Page 12 of Perfect Composition

Both women groan, though it’s Amie who says, “I don’t know how you do it, Paige.”

“Do what?”

“It’s hard enough living in the town you grew up in—”

“That is named for her family—don’t forget that,” Dawn interjects.

“—but then you raised your daughter there. Plus you dance attendance on your family whenever they call.”

“I don’t do that,” I protest.

“I beg to differ,” Dawn counters. “How about when Ethan needed help designing his store?” She mentions my brother’s IT business in downtown Kensington.

I flick my hand to the side. “That’s just helping family. Either of you would have done the same.”

“That may be true, but you sure as hell wouldn’t have caught me dead shoveling horse manure while my oldest brother went on a ten-day cruise,” Amie counters.

“That was a good learning opportunity for Austyn,” I try to reason.

Both women crack up. “Yeah, on what? How to become a smart-ass when Uncle Jess comes home with a T-shirt as a thank-you gift?” Dawn manages through her giggles.

I give in, a smile spreading across my face. I’m not the least bit upset. When you work closely with two women you respect and admire day after day, you learn a great deal about one another. And aside from one major secret which I’ve withheld from everyone except my family for the last nineteen years, they know everything there is to know about me. “God, I thought Jess was going to collapse when Austyn informed him that she’d have had more use for a fake ukulele.”

“So what does Daddy K have you coming over for? Does he need a party for thirty to be arranged?” Amie teases with a smile.

I take no offense since both women adore my father. His gruff exterior hides a heart of pure gold. And despite the fact I’m the reason he’s been a bachelor the last thirty-six years, he’s been a rock to us all. “I’m flying to see Austyn in New York this weekend,” I remind them both.

“Ooh! That’s right!” Amie claps her hands together excitedly.

“Why?” Suspicion is rife in Dawn’s voice.

It causes me to bristle a bit. “Because she has a big gig at some famous nightclub, and she’s working herself up. So, the last time we talked, I offered to fly up if it would make her feel better. She jumped on it.”

“Oh. Congratulations to her. That’s great news.” But there’s something in Dawn’s voice I can’t quite put a finger on.

Ignoring it for the moment, I go on. “I suspect my father wants to worry about my welfare, Austyn’s welfare, and remind me to convince her this DJ’ing nonsense is a fad. Of course, I’ll spend the better part of the evening reminding him that I’m thirty-six and well able to take care of myself. Austyn is older than I was when I had her, so I’m certain she knew what she was doing when she made the decision to cash out her college fund to follow her dreams. And when all else fails, I’ll remind him that just like he was there for me, I’ll be there for her if things don’t work out.”

I hand over my tablet to Amie, who immediately plugs it in to transfer the data from the Espositos into our main database. “And with that, friends, I’m off. Rush hour should have dissipated enough for me to make the drive to Kensington in just under forty-five minutes.”

Shrugging off my white coat, I start down the hall toward my office when Dawn calls out from behind me, “Paige?”

“Yes?”

“Has she asked recently?” Her face is filled with complicated concern.

I brace my hand against the doorjamb to my office. “Austyn? About her father?”

“Yes. I mean, I don’t mean to pry. It’s just, I’m concerned. For you.”

In the years since Austyn’s father crushed my heart, leaving me to rear his child alone, I’ve confided in no one but my family the truth about his identity. I have only told Dawn—who’s been my best friend since I was able to go to college—that when Austyn asked as a teenager, I promised her I’d tell her when she asked me once she was of legal age.

I had my reasons. I still do.

But since she turned eighteen, she hasn’t brought up the topic once. Part of me lives in a hyperstatic fear of the time she will. But despite the number of times I’ve practiced the words, I’m still not ready.

After all, how many people can lay claim to the fact their father is a rock god?

I push away from the door. “Trust me, I suspect you’ll know when I finally tell her.” Dawn frowns in confusion, so I clarify, “The shrieking. Probably at me, but I suspect it will be loud.”