Stuck-Up Suit - Vi Keeland Page 0,62
THREE-STORY BROWNSTONE was only about a mile from my condo on the Upper West Side.
I stood in front of the brick structure and lingered for a bit before entering. Once I officially met Chloe, there would be no going back.
I was a father now. It still felt like a foreign concept.
Genevieve and I had agreed that this first meeting would be a casual dinner. She would introduce me as a family friend. We would play it by ear, and when the time was right, it would be explained to Chloe that she actually has two fathers, one in heaven and one on Earth. Over time, when Chloe was comfortable with the idea, we would develop a fair custody arrangement. Genevieve was lucky that she’d decided to make this easy for me. Otherwise she would have had one hell of a fight on her hands.
I had badly wanted Soraya here with me tonight, but it made more sense for me to get to know my daughter one on one first before introducing any more new people into her life. Chloe had just lost the only father she’d ever known. She was still extremely fragile.
A wreath made up of branches and berries hung on the red door. Ringing the bell, I took a deep breath in before the door opened.
Genevieve smiled and nudged her head. “Come in, Graham.”
Everything inside was either stark white, silver or gray. The décor was a lot like my own place, sleek and modern. It reminded me of just how much my taste had changed. I was much more into things of the colorful variety lately. Bright, bold colors.
The scent of aromatic spices filled the air, prompting me to ask, “What is that I smell?”
“Remember that homemade pad thai I used to make you? It was always your favorite. That’s what you smell. I made it for dinner tonight.”
I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from reminding her that I didn’t remember much that happened before catching her blowing Liam. This was not the night for my typical jabs, though.
“Thank you. That was thoughtful.”
“I just want you to feel comfortable here.”
The only thing making me uncomfortable was Genevieve trying to play happy homemaker.
“Where is she?”
“Chloe is playing in her room. I figured it would be better to just let her come out and find you here naturally, rather than introduce you right off the bat. I don’t want her to be suspicious.”
Suspicious that her mother is a lying cheat who’s withheld her actual father from her since the day she was born?
“Whatever you think is best. You know her better than I do. That’s not by my choice, of course.”
“I know.” Genevieve cleared her throat and walked toward the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water will be fine with dinner, nothing for now.” I took a seat in the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen.
“Are you sure? I have cognac…merlot…”
Holding out my palm, I said, “I’m not going to be drinking tonight.”
“Okay…just let me know if you change your mind.”
“I know you,” a sweet little voice said.
I turned around to find Chloe standing there. Her thick mane of long, brown hair covered half of her face. She was wearing adorable pink-footed pajamas and holding a teddy bear.
My mouth curved into a smile as I got up from my seat. “You know me?”
“You found my barrette…at Daddy’s party.”
That’s right. I’d picked up the pom pom thing that fell out of her hair at Liam’s wake.
I knelt down in front of her. “You’re a smart cookie.”
“What’s your name?”
“Graham.”
“Like Graham Cracker?”
“Yes. I suppose.”
“You’re a smart cracker!”
I chuckled. “You’re very funny, Chloe.”
Genevieve interjected, “Chloe…Graham is a friend of Daddy and Mommy’s. He’s joining us for dinner tonight.”
“Did you know my Daddy died?”
“Yes. I’m very sorry for you. I know he loved you very much.”
She walked over to the end table and picked up a framed picture, bringing it over to me. In the snapshot, Liam was looking lovingly over at her as autumn leaves fell around them. There was no doubt that he adored her. I wanted to feel bitter, but seeing the smile on her face in the photo made that impossible.
“That’s a really great photo of the two of you.”
“Thanks.”
Struggling with what to say to her next, I asked, “Do you always wear pajamas this early?”
“Sometimes.”
“They look very comfy. I wish they made those in my size.”
She scrunched her little nose. “That would be silly.”
“Yes. I suppose it would be.”
She handed