I stare blankly at him. Because, no, I don’t.
“She’s always down to help, if needed. When I told her about what happened with your parents, I think she was ready to hop on the plane. Especially when I told her about Paisley.”
I sink back against the cushions, cracking my knuckles, thinking of the sharp-tongued woman. For being only a few inches over five feet, she sure carries herself like she’s ten feet tall. Looks sweet, but she’s poison underneath those blue eyes and soft lips.
“I could talk to her, if you want,” Erik goes on. “She understands the demands of your life, and you know you can trust her.”
Good points. But still…
After that time I suggested she’d be more relaxed if she got laid, I highly doubt she’d be excited to help me.
But then Paisley skulks around the corner, her long hair down around her face, her T-shirt and shorts way too big for her. She looks miserable and barely spares a glance in the direction of the living room before she opens a few cabinets, searching for food and clearly not finding anything to her liking since I don’t keep anything fourteen-year-olds enjoy. Mostly just protein bars and single servings of habanero BBQ almonds. She screeches her annoyance, grabs a Gatorade, and then stomps back to her room.
Erik raises his brows in my direction, and I acquiesce with a dip of my chin. “All right. Talk to your sister.”
CHAPTER 4
NADINE
“This is delicious,”I say, shoving a very unladylike bite of homemade pizza into my mouth, this one with prosciutto, peaches, basil, and balsamic vinegar. Since my brother installed a pizza oven outside, he’s become an adept chef.
Erik and Molly live on the Main Line, the affluent suburbs outside of Philadelphia, in a house that boasts six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, a pool, sauna, and over an acre of land. It’s secluded enough that they live in peace, but Erik can drive to the stadium in thirty minutes, which is perfect for their growing family.
My brother points his thumb over his shoulder to the brick oven.
“I have the fig and goat cheese one in there now.”
“You’re spoiling me so much, you’re gonna have a hard time kicking me out.”
Molly grins, aiming her pizza crust my way. “That’s the plan.”
I’ve been here for about a week, and I’ve spent most of that time snuggling with Kai, reading all the books I’ve been meaning to, and rotting on the sofa. But I woke up this morning, needing to do something.
Like Erik instructed, I did not resign from my position, and while I don’t feel all that confident about returning in the fall, I’m also trying to keep my mind off my job and my students. Especially Stacey. She should be due soon.
This morning, when I filled Molly in on all the details—how I’d taken Stacey to her doctor’s appointments and purchased her a few things, like baby clothes and gift cards—Molly hugged me close and told me we were going out.
I didn’t argue, needing to clear my head and conscience, so we took a Pilates class, went out for a long lunch, and then did a little shopping. By the time we returned home, Erik had started preparing dinner and greeted us each with a smile and a glass of wine, directing us to have a seat on the patio.
Suspiciously.
Not that my brother isn’t thoughtful and generous, because he absolutely is, but he’s been watching me for the last half hour like he’s waiting to drop a bomb.
He does after I’ve polished off a piece of the delightful fig and goat cheese pizza and replenished my wineglass. “So, I was with Camden today.”
“How’s he doing?” Molly asks, checking on Kai in his bouncy chair, drooling around his fist.
Erik inhales a big breath. “He’s…not great.”
Molly winces. “Poor guy.”
I don’t follow celebrity gossip, but after Erik told me about the situation, I looked it up, curious for more information on his sister. I’m not particularly fond of Camden, but my heart did break for him and Paisley. Especially after I learned someone had sold pictures of the funeral to the tabloids.
The image of Camden with his arm around his sister filters into my mind. The photo had been taken from behind, so her face wasn’t made public—small favors—but the infamous athlete was in profile, gazing down at her, the heartache etched so clearly on his features, it was impossible not to feel sympathy for him. Despite all of his faults.
Erik scoots closer to me. “Paisley is having a hard time adjusting, and training camp is going to be starting soon, so he needs to figure out a plan. And I thought you might be able to help.”
I wrench back. “Me?”
