Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
She bobs her head up and down. “At least that answers something I’ve been wondering about for the last five years. You really don’t have a heart in that black hole you call a chest.”
Tatiana and Noah return, followed by Reino just as the waitress arrives with our drink orders. Ignoring the daggers Jasper shoots at me with her eyes, I stand up out of courtesy until Tatiana has taken her seat.
Noah’s T-shirt is plastered to his back, and his hair is damp with sweat. He gulps down half a glass of water, clearly thirsty after all the jumping and climbing.
Reino takes his place next to Jasper. An awkward silence falls over the table as the waitress returns with Jasper and Noah’s food. Tatiana glances between us, no doubt picking up on the hostile atmosphere.
Noah holds up his palms. “Look, Dante. I already washed my hands.” He dives in straight away, going for the burger first. “I’m allowed to eat with my hands.”
Reino snatches a French fry from Jasper’s plate.
She cuts him a look. “I don’t like other people’s fingers in my food.”
Grinning, he steals another couple of fries.
She rolls her eyes and pushes the plate toward him. “You may as well have it now.”
“Hey.” He nudges her shoulder. “Relax, firecracker. I also washed my hands. Ask Noah.”
“Uh-huh.” Noah nods and says around a mouthful of food, “He did, Jazz. I was in the bathroom with Mommy, but I saw him through the door of the men’s bathroom. He used soap too.”
“Noah.” Tatiana admonishes him gently. “What did I say about speaking with food in your mouth?”
He gives her a mischievous smile, swallows, and, licking some ketchup from the corner of his mouth, says, “Sorry.”
“Come on, firecracker.” Reino puts the plate back in front of Jasper. “Eat your food.” He motions at her glass. “You can’t live on Diet Coke alone. It’s not healthy.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps.
The waitress brings the rest of the orders and asks if we’d like anything else to drink. Reino doesn’t drink on duty. He sticks to water. As I’d like to remain vigilant, so do I. Jasper remains stubbornly quiet, and Tatiana declines the glass of wine I suggest.
We finish dinner in a strained silence. The only one who seemed to have enjoyed his meal is Noah. He climbs onto his knees on the bench when his dessert arrives. The waffle is served with a dollop of cream on the side and an array of toppings that comes in small bowls, allowing him to make his own creation, a task he takes to heart. He adds a little of everything, including chocolate chips, jellybeans, and colorful sprinkles, before presenting us with his artwork.
I snap a photo with my phone of a proud Noah showing off his dessert. My mind goes to the photos that were on the wall in Tatiana’s rented house, which are now safely in my briefcase. The past is what it is. I can’t turn back time and change it. But I’ll be damned if I don’t fill my walls with all the moments of his life yet to come—school portraits that map the years from gap-tooth smiles to awkward young adulthood, holidays, graduation, a wedding, and maybe, if I’m lucky, grandchildren. I nurse that idea like a man nurses a drink he doesn’t want to finish too quickly, allowing the sweetness of the promise to ease the loss the first four years of absence had eaten into my heart.
We’re back at the hotel early. I check that my men are in place and lock the elevator and door. Tatiana slips away with Noah to run him a bath.
Once more, I find myself facing off with Jasper in the lounge. “Do I need to lock you in?”
She crosses her arms. “Where am I going to go? You have men at every exit.”
“I’m glad you understand. In that case, I’ll say goodnight.”
She stares after me, her eyes burning holes into the back of my head as I walk to the study. When I return after locking the key card and my phone in the safe, Jasper is gone, and her bedroom door is closed.
I go to the bathroom between Jasper and Noah’s rooms. Splashing and Noah’s laughter come from the other side of the door.
I knock before entering. Noah sits in the tub in water up to his waist with shampoo bubbles in his hair and his curls fashioned into a spike on his head. He’s looking at his reflection in a hand mirror that Tatiana is holding from where she’s kneeling on the rug next to the tub.
They look up when I approach. The smile vanishes from Tatiana’s face. Tension replaces her carefree manner.
“Look, Dante.” Noah laughs. “I’m a woodpecker.”
I stop next to the bath. “A woodpecker, huh?” I tilt my head. “You look more like a dinosaur to me.”