Right, well, this woman wasnotgetting my phone number. She obviously knew who I was because she had the recognisable eager gleam in her eye that people got when they met someone famous. If I gave her my number, half of Dublin would probably have it before the day was through.
“Do you have Shannon’s number?” I asked, and she nodded. “Well, you can just message her. She normally arranges Zara’s play dates, but like I said, it’s up to Zara if she wants to go. Have a great day!” Her face fell as I quickly rolled up the window and pulled away from the parking spot. As I drove, my phone lit up with a message where it sat in its holder by the dashboard.
The preview filtered across the screen alongside Dixon’s name.
Dixon: I was wondering when the hot moms would start making their moves on you.
Snickering and shaking my head, I flipped up my middle finger and held it for him to see from where he followed behind me. Dixon was a great bloke, but he was a bloody smartarse sometimes.
When I reached Bren’s place, which was where I’d been spending most of my days in between dropping off and picking up Zara, he was ready to show me how he’d designed the soundboard on his guitars. I managed to lose myself in the work for a couple of hours before he asked me how things were going. By the time I finished explaining everything about the catfish, he was staring at me, stunned.
“I used to think I had it hard going through recovery because I had a wife and three kids to provide for,” Bren said. “I can only imagine how tough it is when you have all this fame pressure added on top of it.”
“I’ve learned how to cope with the fame, but the idea of someone out there using my name and image to con people, it just makes everything feel out of my control.”
“And how are you handling that feeling?”
“I’m reminding myself there’s nothing I can do about it. This person could be anyone, anywhere in the world. If they’re a stranger, then it’s going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack.”
Bren studied me a moment, thinking on what I said before he replied, “When things really are outside of your control, there can be a freedom in that. Like you said, if there’s nothing you can do about it, you just have to accept it. My mother used to say, if the worst should happen, accept the worst and move on from there. It’s all you can do.”
Bren’s words stayed with me after I left his place to go pick up Zara. He was right; there was a freedom in acceptance, in trying to make the most of a bad situation.
Dixon had switched out his shift with Isla, who now sat outside watching the street. It was beginning to feel like overkill having a security detail follow me everywhere I went. Maybe Alison was the catfish’s only victim, and despite the fact that she’d gone out of her way to find me, she wasn’t dangerous.
Luckily, there was no sign of Laura Delamare when I picked Zara up after school before heading over to Elias’ place. He had a penthouse apartment in a fancy building just outside the city and was always trying to convince me to buy a place in the same area whenever a unit went up for sale. Before the divorce, Shannon, Zara and I had been living in a rented house because I was constantly travelling back then and buying a place wasn’t even on my radar. As the years wore on I began to feel the desire for a home but the thought of living somewhere on my own didn’t appeal.
Elias buzzed us up when we arrived. He threw open the door to his apartment and swept Zara into a hug. She was in a particularly good mood because she’d gotten the part she’d auditioned for.
“There’s my favourite girl in the whole wide world,” Elias exclaimed as he hugged her tight. It was almost comical because with most people he was standoffish, sometimes to the point of being rude, but with my daughter, he turned into a big softie. Roan sat in the living room, his shoulder length blondhair artfully mussed as he perched a pad on his knee, working on a sketch. He was the sort of guy who was always moving, always keeping his hands occupied, like if he stopped for a single second, he’d have to contemplate the meaning of existence, and that was just too heavy for his sensitive soul.
Elias brought Zara into the kitchen to help him finish making dinner, so I went to sit next to Roan.
“Hi, Jace,” he greeted but didn’t look up from his sketch.
“Roan,” I said, peering at the sketchpad and finding an outline of the view from Elias’ floor to ceiling windows. “Looks good,” I went on, and Roan finally put down his pencil to peer at me.
“How have you been?”
“As well as can be expected.”
He studied me a moment. “You’re not freaking out about the catfish thing? If it were me, I’d be a nervous wreck.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” I deadpanned, and he instantly looked sorry. I personally thought my dad was crazy suspecting Roan, even if he was besotted with Shannon. He was too much of an open book. You could read his every thought right there on his face. I mean, it was why it was so obvious to me that he had feelings for my ex. The only thing that kept me sane was that the likelihood of Roan ever making a move on Shannon was non-existent. He had too much loyalty to me and would likely carry his affection to his grave than ever act on it. It was fucked up that I was relieved by that, even if I did empathise with him. After all, I knew what it was like to love Shannon and not be able to be with her.
“How has Shannon been taking it?” he asked then, and I was surprised she wasn’t the first person he’d inquired about. I’d never outright accuse him of having feelings for her because I knew he’d probably never be able to face me again if I did, and I liked him too much to do that. To be honest, if it didn’t makeme irrationally jealous and if I wasn’t still hopelessly in love with her myself, I might’ve encouraged him to pursue her. Roan was a good bloke with a kind heart, and at least I’d know she’d be with someone who’d treat her well instead of some random dickhead off a dating app.
Fuck, I was still worked up from hearing that ping coming from her phone.
“She’s alright, mostly just concerned about Zara’s safety,” I replied.
“I’m sure she’s worried about you, too,” Roan said. “The way she held your hand the other night at the gallery. She was definitely concerned for you.”
See? This was how good a guy Roan was. He knew I still loved her and that it meant a lot for me to hear someone say Shannon still cared for me, despite harbouring his own feelings.
“She’s a good woman. She’d be concerned for anyone in the same situation.” Why was there suddenly a frog in my throat? The way I subconsciously needed Shannon’s affection was worrying.
“No, I don’t think—”
