Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

“Howard worked as an electrician, Gayle was a teacher. They paid off their house twenty years ago and don’t owe anything else. Howard has had one speeding ticket in his life, neither drink, and they spent a lot of time helping Audrey out around her house.”

Dyson’s been busy, invading privacy and ferreting out information. I don’t know how he finds out half the stuff he does, and it’s best I don’t. “So, you’re saying they’re good people.”

“Yes. They’re good people,” he admits. “Who are going to struggle with a teenager who lies and takes trains into Manhattan. Gayle broke her hip five years ago, which is why she walks with a cane now. They were on a waiting list to move into an assisted living center but pulled their names off a year ago. I assume it’s because Audrey’s condition was deteriorating quickly and they knew they’d have Violet to take care of.”

There’s only one reason I can think of why people would want to move into one of those places, and it’s because daily life is getting too difficult to manage on their own. But that begs the question that’s been lingering in my mind and I’m sure has crept into his. “How long will they be able to take care of her?”

“Violet turns sixteen in January, so they just need to hang on for a little over two years, until she’s an adult and their legal responsibility is over.”

“They’re not going to kick her out on her eighteenth birthday. And a lot can change in two years when you’re in your eighties.”

“I’m aware of that, Abbi, but what am I supposed to do?” His body stiffens with tension beneath me. I’m sure he’s been dwelling on the answer to that question. “Please, tell me, what’s my role here? Because I’ve been asking myself that all day, and I can’t find the answer. I don’t know the first fucking thing about being a parent.”

“No one does when they start out—”

“This is not starting out. This is having a teenage girl dropped at my doorstep. Is that what you want? A fifteen-year-old—a stranger—suddenly living with us?”

No. I open my mouth but can’t utter the cruel answer, even if it’s the truth. We’ve only just started our lives together. Adding Violet to it would change everything. “This isn’t about what I want.” I would never want Henry to see me as the person coming between him and his daughter.

“Violet clearly doesn’t want it. You were there, you heard her.”

“She needs time to come to terms with everything.” How much time, I can only guess.

“And then what?”

“I don’t know. Look, you’re both processing. No one expects you to know how to deal with this on day one. For now, Violet has a loving home with her grandparents. She’ll be well taken care of, and she can help them. And maybe, once this initial shock is over, she’ll be willing to let you in.”

His chest lifts with a deep breath. “Children terrify me.” He says it softly, like a confession.

“Which children?”

“All of them.”

My stomach clenches. Is this where he tells me that he’s changed his mind, that he doesn’t want them anymore? No. I stop myself from heading down that path and instead ask, “What’s so scary about them?”

He pauses. “The way they can change your life in a heartbeat. One minute they don’t exist and then they do, and everything suddenly feels different.”

“Different, but not bad, right?” I hold my breath.

“No, not bad,” he admits after a moment.

I release the softest sigh of relief. “You didn’t have time to ease into the idea of this. There was no nine-month countdown, no cute little helpless bundle.” Henry got a furious teenager in muddy Chucks, throwing a contract at his feet before storming off.

“She’s been alive for almost sixteen years and I had no fucking clue. Sixteen years.” His voice grows husky. “How many times did that kid ask about her father? How many times did she wonder why I didn’t care?”

My heart aches for him as he struggles with his conscience. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“She seems to think it is.”

“No. She’s angry. Probably angrier at her mother than you, but you’re here and Audrey’s not, so you’re going to get the brunt of it.”

He seems to consider that, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths, his heart beating hard against my ear.

“This wasn’t your fault.” I say each word slowly so he hears them, so they sink in. “And you saw that house, and her grandparents. She wasn’t abandoned—she’s had a good life.” Whatever else Audrey can be accused of, it doesn’t seem like she was a bad mother.

He’s silent for a few minutes. “She’s a stranger to me and yet she’s mine. She came from me.”

“She won’t be a stranger forever.” I smooth my palm over his bare skin. “Not if you make the effort to get to know her.”

I sense him opening his mouth to respond, but he holds back whatever he was going to say, settling his hand over mine.





CHAPTER 10





“Are you sure this isn’t too much?”

Raj stands beside me, hands on hips. “You said you wanted a Gothic-themed dinner party for Halloween.”

“I did.”

“This is a Gothic-themed dinner party.”

“It is. One hundred percent.” The catering company arrived at eight a.m. to begin setting up. Hours later, the dining area has been transformed into a luxurious cave swathed in black—from the silk tablecloths and metal candlesticks to the matte cutlery and stoneware. Even the wineglasses are tinted ebony. The only hints of color come from tiny bronzed pumpkins and centerpieces spilling over with green moss. Elsewhere in the penthouse, candles wait to burn atop their candelabras and exotic floral arrangements grace end tables. When Sasha described the medley of black orchids, tulips, and calla lilies, I had no idea what to expect, but I was right to trust her.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t been questioning everything, every step of the way. “I’m sorry, Raj.” His patience with me must be thinning by now.

“You’re nervous about making a good first impression on Mr. Wolf’s friends.”

“No, I am really, really, really nervous about making a good first impression. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t travel in his circle.” I didn’t grow up in a city with a rich family, I didn’t go to private school. I have nothing in common with them. What if they hate me? What if they tell Henry he’s lost his damn mind marrying me, that they don’t approve of his choice of a wife?

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. But in any case, Sasha’s company hosts the more exclusive parties in the city. They know their clientele, and they know what they’re doing.”

Given the price tag of this party, I should hope so. “What about the food?” The elaborate seven-course menu is printed on parchment and set at each guest’s seat. The chef and his staff have been working in the little catering kitchen all afternoon, the only hints that they’re in there the fragrant aroma of roasted meat and the odd clatter.

“Hors d’oeuvres are ready, and the tenderloin is in the oven. It will be a magazine-worthy night,” Raj assures me. “Everything is taken care of, and your guests will start arriving in less than an hour.”