narrowed her eyes at him. “You be a monk. How about that?”
He shook his head. “Hell no.” He tipped his forehead to a Starbucks across the concourse. “Let me get you a coffee. We can’t have you yawning like that in the meeting.”
On the short flight to Los Angeles, she downed her coffee, the caffeine rejuvenating her, temporarily erasing the sleeplessness. She touched up her makeup as Colin walked her through his goals for the meeting with the reality show producers who wanted her to choreograph a one-night reunion, but her mind kept wandering to the sight of Brent walking away.
He hadn’t called it that, but to her it was déjà vu.
The door shutting.
The two of them on opposite sides.
“The meeting should be short and sweet, and I have some key thoughts on how to make this a good deal for you,” Colin said, in his businesslike tone. The sound of his voice returned her to the present moment. She forced herself to focus, since he was in her corner, going to bat for her. “The important thing to keep in mind is that you’re rising. When you worked on the show a few years ago, you were merely an associate choreographer on staff. Now you’re a star, and you create your own productions. Those network guys know that, but it’ll be natural for them to revert back to thinking of you as an employee. My goal is to make sure they don’t treat you as anything but the star that you are,” he said, and even though she was still hurting, his praise made her feel a little better. “That’s why I’m going with you. Because you are Shay Fucking Sloan,” he said, punctuating his pep talk by pointing his finger at her. “And if they want you for a one-night reunion, I’m going to make sure they treat you like a queen.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “You’re the best. Thank you for always looking out for my interests.”
He waved a hand as they pulled apart. “You make it easy.”
When they landed in Los Angeles, her phone was silent. No messages. No texts. No calls.
Her heart sank. Brent had been radio silent all through the night and early morning.
But she’d survive, she reminded herself, as they deplaned on the tarmac, the sun shining brightly. No matter what became of the two of them, she would survive. She always did; she always had. She knew how to keep on living, keep on moving, and keep on fighting.
She had her brothers. She had the three men who had never abandoned her. The three men who would always be by her side. She would stand by them, too, through anything.
The four of them had an unbreakable bond. They were her people.
* * *
October.
The pictures he’d seen were from October. She’d been four months pregnant then. If the pregnancy had continued, she’d have carried to March.
He’d have a nine-year-old son.
As his real estate attorney talked about neighborhoods in Chicago that were ripe for nightclubs, Brent ran his palm across his chin, trying to process the passage of time.
What grade was a nine-year-old in? Third? Fourth? Hell if he knew. The only kid he’d spent any time with lately was Carly and she was one. He knew nothing about children. Would his nine-year-old have been a sporty kid? Wanting to play catch or baseball or whatever kids wanted to play these days? Or would he have liked video games and Xbox? Would he have been a mama’s boy or just like his dad?
He twirled his pen between his thumb and forefinger, a long-time habit. He stared at his hand in motion as if it were a new addition to his body. Was this part of his DNA? Was something as mundane as pen twirling at a conference table a genetic trait he’d have passed on to a kid?
Brent lifted the pen to his face and studied it. Was his son right-handed or left-handed? Would he have been a good speller, or a whiz at math? Would he have liked being read to at night? Kissed on the forehead before he fell asleep?
“So there you go. We should be able to secure the property in Chicago, and I hope that we can get this one you had your sights set on in Atlanta. Ten-four, gentleman?”
Tate raised his eyebrows and glanced around the conference table, waiting for an okay from Brent and James.
But Brent was seeing his boy before his eyes, watching Shannon tuck him