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Tate: I could think of 7.9 billion people better equipped to give you sound advice.
Dylan: LEGAL advice.
Tate: Shoot.
Dylan: My ex Tucker is in town. We are about to work with each other. He wants to see our mutual kid even though he’s never met her before and walked out on us. Does he have the right to see her?
Tate had passed the bar in New York sometime in the previous decade. He wasn’t a practicing lawyer, but he seemed like the kind of man to know everything about anything.
Tate: That’s a complicated question. Did he ever abuse you? Hit you? Hurt you?
I thought about my bruised wrist. I was pretty sure if I went to the police, Tucker would be able to convince them it was all a big, fat mistake. That he was swept up, excited to see me, the mother of his child, and wanted to talk. And maybe it was thetruth. Emotions had been running high. He’d never physically hurt me before.
Dylan: No.
Tate: Does he have a criminal record?
Dylan: Not that I know of.
Tate: The short answer is no, there’s nothing you can do about it. He’ll end up seeing your kid, even if supervised. The long answer is that you might be able to tire him out by making him retain legal counsel and jump through hoops. But it’ll cost you time, money, and resources.
I set my phone down on the couch and closed my eyes. I was in a terrible spot. Did I want to give my daughter the chance to connect with her biological father and trust that this might bloom into a healthy relationship, or was I putting her in harm’s way with a man who’d violently grabbed me and left me in the worst possible circumstances?
Tate: Where’s my thank you?
Dylan: In the same place I keep the fucks I give about what you think about me. Good luck finding it.
DYLAN
The next day, I had a call with Cal and Kieran on FaceTime while Grav went down for her midday nap. They were both sitting in a cute, eclectic coffee shop in Chelsea, sipping macchiatos from tiny hand-painted cups in the lush back garden to avoid the paparazzi.
“I’m going to murder you.” I pointed at Kieran. My actual rage was raging. Apparently, it was a thing. “Then I’m going to fertilize my ancestors’ soil with your blood.”
“I see you’ve spent a good amount of time giving it some thought.” Kieran held up his hands, appearing genuinely sorry. “Look, I promised him I’d try to warm you up to the idea of seeing him. He’s been dying to reconnect. Like, to a scary degree.”
“Rewind,” I whisper-shouted. “How did you even meet him? How did it get to a point where you guys were talking?”
“Last time I was in New York, I walked into the Alchemist, and there he was. At first, I gave him a piece of my mind, berated him and made a scene about what he’d done to you. But he never fought back. He kind of just…took it. Then he fell all over himself, begging me to talk to you about giving him another chance with his kid.”
“For real?” I gasped.
“Dude, he was a mess. When I say he begged, I mean he begged.” Kieran ran his hand over his trimmed stubble, frowning slightly. “I mean, he also asked me to sign his ball cap and then went on to sell it on eBay for four figures, but hey, that’s just money on the floor. Point is he seems genuine, Dyl.”
“What are we talking about?” Cal looked between us, her face a mask of confusion. She was wearing an adorable nineties getup of a white tee and a black spaghetti top. “Who wants a chance with who? And are you telling me I can make a thousand bucks for your signature? Shit. That’s a start-up right there.”
“Tucker.” Kieran brushed invisible lint from his tailored Montauk polo, looking like a trillion bucks and some change. I really could kill him right now. Quite happily too, for that cunning setup. “Tucker works at the Alchemist, where Dyl is temping for a while,” he provided.
Cal sucked in a breath, nails digging into Kieran’s arm. “You’re kidding me. You saw Tucker?” she squeaked at me. “Like, last night?”
“Thanks to our buddy over there.” I tossed a hand Kieran’s way, masking my dread and fear over this development. My wrist still hurt. “Yeah, there was a big reunion. Sorry, Dot, can you please punch Kieran for me? I’m not done being pissed at him.”
“Sure.” Cal drove a fist into Kieran’s bicep, putting all her strength into it.
He groaned, rubbing at his arm. “You’re lucky you didn’t aim for my legs. They’re insured for twenty million dollars.”
“I’ll aim for the balls when we meet,” I announced. “You overstepped in a big way.”
“I knew you’d never consider meeting him, and…well, it isn’t just about you, Dyl,” Kieran said defensively. “Though I agree the way I went about it was completely shit, and I take full responsibility for the messy outcome.”