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Still.

It actually would be nice to date someone. Movie nights at home and going out for ice cream with Ella are everything to me, but it’s not the same in terms of companionship.

But private school tuition aside, what I really can’t afford is a messy relationship with someone who knows exactly what I do. What happens when they end up not being as cool about it as they think when they’re the one waiting at home? I’ve seen it with some of the guys and girls who have worked for Brennan over the years. Like Christian, who got his forehead split open by an abusive boyfriend a while back.

The other problem is Mike. What we are to each other is far from romantic, but it’s also far from normal. Should’ve put a stop to it years ago, but I can’t seem to.

So even if it’s a little tempting to say yes to a decent guy like Tim… “I can’t. I’m sorry. You’re honestly a great guy, but my life is way too complicated.”

My dead girlfriend’s brother likes to let himself into my apartment with the key I was dumb enough to give him and humiliate me when nobody’s watching. I think it’s why I can’t really enjoy regular vanilla sex anymore.

No way in the world can I explain that to anyone. No, thank you.

“Believe me, though, if I were going to say yes to anyone, it’d be you,” I add.

“Well.” He straightens. “That’s something, I suppose.”

“Besides.” I wave to the wall of photos near the front door. Almost every one of them features his late husband. “Got the impression you weren’t really ready to move on.”

He sighs. “I certainly want to be.”

“Gotta give yourself time,” I say.

“How long did it take you?” At some point, I must’ve mentioned Ella’s mom being gone.

This time it’s harder to smile, but I try. “I’ll let you know.”

My feelings about Billie are complicated. I miss her. It breaks my heart knowing she’d have been a great mom, and knowing she’ll never see Ella grow up. But the things I let her brother do to me? The way I like them? Knowing about all that could kill her all over again. Not sure there’s any washing away that kind of guilt.

If I hadn’t already been itching to leave, the sympathy on Tim’s face would’ve done it. “Listen, you have my number. Call me if you want me to look into getting you an interview for Bardsden. I’m happy to help. As a friend,” he adds.

“As a friend.” Yeah. Okay. It’s not that weird. “I can do friends.” Friends who do it missionary style twice a month. No problem. “Honestly, I’d be grateful. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Tim gives me a charming smile. “I really don’t.”

“Great.” I clear my throat. “I need to go get my daughter, but thank you for the coffee. And everything else.”

My phone starts beeping on the way out to my car.

Michael: Ella’s school called. On my way to pick her up.

Fudge. Not that it’s a contest, but I can’t help feeling like he’s one-upped me again.

CHAPTER THREE

Michael

After picking up Ella early from school because some friend of hers found drugs in the bathroom, then dealing with Dean’s panic when he got home, the rest of my day was spent catering to the various needs of my client while wearing nothing but boxer briefs. Fucking exhausting.

Now it’s the middle of the night, and I can’t sleep.

Maybe it’s the rumbling snores of the state senator next to me. Or the knowledge that nobody knows one of the biggest family values politicians in the state spent the evening tonguing my asshole like that was his actual job.

He has a granddaughter Ella’s age.

Every weekend I’m tempted to record our interactions. But it’s risky. There’s a reason he doesn’t like me to have clothes on when I’m visiting.

For the kind of money he pays me, I can tolerate a lot. Including a man who lies every time his lips move.