“I just wish I’d been one of them,” he said. “You have to call me if you need something, though. If things don’t work out with what’s his face.”
“Colin.”
“Whatever,” he said. “Promise me.”
“Maybe.”
“Good. I’m only on leave, but if you need me, call the base.” He pulled a thick envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table. “That was my retainer for the lawyer. It’s yours. And I’d like to send more if you’ll let me.”
I recoiled at the pile of money in front of me. I didn’t want his money, but this was for Bailey. It could pay for things she needed, and I was supposed to be a grown-up. “Okay.”
He eyed me curiously. “I’m surprised he let you off his leash enough to see me. He was very close-lipped about where you were.”
I feigned interest in the pie. Colin would be beyond pissed.
“Ah, he doesn’t know.” He tapped the table, then rubbed his fingers together. “What the fuck is on this table? Whatever. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll sign those papers he gave me, giving up any paternal rights that might now, or forever in the future, be established against one Bailey Allison Winters, and send them to him. We don’t have to mention this meeting.”
“You’d do that for me?” I asked.
“Anything,” he said.
Shelly had once said that to me too—anything. Maybe Andrew was part of my army, after all. An unexpected ally.
“Thank you,” I told him and meant it. His debt to me wasn’t so great that I couldn’t still feel gratitude.
He dropped a twenty on the table and walked away, murmuring. “Bye, Alice.”
The nickname stung. He used to call me that, back when we were kids. Alice in Wonderland, he’d say. I’d protest, because she was dumb and I wasn’t. He’d proved me right, of course. I just hadn’t known the only mirror I’d fall into would be him.
I tucked the money he’d given me in my purse and left the diner, vowing not to go out to eat again for a year. It was a nice gift he’d given me, letting Bailey and me walk away. Or rather, doing the walking away himself. Sure, it’d been a problem that he’d started, first by that and second by coming in and threatening me, but I could still appreciate what it meant for him to sign those papers. Or maybe I was just a sentimental dumbass.
I drove home, struggling to tamp down my elation. No need to tempt fate by getting hopeful.
“Colin called while you were out,” Shelly said as soon as I walked through the back door.
“Hey, baby girl,” I said to Bailey, picking her up and nuzzling her tummy. Then to Shelly, “Damn, what did you say?”
She looked apologetic. “I said you were out jogging.”
I shot her an exasperated glance as I dislodged Bailey’s fist from my hair. “I don’t jog.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It was all I could think of.”
I still hadn’t been sure I would keep my visit with Andrew from Colin, but this would make telling the truth more awkward. Still, my worry over Colin couldn’t conceal my thrill over the result.
“So tell me what happened,” she said.
My voice muffled from beneath Bailey’s clinging arms, I said, “It’s over. He said he’s going to sign away his parental rights and leave us alone.”
“Just like that?”
“Yep,” I said.
She collapsed on the other end of the sofa, still managing to do it with grace. After a moment she said, “Then you didn’t really need Colin.”
Hell, I hadn’t even thought of that, but it wasn’t true. He provided financial support, physical protection, and stability. He cared for me and, I thought, even for Bailey, rounding out our little family. And, though it now seemed a small thing in light of his contributions, “He got the lawyer who’s doing the custody paperwork.”
She seemed to hear what I’d left unsaid, though, because she weighed it thoughtfully. “Will you stay here?”
“I want to.”
She nodded. “I’ll go now, but I think I’ll be seeing you soon.” With that cryptic note and a wink, she went out the back.
Left holding a wriggly Bailey, I laughed aloud at Andrew’s assessment of Shelly as my soldier. She may help me—a lot—but I had no illusions that she took orders from me.
Chapter Ten
Bailey was fed and—hallelujah—sleeping. I was halfway asleep too, but this laundry wouldn’t fold itself. It was a load of linens, though. No Colin underwear tonight. I stifled the urge to giggle. It really was getting late.
A soft scratching came from the front door. I tensed. More shuffling. The break-in at my apartment flashed through my mind. Worse things than random junkie burglars lurked as well. It could be something mixed up with Philip’s business. Plus, threats could come with badges and warrants.
I tiptoed over to the window and peeked around the side. I had a clear view of the front of the door. Nothing.