her."
"Because she’d let you drink hot chocolate?"
"She’s nice. Not just because of the hot chocolate. She also has diabetes. And she thinks being a grown-up is stupid. That’s really cool."
Is that so? I can’t help smiling.
"Yeah, being an adult isn’t easy, that’s true.
" I sit down on the floor next to her, trying to catch her eye. Not easy when she keeps staring stubbornly at her drawing. "I’ll try to call your mom. Of course I won’t tell her you tried to run away.
That’ll stay our little secret, okay?" She nods but looks at me uncertainly. "And then I’ll ask if the sweetener’s okay. "
"But she doesn’t even know about that…" For a four-year-old, she picks up way too much.
"I still have to ask her. She’s your mom, after all."
"She hasn’t called in a whole week…"
Yeah. Ever since she dropped Rosie at my apartment, she’s been gone. Usually, she disappears for a day or two, but a whole week? Wherever my sister is, apparently checking on her daughter isn’t a priority.
"She’s busy. She does all this because she loves you. You understand that, right?"
I don’t like lying to her, but what else can I do? Tell her the truth? That would crush her.
"I heard her on the phone once. She said I’m very valuable to her…"
Well, at least that gives me something to work with.
"Yes, because you’re like treasure to her. The most valuable thing in her life."
"Because you give her money when I’m with her. And money’s the most important thing. As long as I’m with her, she gets money." She looks at me uncertainly.
Great. That blows up everything I just tried to explain.
"You must have misunderstood." I scoot closer, resting a hand on her back as I see tears welling in her eyes. She keeps her focus on the picture, carefully coloring the fairy’s dress. "Money isn’t the most important thing in life. It’s…"
"Self-love. Health. Family. Friends," she suddenly says.
"Yes. Exactly."
Where on earth did that come from? I’m surprised but relieved she gets it.
"Kim told me that." Rosie smiles. "You need a lady like her."
"I do need a lady who gets that, that’s true."
"She’s nice and pretty. And I like her. That’s three important points you should think about."
So, someone’s been eavesdropping on my phone calls. That little phrase about “important points to consider” is exactly what I always say.
"I’ll pick my own girlfriend," I tell her.
"That hasn’t worked out so well so far."
Ice cold, this kid.
Rosie pats my hand. "Sometimes you need help. And I’m happy to help you."
Well, what am I supposed to say to that? She makes me smile.
"Where would I be without you?" I laugh quietly, stroke her head, and stand.
"Probably married to Nadine by now." Rosie scrunches up her nose. "She was really dumb."
"Yeah, she was." I walk over to my desk and pick up my phone. Catherine’s chat is still at the top. I scroll through the last messages—nothing but one-sided diary entries from me: what Rosie did, what she ate, how much she misses her mom. In between, I kept begging her to at least check in so I wouldn’t have to call the police.
That used to get some kind of reply. But now? Nothing.
The fact that she dropped Rosie off before disappearing makes it obvious she planned to go somewhere. But where? The last few times she vanished, it was the same pattern: booze, drugs, parties with random guys.
The kid can never find out. She adores her mom, even though Catherine isn’t really a mother at all. She just gave birth to Rosie—nothing more.
I try calling again. Thirty-one tries so far. On the thirty-second, still voicemail. At the end of my rope, I type:
"If I haven’t heard from you by tonight, 8 sharp, I’ll call the police."
And: "I wanted to give Rosie hot chocolate with sweetener. Hope that’s okay. We’re keeping an eye on her blood sugar. By the way, your daughter is doing fine—in case you even care."
After this long gone, I think I’m allowed a sharp tone.
Just as I’m about to put my phone away, a message finally pops up: "Chill."
That’s it?
"Where the hell are you?" I text back.
"Birmingham. Coming back on the weekend. Will be in touch later."
That’s it? She’s in Birmingham, might swing by London sometime over the weekend… and then what? Take Rosie back? Just breeze through? She’s once again giving me nothing—no info on how to plan for Rosie, nothing I can rely on.
I try calling again, and she actually rejects the call.
"When on the weekend? Which day? What time? Are you picking Rosie up? When will you bring her back?" I fire off.
"Don’t know yet. Chill!"
I sink into my desk chair and shake my head.
What now? Things with her have gotten worse these last few months.
She barely takes care of Rosie, and the kid suffers by seeing her mother so rarely.
More and more, I feel like her father—except I’m still at the mercy of her mother’s moods.
She has sole custody, after all. The father’s unknown. At least I don’t have to deal with him.
When I glance up, Rosie is watching me. The second I catch her eye, she ducks back into her drawing.
"You can have hot chocolate," I tell her. She deserves a little joy. I put the phone down and see her face light up.
"I can? Really?" She drops her pen and pumps her fist. "Yes!"
"Under two conditions." Naturally, Rosie doesn't like this at all. She sighs heavily and gives me that exhausted, annoyed look. "One: you promise never to run away again. Two: you stop trying to set me up with Kim. Deal?"
Her eyes sparkle. "You like her, don’t you?"
"No. She’s just an employee. I’m the boss. The boss doesn’t get involved with—"
She simply cuts me off: "You have a crush!" She looks like I just handed her a unicorn plushie. Or an avocado squishy, which is the newest trend with kids currently. Rosie is very into them too.
