Page 173 of Morally Black Betrothal

“Unless you can prove fraud or misrepresentation on their part—which you can’t because you initiated the deal—there’s no legal avenue to undo this. I’m sorry, Bren.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of my decisions crushing down on me. Three days had passed since I’d told Simone I loved her, and by some miracle, she’d said it back. Three days since she’d looked at me like I wasn’t The Black Prince but a real one, up on his steed and everything.

I’d spent nearly all that time trying to find some way,anyway to undo the horrible deal I’d made to free her niece. Set P.I.s on Huntington’s tail. Set Liam to dismantle the contract. Called Huntington every hour on the hour. Threw as much money at the situation without giving him what he’d asked for to begin with: a piece of my company.

Nothing worked.

“Find other ways to leverage the fucker,” I commanded as I toyed with a paperweight sparrow Simone had bought for me at a curio shop. “Buy up Huntington stock. Look for vulnerabilities in their other projects. Do whatever you can to make that fucker’s life hell so he’s either forced to run to his daddy or sell the farm back to me.”

“Brendan, I really don’t think?—”

“Just do it.”

I hung up, shoved my chair back from the desk, and paced to the windows that offered a view down to Fenway. The Sox were playing the Orioles today, and for a moment, I imagined what it might be like to spend a lazy afternoon at the ballpark with Simone instead of being shut up in an office. Maybe with a kid or two munching on hot dogs while we hooted with the crowd, sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” and heckled the pitcher.

Far too quickly, this imaginary family and I were doing other things around town too. Riding those stupid swan boats in the Common. Watching one of the kids play soccer. I’d probably tell a sixteen-year-old ref to go fuck himself if he ever made a bad call on my offspring, but everyone would know it was out of love.

These fantasies were getting out of hand. But I could not seem to make them stop, not since admitting one of them out loud while I was literallyinsidethe woman I wanted them with.

Were those the kinds of things that people who didn’t constantly work did on the weekends and wear suits on a fuckin’ Saturday? Was that how they spent their free days when they weren’t tied up with guilt and deals and all the other shit in my life that seemed more meaningless with every passing day?

The sound of laughter drifted from the kitchen down the hall, and I followed it like a dog hunting its bone. Simone stood at the marble island, flour dusting her forearms as she worked doughwith practiced efficiency. She was preparing for this week’s pop-up while she chatted with Kylie on her iPad.

Selena had opted to take her daughter back to Simone’s apartment in JP, and while I couldn’t say I was particularly sad to see her leave my apartment, I could tell Simone was worried about them. She called in constantly, mainly to check on Kylie and make sure Selena was doing the basic things a parent should do to care for her daughter, like making her breakfast or giving her a bath.

The little girl squealed when Simone blew a strawberry into the camera and pretended her arm was an elephant’s trunk.

“And that’s why elephantsneverforget!” she trumpeted before falling apart with laughter herself.

She was wearing one of my dress shirts over leggings, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hair up in a messy bun, and a spatula in her hand. She’d never looked more beautiful. Or more trusting.

Fuck.

Simone caught sight of me walking in and offered a grin that seemed to light up the room by a hundred extra watts. “Ky? I gotta go, babe, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can do a sleepover soon, too.”

“Okay, Aunt Simone! Love you!”

“Love you too, peanut.” She ended the call and looked back at me with another smile.

“Kid sounds all right.” I peered at the mess of dough and other spices on the counter. “What are you making?”

“Cinnamon rolls. And she does, doesn’t she? I got Selena my old job at Fez, and she’s letting me enroll Kylie in preschool and bring back Ginny at night.” With a contented sigh, she went back to rolling out her dough. “I guess I feel…I don’t know, hopeful, maybe? Enough that I called off the custody lawyer.”

“You think Selena has her shit together after just a few days?”

“Well, no,” Simone admitted as she started sprinkling a mixture of cinnamon sugar onto the dough. “But she’s smart enough to let me get it together for her. And Kylie…well, Kylie loves her mom. I feel like I have to give Sel one more chance, if just for that reason.” She turned her face toward me, beckoning for a kiss. “Let’s not be pessimistic right now. I’m in too good a mood. And these cinnamon rolls are going to be amazing.”

I took my time with the kiss, enjoying the flavors of cinnamon, sugar, and a little bit of lemon on her tongue before releasing her to her work while I watched from a stool at the counter. The image of her splayed out on the kitchen counter flashed through my mind, my head between her legs.

Part of me wanted to indulge right now. Enjoy this beautiful fantasy with her one last time before the truth arrived and ruined it for good.

But the problem with falling in love with an angel was that you grew a conscience.

And mine was done waiting.

Just get it over with.

“You okay?” Simone asked as she hand-rolled her dough into a long tube. “You look like someone just died.”