VANCE
By the time we pulled out of Wrenport, the sun was starting its descent toward the ocean. The car was full of chatter—the girls reviewing their favorite moments from the day.
“Can we do this again sometime?” Grace asked from the back seat.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Anytime.”
“Maybe next time we can go to that arcade we saw,” Annie suggested.
“Deal.”
I caught Margot’s reflection in the rearview mirror. She was smiling, looking out the window, her new T-shirt folded carefully on her lap.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to Grace’s house. Gillian was already standing on the porch, waving.
“Thanks for taking me, Vance!” Grace called, grabbing her shopping bag. “This was seriously the best day.”
“My pleasure, kiddo.”
After dropping Annie at Delphine’s, it was just the three of us left in the car—Mia, Margot, and me. The girls had gotten quieter, worn out from the long day.
“You two okay back there?” I asked.
“Just sleepy,” Mia said.
“Me too,” Margot added softly.
When I turned onto Lila’s street, the first thing I noticed wasn’t the house—it was the black SUV parked across from it. The windows were tinted, but I caught the unmistakable glint of a camera lens aimed straight at her front door.
Paparazzi.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“What’s that car doing there?” Mia asked, leaning forward.
“Stay in the car for a minute,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Both of you. Keep the doors locked.”
I got out and crossed the street, keeping my voice level but firm. “Evening. What are you doing here?”
The guy didn’t even flinch. “Just doing my job.”
“And what’s that, exactly?” I asked.
“Love triangles, man. They can put my kids through college.”
Love triangle. What the hell was he talking about? “Say that again?”
“You and Lila Morgan. Lila and the contractor. It’s gold.”
“Listen, I’ve got my kids in the car.” I drew nearer, eyeing the camera around his neck—and imagined yanking it off and smashing it to the pavement. “Let’s have you be on your way before I call the cops.”
“Public figure. Public street,” he said with a shrug.
“This is her home,” I said evenly. “And you’re going to leave and not come back. Or I’ll call the police and report you for harassment. I’m sure your outlet would love that headline.”
He stared at me for a beat. “Fine. But you’re not going to be able to keep us away from her. We do this day in and day out, dude.”
I moved closer, my fist clenching at my side. “I don’t care what you think you can do. What I know is that I have a bad temper.”
