Page 240 of The Havenport Collection

Matteo

A fter a long day, it was nice to just sit back with a book. However, unlike the thrillers I usually favored, tonight we were deep into Anne of Green Gables . Valentina had already been bugging me about planning a summer road trip to Prince Edward Island.

I shut the book, holding firm on my one chapter rule. I sat on the side of Val’s queen-sized bed, wedged between a sequined throw pillow and a giant narwhal stuffed animal.

“Can we go to the aquarium this weekend?” she asked sweetly. Val loved the New England Aquarium in Boston, and it had been months since we had visited.

My face fell. “Not this weekend, sweetie. But soon. I’ve got to work, and things are really busy right now.”

“Okay, I understand.” I could hear the disappointment in her voice, and I felt overcome with guilt. When was the last time I took some time off and had fun with my daughter? Far too long.

“Dad?”

“Yes.”

“I think you should take Eliza on a date.”

I almost choked. “What?”

“Don’t pretend. I know you have a crush on her. You sometimes look at her, and your eyes get all melty and your frown goes away, but only for a minute.”

I feigned confusion. “I don’t know why you think that.

” Shit. I had been working my ass off, trying to hide my attraction to Eliza since we kissed last weekend.

I’d convinced myself nothing more could happen and shut it down.

It was pretty sobering to realize I wasn’t even convincing an eight-year-old.

“Save it, Dad. I know things, okay? You’re like Kristoff. He loves Anna and thinks she’s amazing and can’t hide it.”

Fucking Disney. Ruining generations of girls with their Happily Ever After PR bullshit. And was I that obvious? In my younger days I had been more of the aloof, cool guy. Had I turned desperate in my old age?

“But Kristoff is young. You’re old and have gray hair. But I can tell you like her.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing or screaming. This conversation was going off the rails quickly. I was not going to discuss my dating life, or lack thereof, with my daughter, no matter how many Disney movies she had consumed.

“And I think she’s really cool. And she’s funny and likes Harry Potter and ice cream.” She rambled for a bit, listing many of Eliza’s qualities, which were not lost on me.

Things between Eliza and me were weird, and although she had made her interest in me very clear, I didn’t think she realized what a relationship with an older single dad involved.

“And I feel bad sometimes that you are stuck with me.”

My heart stopped. Fuck. What had I done to make her think that?

I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer. “I am not stuck with you. You are my girl.” I kissed the top of her head and held her close. The last thing on earth I ever wanted my daughter to have were daddy issues. She was my world, and I was perfectly happy with that.

“I love you, Dad. But I don’t mind sharing you with someone. I am going to grow up and become a famous author and robot inventor and singer. So I’ll be too busy to hang out with you, and I don’t want you to be lonely.”

I loved her kid logic.

I cleared my throat. I knew this day was coming; I just assumed it would take a bit longer.

“Is this because…you want a, you know, a woman in your life?” I asked.

Trust me, I would love to outsource the hair braiding, period talks, and teen drama that I knew lay ahead, but I had worked hard to be enough for her. To give her everything.

“No,” she replied sharply, sitting up to face me. “You’re the best dad in the world, and I have everything I need. Between Auntie Nora and Auntie Barb, and Nonna, I have a lot of women who can help me with the girl stuff. And Mom says I can call her whenever I want.”

“I just want to make sure. I don’t want my girl to ever want for anything.”

She gathered my face in her tiny hands and stared at me. “I just want a happy dad.”

I blinked, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to pool in my eyes.

I wasn’t one of those men who was afraid to cry.

I had shed the shackles of my toxic conditioning years ago.

But I didn’t want to break down in front of my kid.

I didn’t want her to see how hard I worked to keep it all together.

How tired I was. And how lonely I felt sometimes.

I hugged her, afraid to speak for fear that I would admit to my eight-year-old that I was barely hanging on. “I love you to the moon and back,” I said into her hair.

“I love you to the edge of the galaxy and back, Dad.”

After some spreadsheets and vacuuming the entire house, I was no closer to figuring out what to do about Eliza. Before I could even sit down, my phone was ringing. Fuck.

“You need to start responding to my emails,” Mandy spat.

“But you always follow up by phone,” I hedged.

