“Can I have an apron?” she requests as she runs to the counter. It seems more of a demand that she throws at Spencer.
“You mean please?” he corrects her with eyes that feel like a warning.
I shake my head, accepting that the conversation Spencer and I just had needs to be replaced by focus on Hadley’s entertainment.
Spencer looks to me as he begins his journey to where I would assume he hides aprons.
I try to take in the information that Spencer just told me, but questions are still popping up, and I don’t have time to think because a little girl claps her hands together to get my attention.
“Why are you staying here?” she asks curiously as she investigates the items I set on the counter.
I debate how to answer because I’m beginning to wonder if the original reason is the most important factor anymore.
“Because…” I draw the word out, as I’m not sure how to answer. “Sometimes baseball players do something that requires their acquaintances to live in their house temporarily.”
“What’s an aquit, akee—”
“Acquaintance. Someone you know but who isn't close enough to be a friend.”
“So, you’re not our friend?” The little girl seems very confused.
I sigh, as explaining this to a child, I need to take the easy way out and lie. “I am a friend. And friends use friends’ expensive kitchens to cook.”
“How long are you staying?” she asks as I hand her a measuring cup.
“As long as it takes,” Spencer announces as he holds out aprons for Hadley and me.
Grabbing my dark apron, I notice his eyes are piercing with a sort of stormy command that irritates me.
Because my treacherous body has excitement swirling somewhere within me.
8
SPENCER
Hadley looks at me with her head cocked to the side and a puzzled look. My eyes dart from her curiosity to the dining room table where April has set up a formal dining setting around one plate and a fancy decorated dish with the tortellini that she and Hadley made from scratch. There is even a fresh basil leaf thrown on for good measure.
“Is this how every meal is going to go?” I ask as I watch April standing on a chair to get a better photo of the plate of food.
“Yes. But you are assuming I’m cooking for you.” She takes a shot then turns her head to me. “I’m trying to do something with my life, and while in prison, I might as well make opportunities arise.”
“Highly doubt my state-of-the-art kitchen, indoor swimming pool, and lake views are considered a prison.”
April smiles sweetly at my daughter and then a hint of poison joins her smile when her eyes meet mine. The problem is, every time she attempts to show her dislike for me, it only comes across as a playful game that I have no problem participating in.
“Silly me and my choice of words. This is, of course, a completely wonderful five-star unplanned vacation.” I roll my eyes, as now she is just overdoing it. “Okay, enough photos, methinks. Shall we eat dinner?”
“Eww. I’m not eating that,” Hadley protests.
April seems ready to stand off against my daughter. She hops off the chair and brings her hand to her hip before leaning down to Hadley’s height. “Strange. You helped make it, and when you weren't looking, I even put in magic.”
“Magic?” Hadley seems interested.
April nods her head. “Yep. It makes little girls grow and makes their fathers be compliant.”
“Compli—” Hadley attempts to say.
My hand lands on my daughter’s shoulder. “I’m curious about this magic. I thought April was only capable of witchcraft,” I mumble through my teeth.
