Grip (The Driven World) - Lacey Black Page 0,58

for a while. We’ve been cooped up together today, a steady beat of rain keeping us from going out and enjoying this Tuesday. Being cooped up with Lena has its pros and cons. It feels great having her around, even underfoot at times, but at the same time, having her around so much is messing with my head.

It makes me think of things I can’t have.

A text comes through from Coop, reminding me of my obligation Saturday. The Hicks gala is this weekend at The Garland.

And I should have a date.

I’ve gone over it in my head all day and keep coming back to one option. Lena. However, it’s not like I have a lot of babysitting options in LA. Sure, I could call a service, but the thought makes my stomach clench with anxiety. I can’t picture letting some stranger into my home to watch my infant. Not happening.

That’s why I grab my phone and dial a number I haven’t called in a handful of months.

“Hello?”

I’m already smiling as the familiar voice fills the line. “Hey, Jim. How are you?”

“Mack, good to hear from ya, Son. I’m fine, fine. How’s it out there? Lena all right?”

I take a seat on my porch steps and set the baby monitor down beside me. “Lena’s good, Jim. She just went for a walk.”

I’m met with silence on the other end of the line. After a pregnant pause, he finally asks, “What’s going on, Son?”

Son.

Even before I dated his daughter, Jim Stanley called me son. Hell, after our relationship ended, he still used the term. He’s always been the closest person I have to a real father, and I find myself getting a little emotional over his question.

Clearing my throat, I give him an answer. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“There’s this…thing Saturday night. A gala for my sponsor, Hicks. I have to go, along with my team. I just…well, I was hoping Lena would go with me.”

Jim’s silent again, the only noise the steady sound of his breathing.

“Jim?”

“Lena used to love to get dressed up. She was always too little to go to most of the events I had to attend, but there were a few. Her favorite thing was to go pick out her dress and then get her hair done. One of the wives of a tire changer was a hairdresser and made sure Lena was taken care of.”

A soft smile plays on my lips. When I close my eyes, I can imagine a young thirteen-year-old Lena Stanley getting all dolled up in a lavender and yellow dress, dark curls pinned to the top of her head.

“Have you asked her?”

“Not yet,” I reply, watching the sidewalk for her return.

“Why not?” There’s no judgment in his question, just genuine wonder.

“I don’t have anyone to watch Oliver. I know there are tons of services out here, but I’m just not ready to leave him with someone I don’t trust yet.”

Jim exhales. “I understand, Mack. So, ask me.”

“Ask you?” I reply, a hint of a smile in my voice.

“Yep, just ask. I might say yes.”

I sit up straight, flashbacks to the first time I asked Jim if I could to take out Lena are racing through my mind. The nerves are still very real. “If you don’t have a race Saturday night, I’d love to fly you out to Los Angeles so you can see your daughter, and maybe even help me with Oliver so I can take her to the gala.”

Why do I sound like I just ran a marathon?

Jim’s chuckle fills the air between us. “I’ll be there Friday, Mack. No need to pay for my flight. I’d love to come meet your little boy and see my daughter. And yes, I’ll be happy to watch him for a while Saturday night. In fact, I’m honored you’d trust me enough to be left with him.”

“No one I trust more than you, Jim.” Besides his daughter, that’s the absolute truth.

“Then, I’ll call you with my flight details.”

“We’ll pick you up,” I tell him.

“Can’t wait, Mack. So tell me about that win, Son,” he encourages, jumping right into conversation about Sunday’s win.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m just signing off with Jim as his daughter comes around the fence at my driveway and walks my way. Even from my porch, I can see the smile on her face as she snaps a few photos of the trees, flowers, and even a bird flying overhead. She keeps her face tilted toward the early evening sun and

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