“Stop stalling, Matteo. I’m flying to Boston in two weeks. I want to see my daughter, and I want to have a rational, adult conversation with you.”

I held back my laughter. The thought of Mandy doing anything rationally was absurd. “She’s our daughter, Mandy, and forgive me for not jumping at the chance to coparent, seeing as how you’ve avoided any parental responsibilities for the last eight years.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath and knew I’d hurt her. “I know I have been a shit mother in the past. But I’m working on myself and moving forward.”

“I don’t want to get lawyers involved, Matteo,” she continued calmly. “I know you are doing your best, but we both know that child needs her mother. I have been sober for three years, I go to counseling, and I’ve got great job prospects. I deserve a chance.”

My hands clenched. She wasn’t wrong. In fact, I should be thrilled. As much as I disliked Mandy these days, my daughter loved her and deserved to have a relationship with her. But I didn’t trust her and probably never could. I decided to be as kind as I could be, given the circumstances.

“I know Val would love to see you when you come to Boston. And she wants you in her life. But you gave up custody a long time ago for Val’s sake, and she’s doing great. I am totally open to visitation, you know that, but any sort of joint custody arrangement is out of the question.”

“That’s not your call, Matteo. It’s for the courts to decide what’s in her best interest. And stop talking down to me. I’m not stupid.”

I grunted, unable to censor myself.

“And she’s hardly doing great, Matteo. She’s been sick nonstop, her asthma is getting worse, and she spends all her free time hanging around your dingy restaurant. Let’s not pretend you’re father of the year. Is she getting enough attention? Are you able to be there for her when she needs you?”

My vision blurred, and I wanted to punch the wall. How dare she insult my parenting? How dare she imply I’m not doing my absolute best?

I wanted to say nasty, terrible things. I wanted to blame her for Val’s asthma and for being such a fuckup that I got full custody. But I knew that was cruel and certainly wasn’t going to solve anything. I told her I had to hang up and started to pace around my living room.

I needed help. I wasn’t too proud to admit it. I grabbed my phone.

Matteo: I have veal marsala and half a ricotta pie.

Gio: I’ll be there in 10 minutes

True to his word, Gio was knocking shortly after, beer in hand and a smirk on his annoying face.

“She can’t,” he said, after hearing about Mandy’s recent antics.

“She can,” I replied. “I’m going to call a lawyer tomorrow, but it’s been so long since I had to deal with the custody stuff. It’s been settled for years. I’ve never kept Val away, and now she wants custody?”

“She won’t get it; she’s a train wreck.”

“Not anymore. It sounds like she’s got her life together.” Gio snorted. “And courts are very favorable to mothers.”

“We’ll fight it,” he said. “I’ve got savings. We will get the best lawyer in the state and fight this as hard as we can.”

I was so grateful to have him in my corner.

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But I need to do what’s best for Val, and I’m not sure a drawn-out legal battle is it. I’m going to consult an attorney and figure out my options and then deal with Mandy. As much as I want to spiral and panic right now, she may forget all about this in a few weeks.”

“True. She’s not known for her follow-through.

” We sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the gravity of the situation sink in.

While I rationally knew I wouldn’t lose custody of Valentina, the panic was setting in.

Was I doing a good enough job? Would a court see that?

My stomach clenched, and I felt nauseous.

Gio looked at me and nodded, sensing my distress. “We’ll get through it,” he said gruffly and I nodded back in agreement.

After a beer, a few periods of a Bruins game, and some of Gio’s crazy travel stories, I was feeling slightly better. Things would work out. I believed it.

Of course, sensing that I was starting to relax, Gio pounced. “My twin spidey senses have been tingling,” he said, gesturing to me with his beer. “I know you’ve got the hots for your babysitter.”

I froze, not wanting to give anything away. But it was useless. Gio knew me too well.

I was an idiot. I thought I was successful hiding my feelings for Eliza, but apparently I was not if my twin and my eight-year-old saw right through me.

And Val made it sound so easy—just ask her on a date, as if that were a remote possibility.

In her child mind, if two people liked each other they went on date and got married and lived happily ever after.

Sadly, that was not how the real world worked. I was spread so thin already, there was no way I could give someone as amazing as Eliza what she deserved. And I would kill myself trying and then she would resent me for it.

