Chapter 5
LIZA
Istood in the middle of my assigned suite because apparently that was what you called it when your temporary bedroom was larger than my entire apartment. I tried to process what my life had become in the span of forty-eight hours.
I meandered through the space, going to the closet first. It was massive.
It looked like a small boutique store. Built-in shelving, a center island with drawers, lighting that automatically turned on when you entered.
There was a full-length mirror and a small, upholstered bench, presumably for the exhausting task of putting on shoes.
“Holy shit,” I murmured to no one.
I returned to the room to grab my suitcases and started to unpack my new wardrobe.
Well, it wasn’t exactly an entire wardrobe.
When a simple day dress cost three hundred bucks, it cut into the budget.
I brought my stuff as well, for times I would just be lounging around the house.
I didn’t think I would be expected to be “on” every minute of every day.
I walked to the wall of windows that were partly shielded by open blinds. I wanted to see the view better.
“How in the hell am I supposed to open these all the way?”
Who would have a view like this blocked by stupid blinds? I looked around and then spotted a remote control. I had seen these things in the movies.
I pushed a button, and sure enough, the blinds started to rise.
Through the windows, I could see the Atlantic Ocean stretching to the horizon, dotted with sailboats bobbing up and down on the water.
The estate had its own private dock, multiple boathouses, and what looked like a small beach.
The property seemed to go on forever, rolling lawns and carefully maintained gardens leading down to the water.
I could see a pool that looked like it was inside a greenhouse. But there wasn’t a roof? No, it was retracted. There was a hot tub and a firepit with Adirondack chairs around it.
It all looked very peaceful and park-like, but from the front entrance, she knew the place was surrounded by a huge fence and actual security guards.
Who lived like this? Who needed this level of protection from the outside world?
Was Darek Sullivan a boat builder or a drug dealer? Because this felt excessive for someone who just made yachts, even really nice yachts.
But no, it was apparently just how billionaires lived. Cut off from regular people like kings in their castles, surrounded by walls and guards and enough space that they never had to acknowledge the existence of anyone who couldn’t afford entry into their world.
I didn’t like it.
I’d never been a fan of rich people in general.
It was a bias I had developed honestly after years of watching wealth inequality destroy communities.
After seeing funding for scientific research dry up while billionaires built vanity projects and bought sports teams. What was the point of having all that money if you weren’t going to make the world a better place?
If you weren’t going to use your resources to help people who were struggling, to fund research that mattered, to do literally anything besides accumulate more wealth and build bigger houses?
Darek seemed like a decent guy, sure. He clearly loved his daughter, and the way he’d talked about the custody battle had been genuine, raw with protective fury.
But he also lived in a twelve-thousand-square-foot house with two people and saw nothing wrong with that.
It was all so he could exist in a bubble of comfort and privilege.
I was being judgmental. I knew I was being judgmental. The man was paying me one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to help him keep custody of his daughter. I had no business critiquing his lifestyle choices or his net worth. He had money. Some people did and some didn’t. It was that simple.
But still. This felt obscene.
I had been unpacking for an hour, trying to make the space feel less like a luxury hotel and more like somewhere I might actually stay for a month.
I set up my laptop on the desk, arranged my research notes in neat stacks, plugged in my external hard drive.
At least I could get some work done here.
The ridiculous high-speed internet would let me download research papers in seconds instead of the glacial pace I was used to.
I was plugging my phone charger in by the bed when I felt it. That prickling sensation on the back of my neck that meant someone was watching me.
Oh, here we go, I thought. Now that the spider has me in his web, he’s going to turn into a pervert.
It was exactly what I had been worried about.
The moment the true nature of the arrangement was revealed.
When I was spinning out last night, I pictured Darek showing up at my door with some excuse about needing to “discuss the terms” while wearing a bathrobe or holding a bottle of wine or doing whatever it is that rich men do when they decide contracts are just suggestions.
He’d flash me and expect me to fall to my knees—literally.
No amount of money was worth that.
I turned toward the open doorway, preparing to shut down whatever inappropriate advance was coming. But it wasn’t Darek.
It was a little girl.
She peeked around the doorframe, just her face visible, with dark hair that looked like it had been recently brushed but was already starting to escape from its ponytail. Big eyes—the same unsettling blue as her father’s—staring at me with an expression that was equal parts curious and wary.
Daisie.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound friendly and nonthreatening. “Hi there.”
She disappeared. Just vanished back around the doorframe like I’d said something terrifying instead of a simple greeting. I heard the sound of small feet running down the hallway, getting fainter.
“Great first impression,” I muttered.
Really nailed that one. Scared off a seven-year-old with a single word. I was going to be a super great fake-almost-stepmom.
I would be the first to admit I didn’t have much experience with kids.
Early in my educational journey, I’d had the chance to work at an undersea aquarium.
