“Baby,” I repeat softly. “And I’m allowed to feed baby?”
Molly pushes the doll’s head against my chest. “Feed baby,” she repeats.
“Molly? Bring baby back here, Sweetheart,” Sullivan calls.
“Baby needs feeding first,” I reply, smiling at her.
She beams, her tiny white milk teeth on display. On her dress, there's a little round sticker featuring a picture of fruit, with the text,Peach for the stars.
I hold the doll against my breast, stroking its cheek gently as I pretend to nurse it. Molly watches with her bottom lip poking out before she declares baby has had enough. I carefully hand the doll back to her, and she goes to Sullivan and gives it to him. He places it up on his shoulder, patting its back as Molly climbs into his lap.
He wraps his arm around her, and she snuggles into his side, playing with his tie.
“Baby loves you, Daddy.”
He continues to soothe the toy through an imaginary burp and kisses Molly’s head. “And I love you and baby. I’m a very lucky daddy.”
Molly giggles and pats the doll’s back with him.
The usually stiff Sullivan doting on Molly with such adoration fills me with warmth. I turn to Sterling to see if he's noticed, but the moment I look across the table, his eyes meet mine, as if he’s been watching me all along. They’re darkened with a simmering heat that steals my breath.
“So sweet,” Lavinia coos.
I swallow as Sterling holds my eyes over the rim of his glass and takes a sip. His eyes are burning like two blue flames. He places his glass on the table with a forceful thud, then he’s on his feet.
“Excuse me.” He clears his throat, buttons up his jacket, and slips out of the room.
I rise to my feet, my excuse about heading to the restroom unnecessary because the table has broken into smaller pockets of conversation, and no one notices as I leave.
I hurry down the corridor, bypassing the restrooms, and head toward the strip of light glowing under Sterling’s closed office door. The pleated skirt of my wrap dress settles against my thighs as I pause outside and take a deep breath.
I knock harder than I mean to.
“Come in.”
I step inside, leaving the door partially open.
“Why are you fighting it? Do you think you don’t deserve it, is that it?”
All thoughts of gently easing into this conversation evaporate at the sight of him sitting behind his desk, one hand running across his silver-flecked jawline.
“Hallie,” he says wearily, like he knew I’d follow him and was hoping I wouldn’t.
“I don’t understand.” I storm to his desk, planting both palms on the dark wood and leaning over it.
“What’s there to understand?”
“Really?” I snap in exasperation. “Come on… I can feel the energy racing out of you, even now. It was practically clawing its way across the table back there.” I shoot an arm out, pointing back through the open door. “But you’re holding back, and I don’t understand why.”
“Clawing its way across the table?” He chuckles, but his eyes lack amusement.
“Yes! I felt it at the fundraiser too. And Lavinia’s giving back just as much.”
He hums, running his hand over his jaw again.
I want to smack it away and force him to listen to me. Really listen.
“Look, I’ve been doing this long enough to know energy like that when I feel it. She’s attracted to you. And I think you’re attracted to her. But something’s stopping you.”
