Page 8

I shift in my chair and scrub a hand over my jaw, forcing the thought away. It’s done. No changing it now.
Still, sitting here, watching my brothers build the kind of lives I thought I didn’t need, I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’ve been lying to myself. And worse, if Luna’s missing out because of it.
Movement catches my eye and my attention shifts. Amelia glides through the ballroom toward the exit in that black dress, breathtakingly beautiful, and for a moment, my mind goes completely blank. The fabric moves with her like it was created for this purpose, emphasizing curves she usually keeps concealed under casual jeans and T-shirts. Her long dark hair falls in waves past her shoulders and her pale skin is a striking contrast against the dress.
She walks with grace, head high, but there’s a slight uncertainty in the way she smooths down her dress.
“Interesting,” Hayden murmurs beside me.
I drag my focus back to the table. “What’s interesting?”
“You watching Amelia.”
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. The moment I see my ex-wife’s name, tension coils in my shoulders.
Shayla:
Michael and I have to fly to LA unexpectedly. We won’t be home until Thursday, so you’ll have to have Luna until then. I also need you to take her on Friday night because I have a work thing now. I’ll switch and have her next weekend.
The familiar surge of frustration rises. Another change to our agreement. Another disruption to Luna’s schedule. Another fucking game.
“Everything okay?” Hayden asks quietly.
I show him the text.
Like she’s been doing for longer than I care to admit, my ex is changing plans at the last minute. And while I’d happily have my daughter full-time, Luna needs her mother, and she needs her consistently. She needs to know she can count on the routinein place, which isn’t something she’s had since Shayla’s fiancé, Michael, has been on the scene.
I’ve allowed a lot of these plan changes, not wanting to alienate the mother of my child, but I’ve reached the end of my patience.
Hayden looks up from the text. “You need to hire Blair.”
“No.”
“She’s the best family lawyer in New York.”
“She’s a fucking shark, Hayden.”
“Sometimes you need a shark.” He gathers his thoughts in the way he always does before speaking. Hayden isn’t one to speak rashly or without consideration. “This has been going on for too long, Gage. The constant schedule changes, the last-minute demands. Luna needs stability and, I hate to say it, but Brett isn’t cutting it.”
He’s right about all of this. Brett, my attorney, is the best at what he does, but family law isn’t his specialty. However, Blair is the last attorney I’d hire. Mostly because shewouldcause a divide between Shayla and me, but also because she and I can’t be in a room together without arguing over something.
“What about Justine Brown?” She’s one of the best, and she works for Hayden, so I’m not sure why he hasn’t suggested her.
Hayden shakes his head. “She’s just started maternity leave.” His eyes bore into mine. “Hire Blair. Let her fix this for you.”
I stand abruptly, needing space from both the conversation and the knowing look in my brother’s eyes. “I need some air.”
The tension in my shoulders eases slightly as I step out of the ballroom, but my mind keeps circling back to my problems with Shayla.
I’m in the middle of sorting through this mess in my mind when I spy Amelia standing a short distance from me, reading something on her phone. Even from where I am, I can see she’s agitated, and as I move closer, I hear her agitation.
“Unbelievable,” she mutters. “Un-fucking-believable.”
Interesting. I’ve never observed Amelia like this or heard her swear. I find myself moving even closer to her as she starts stabbing at her phone, typing something in an angry rush.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She startles, nearly dropping her phone. “Oh! I—” For a moment, I see her trying to slip her mask back on, but then something in her snaps. “Actually, no. Everything isnotokay. My mother—my absolutely infuriating mother—is texting me about how excited she is that James and I will be attending her anniversary party together next weekend.Together! Which is fascinating news to me since I’m definitely not attending anything with my ex-husband. But apparently, he’s been having lunch with my parents and helping my father with his golf swing—his golf swing!—and now my mother is sending me links to dresses she thinks would be perfect for me to wear to the party with him. As if there’s still an ‘us.’ As if he hasn’t—” She cuts herself off, eyes wide, lips smashed together.