"No. And if you want that hot chocolate, we’re not talking about this anymore."
She still grins.
"When Kim comes, you’ll go to the grocery store with her, then you’ll drink your hot chocolate and—" Steven calls me. "—and then Kim will go home."
"But you’ll see her again, right?" She’s going to grow into the kind of woman who drives her husband crazy. She doesn’t listen even now.
"Maybe. I need to take this call. Keep coloring, okay?" She sighs, but I turn away and answer. "Hey. Did you finish, or did she not show up at all?" I ask.
"We’re already done. She made it clear she doesn’t want the job."
That, I really wasn’t expecting.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. She thinks you can’t stand her. That’s why she doesn’t want to work for EDL. What happened between you two?"
"Hmm…" How am I supposed to explain when Rosie’s sitting right here, and I don’t exactly want to admit that something almost happened between us?
"Is she your type? She’s pretty. And she’s got fire. Did she flirt with you?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"Hey, you’re talking to me. Be honest. She’s way overqualified for the position I offered. I was already wondering why you sent her my way. Now I meet her and…"
"We just didn’t click. I thought maybe she’d be a better fit for you, but if you two can’t work together either, then it was a complete waste of time."
"All she told me was that she desperately needs money. But she said she’d quit the job with me the second she finds something better. I even offered to pay her more, and she shot that down too."
"So, it’s not really about the money, then?"
"Whatever you did, she doesn’t want to stay because of you. Maybe an apology would help?"
"Hmm. I really wasn’t very nice to her, that’s true."
"To Kim?" Rosie’s eavesdropping again.
"I’ll call you back. Reception’s on the line."
"Alright." Steven hangs up, and I switch to the incoming call.
"This is Bree at reception. Miss Prescott would like to speak with you, sir."
She’s downstairs?
"Sure, put her through." I’m curious now. I notice Rosie watching me closely. "Keep working on your drawing," I tell her. She answers with an eye roll. I turn slightly away.
"Hey, I just wanted to know if you got ahold of Rosie’s mother."
That’s why she’s calling?
"Yeah, but she didn’t answer my question about the sweetener." Why doesn’t she just come up?
"I wasn’t sure if I should come up. Maybe I should just go."
"Wait," I stop her. "I’ll allow it. You can take Rosie to the grocery store."
Immediately, Rosie leaps up and comes running squealing with excitement. "I’ll just monitor her levels and see what happens.”
"Really?" she asks cautiously. I get it—she wanted to clear it with me privately, not in front of Rosie. Very considerate. Quite the opposite of how she handled things earlier.
"Yes, come on up."
"Okay, see you in a minute." She hangs up, and I turn back to Rosie.
"Kim’s coming soon. She’ll take you out." Rosie’s practically bouncing, like she’s going to an amusement park. I take out my wallet and hand her a few ten-pound notes. "You’ll buy ingredients for hot chocolate—and some flowers for Kim. Got it?"
"Flowers?" she asks, surprised.
"As a little thank-you for babysitting." If Kim takes her time, that’ll give me a solid hour to actually get work done.
"But I’m not a baby anymore..." Rosie looks horrified.
"That’s just what it’s called, no matter how old the kid is."
"Then call it kid-sitting," she pouts.
"Alright, next time." I ruffle her hair. "Take good care of the money, okay? It’s a lot. You’ll pay at the register yourself. Whatever’s left, we’ll put in your piggy bank."
"Oh, don’t worry. There definitely won’t be anything left."
What can I even say? My niece is a handful. She counts the bills, nods, and tucks the money into her pocket.
"Come on, let’s head to the elevator." Her little backpack—stuffed with toys—is with Sally, so we stop by her desk. We leave the office so she can empty it. After all, she needs space for the ingredients. The glittery unicorn goes on Sally’s desk, the avocado squishy beside her keyboard, a handful of hair clips, ties, and glitter polish lined up neatly. My sister just buys her everything…
"Okay, I’m ready to go!" Rosie beams, grabs my hand, and marches toward the elevator like she’s on an important mission. The indicator light flashes, and the car arrives just as we do. Perfect timing.
"Don’t forget the flowers," I repeat. "That’s important."
"I’m still young. I don’t forget things," she reminds me. She definitely didn’t get this quick wit from her mom.
"Yeah, I thought so."
"Then why’d you even say it?"
"Um…" I earn a questioning look. "Because sometimes I forget how smart you are," I admit with a grin.
"You forget a lot. That’s because you’re already old."
"I’m thirty," I protest.
"Yeah, that’s really old." Her eyes go wide and look at the elevator. The door opens and Kim appears. Thirty really isn’t old but in her four-year-old eyes, I’m practically a grandpa.
When I look at Kim, my breath catches for a second.
She’s dressed to impress—hair down in soft waves, makeup that highlights her natural beauty, a red blouse under a black blazer, and subtle gold jewelry.
Even the short skirt doesn’t look cheap, just elegant with the pantyhose.
It rather shows off her long legs. She takes a few elegant steps in black heels.
I’m impressed. Very impressed.