Page 40 of Fake it With Me

The conversation flowed easily through dinner, Daisie peppering Liza with questions about sea creatures while Liza answered them in a way Daisie could understand. Daisie had clearly been thinking a lot about her questions. Do jellyfish get lonely? Can fish get seasick? Why do seahorses look like horses if they live in the ocean?

I found myself relaxing. It was what I had wanted. I needed to be seen in public with Liza and present the image of a stable family unit. But more than that, I was just enjoying being with them. Watching Daisie laugh, seeing Liza’s eyes light up when she talked about her research, feeling like we belonged together even though I knew we didn’t.

Even though this was all temporary.

We finished dinner and I paid the bill, leaving a generous tip for our server as usual. Then we headed toward the exit, Daisie holding both our hands, swinging between us.

And walked straight into an ambush.

The second we stepped outside, we were hit with a wall of flashing lights and shouted questions. At least six photographers, maybe more, crowding the entrance to the club. Cameras clicking, voices overlapping, all of them focused on us.

“Mr. Sullivan! Who’s the mystery woman?”

“Is this your new girlfriend?”

“How long have you been together?”

“Are you living together?”

“What does your ex-wife think about this?”

I immediately moved to shield Daisie, pulling her against my side while trying to process what the hell was happening. Security should have kept them off the property. This was a private club. How had they gotten past the gate?

Liza looked like a deer in headlights, frozen by the onslaught of attention. I saw panic flash across her face as more questions were shouted at her.

“What’s your name?”

“How did you meet Mr. Sullivan?”

“Are you moving to Maine permanently?”

“Do you have a comment on the custody battle?”

That last question made my blood boil. The custody battle was in the news—I knew that, hated it, but couldn’t stop it. I was well known enough in Maine that my personal life had become public fodder, especially now with Sasha’s lawyers painting me as an unfit father.

But dragging Liza into it, ambushing us at a family dinner, that crossed a line. Daisie didn’t need to know about all of the bullshit Sasha was stirring up. I had shielded her from the drama so far.

“No comment,” I said firmly, steering Liza and Daisie toward the car. “We have no comment.”

“Just a few questions, Mr. Sullivan!”

“I said no comment.” I scooped Daisie into my arms and held her while my other hand went to Liza’s back.

Daisie was clearly scared by the chaos and noise. Liza looked like she was barely holding it together.

We made it to the SUV and I got them both inside, then rounded to the driver’s side while cameras continued to flash through the windows. I started the engine and drove away faster than was probably wise, leaving the photographers behind.

The silence in the SUV was deafening.

“What was that?” Daisie asked in a small voice.

“Just some people who were being rude,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though rage was burning through me. “They shouldn’t have bothered us like that.”

“Were they bad guys?”

“No, sweetheart. Just annoying guys. Don’t worry about it.”

But I was worried about it. More specifically, I was worried about how Liza was handling it. She sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, her face pale.