I had thought of nothing but our kiss for the last week.

Well, that and the thought of her getting herself off thinking about me.

There were not enough cold showers in the world to tame my raging hormones.

I was like a horny teenager right now, and I had Eliza on the brain.

The hair, the eyes, those breasts, and that incredible ass.

Goddamn, I wanted to spank it. And something told me she would be into that.

Against my better judgment, I filled him in on the Eliza situation.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it. I can always tell with you.”

“Stop gloating and help me. What do I do? I thought just ignoring it was the best move, but she seemed really upset with me this week, and Valentina even noticed that I’m obsessed with her.”

“Find your testicles and ask her out.”

“It’s not that simple.”

He leaned over and thumped me on the side of the head.

“Fuck. What did you do that for?”

“To make sure your neurons are still firing. Get it together, man. She’s pretty and fun. How many pretty, fun women are willing to go out with your grumpy, exhausted ass?”

He had a point. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had felt this type of attraction.

“Exactly. The universe has bestowed a gift on you, brother. Don’t fuck it up.”

I paced around the living room, then picked up Legos, books, and a bag of gummy worms that Val had hidden behind a couch cushion. I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t let my mind wander. Because if it did…well then, I would get my hopes up.

But the longing didn’t stop. It didn’t go away when I willed it to. The thoughts of our kiss, of the feel of her in my arms—it haunted me.

“What’s really holding you back?” Gio asked, grabbing the gummy worms out of my hand.

“It just feels like there is no room in my life right now. And you know how hard it was growing up without Mom, Dad always working, and having to depend on Nonna. I don’t want that for Val. I work so hard so that she can have more than we did.”

“And you’re doing a great job. But that doesn’t mean you can’t date.”

“Doesn’t it though? Everything I do is in service of my goal of being a good father and provider. It feels selfish to do something for me.”

“You are so wrong, brother. Take care of yourself. Have a little fun. Take some of the pressure off yourself. You have stressed and worked nonstop for years; maybe it’s time for a break?”

I glared at him and paced around the living room. I wanted to ask Eliza out. I wanted to go out, have some drinks, and talk and laugh with her. She had mentioned casual the other night, so maybe this would be good for me?

“You like her,” he teased.

“Of course I like her. I’m not you. I am choosy about where I stick my dick.”

Gio recoiled dramatically and clutched his heart “You wound me, brother. But you’re not wrong. Of the two of us, I’m the sexier, more adventurous twin.”

I continued to glare at him. At this point I couldn’t even summon the energy to roll my eyes at him.

“Put on your big boy pants and ask her to hang out. There is no reason you can’t have some casual fun. Set the expectations, be honest, and then have a good time. See what happens. It’s what I do.”

He was right. Cocky bastard. I needed to do this right. Ask her out, talk to her, explain myself, and give this a chance. The attraction was there, and the friendship was there. What was stopping me?

“Should I text her?”

Gio raised his hand as if to thump me again. “No. Fuck no.” He ran his hands through his hair and cracked open another beer. “Listen. You have to work your old man status to your advantage. All those twenty-something fuckboys probably text her and invite her to Netflix and chill or whatever.”

I didn’t like the idea of Eliza Netflix and chilling with anyone. I growled.

“You’re not a boy. You’re a man. So act like a damn man. Show her the difference.”

Fuck. He was right. I hated when Gio was right. I would ask her in person. Look her in the eye and apologize for being a coward.

“I’ll babysit. Or better yet, ask Barb for another sleepover. Take Eliza out, show her the real you. Not the exhausted dad, but the man. The cool guy who used to ride his motorcycle around, partying and having a good time.”

“That guy is gone.”

“Part of him still exists. In the garage.”

“You think?”

“Yes. That motorcycle is a fucking work of art and deserves to be ridden. If the weather is good, take her out on the bike, hit the beach, feel the wind in your too-long hair. Trust me, you need this brother.”

“I hate to admit this but you may be right.” My mind spun with possibilities. I wanted to take her everywhere, feed her amazing food, and spend a few uninterrupted hours talking to her and staring at that gorgeous face.

“Of course I’m right. I am the superior twin. Now where’s the pie?”