All the kids. So many kids. Such awful little shits.
They tapped the glass when they weren’t supposed to.
They licked the glass and asked stupid questions.
I didn’t dislike kids. But they were foreign to me.
I stood there for a moment, wondering if I should follow her or wait or just pretend it hadn’t happened. Before I could decide, I heard footsteps again. Adult footsteps, accompanied by the lighter patter of child-sized feet.
Darek appeared in my doorway, looking slightly apologetic, with Daisie half-hidden behind his legs like he was a human shield.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “Daisie wanted to see who was staying in this room. She’s a little shy around new people.”
“That’s okay.” I smiled at the space where I could see part of Daisie’s face. “I’m shy around new people too.”
Daisie peeked out a bit more but didn’t say anything.
“Daisie, this is Liza,” Darek said, his voice gentle in a way I hadn’t heard before. “She’s going to be staying with us for a little while. Liza, this is my daughter, Daisie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Daisie.”
She ducked back behind her father’s legs.
Darek looked down at her, then back at me with an expression that was somewhere between amused and concerned. “Would you like a tour of the house? Daisie’s an excellent tour guide. Aren’t you, kiddo?”
Daisie nodded but still didn’t speak.
“I’d love a tour,” I said. “This place is huge and I’m pretty sure I might get lost.”
That got a tiny smile from Daisie. Just a flicker, but it was there.
We walked through the house, Darek pointing out various rooms while Daisie stayed mostly hidden behind him.
The kitchen was enormous, with professional-grade appliances and countertops made from some kind of black stone.
It was all very dramatic with the stainless appliances.
The living room had views that would’ve made a real estate agent weep with joy.
I should say one of the three living rooms. Which technically they weren’t all living rooms. Sitting room. Family room. Den.
What-the-hell-ever.
There was a media room with a screen the size of a small car.
A library with actual built-in bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling, filled with books that looked like they’d been curated by an interior designer rather than actually read.
A home gym that had equipment I didn’t recognize.
A mudroom bigger than my bedroom in New York.
“And this is the deck,” Darek said, sliding open a glass door that led outside.
The breeze hit me immediately, carrying the smell of the ocean.
It was warm enough to be comfortable but not hot.
I walked to the railing and looked out at the water.
It was stunning. The waves rolled in with a gentle rhythm.
I could see birds diving for fish in the distance.
And the sound—that was one thing I missed about Garibaldi. The sound of the ocean.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“We spend a lot of time out here,” Darek said, coming to stand beside me. I noticed Daisie had moved slightly out from behind his legs, drawn by the view even though she was still wary of me. “Daisie especially loves it. Don’t you?”
Daisie nodded. “I like watching the boats.”
“Me too,” I said. “And the birds. Do you ever see whales from here?”
She shook her head, but there was interest in her eyes now. She’d moved out from behind Darek entirely, standing at the railing a few feet away from me.
“Sometimes you can,” I told her. “They migrate along this coast. They’re just passing through, but if you’re lucky and you know when to look, you might spot them.”
“Really?” Her voice was filled with curiosity.
“Really. I study whales for my job.”
“That’s so cool,” Daisie breathed, and just like that, some invisible barrier between us cracked.
We finished the tour and eventually ended up back near my suite. Daisie was still keeping her distance, but she wasn’t hiding anymore. Progress.
“I’ll let you get settled,” Darek said. “Dinner is at six. Nothing fancy, just pasta and salad. Does that work for you?”
“That works perfectly.”
“Okay. We’ll see you then.” He put his hand on Daisie’s shoulder, gently steering her away. “Come on, kid. Let’s let Liza have some time to herself.”
They started down the hallway, and I stood there watching them go and felt a sudden surge of panic.
What was I doing? How was I supposed to do this?
I didn’t know how to talk to kids or what they found interesting or how to connect with someone who was dealing with abandonment issues that I couldn’t begin to understand.
“Wait,” I called out.
I hurried into my room and grabbed the stuffed whale. When I came back out, they were both watching me with curious expressions.
I held out the whale to Daisie, suddenly feeling foolish. “I got you this. I saw it when I was shopping and I thought you might like it. Since your dad builds boats and you like watching the water. It’s a humpback whale. They’re one of my favorites.”
Daisie stared at the stuffed animal, then slowly reached out and took it from my hands.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and then she smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
She hugged the whale to her chest.
Maybe this month wouldn’t be a total disaster.
“That was thoughtful,” Darek said. “Thank you.”
“I like whales,” I said, feeling the need to explain. “It seemed appropriate.”
“Let’s go,” Darek said.
“See you at dinner,” I replied.
“See you at dinner,” Daisie echoed, and then she and Darek headed down the hallway again.
I went back into my suite and closed the door, leaning against it.
One day down. Twenty-nine to go.
I could do this. I had to do this.