The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,219

she worked for him a long time. She might talk to you.”

Armed with an address and Rachel’s command that I bring Remi home, I pull just out onto Wildeway Parkway and start making my way north. I’m fiddling with my GPS when my phone rings. My daughter’s face lights up my screen and I press the green circle to accept it.

“My sweets. Hi, baby,” I sing at her.

“Hi, Mom. Where are you?” she asks; my heart flutters as her sweet voice fills my car.

“I’m in Texas. For work. Like I was yesterday,” I remind her.

“Still?”

“Yes, honey. Still. And don’t whine.”

“But, I miss you.” She moans and ugh… it feels so damn good to know someone does.

“You just miss my mac and cheese,” I tease her.

My heart aches, though. I wish I could be with her. She’s young, but she’s great company and in some ways, I’m getting to live my childhood through her. She makes all the shit I’ve had to wade through worth it.

Making sure she gets everything I missed out on is what gets me out of bed every morning. I would suffer everything all over again if it meant I could have her.

“I miss you more. But guess what? I’m buying you a ticket to come and see me in two weeks. You and I are going to spend a whole weekend just hanging out.”

“Really?” she squeals and I’m glad she’s still so easy to please.

“Yes. I promise.”

“I can’t—” Her voice muffles and I hear her speaking to someone.

“Bianca?” I shout, I didn’t even ask where she was when she called. She’s almost eight, and she has playdates now. Paul lets her walk to her friend’s house by herself. I know it’s fine, and I did it at her age. But my neighborhood in Houston wasn’t anything like the huge city blocks of Manhattan where my child is growing up.

“Kalilah.” Paul’s voice comes through clear, full of reproach and loud.

“Hello, Paul.”

“It’s not an authorized phone call day for you. Please stick to the schedule.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not going to decline a call from my daughter because it goes against your ridiculous rules.”

“Those rules are in the best interest of my new family dynamic. On the days she speaks with you, Donna is upset. It causes a heightened level of tension in our home that I would like to minimize. It would be best, actually, if these protracted visits could be kept to a minimum in general.”

My anger surges. At his parent’s urging, he fought me for full custody. I went broke to make sure that my daughter stayed with me. Now, Paul treats being a parent like it’s an inconvenience.

“She’s going to grow up one day, Paul, and she’ll wonder why you didn’t spend more time with her. She’ll be leaving in a week, please do your best to make her feel at home until then.” It’s a warning and not a request.

“Maybe you should be here instead of gallivanting all over the country in the name of a career. You made your choices, now we all have to live with them.” And then he hangs up.

He has never laid a hand on me, but I used to flinch every time he started to talk. Because his words were his weapon. He berated me constantly. Ruined my career and then the minute I rebelled, he divorced me and took up with his secretary. He’s the one who had an affair, but somehow, the breakdown of our marriage was my fault.

I’ve never wanted her to feel like a piece of rope in a tug-of-war. She hated that we split. She loves us both.

“Choose better next time, Kal.” I hear Fallon’s voice in my ear.

Armed with that and an address that Rachel, Remi’s assistant very willingly provided, I enter the onramp and make my way toward College Station to find Remi.

Chapter 25

I REMEMBER

REMI

* * *

The crunch of gravel under tires doesn’t surprise me. Nancy started barking three minutes ago. She always does when someone comes up this way. She spots them a few miles away, and she comes running, barking her head off. She’s calmed down a lot since I found her, but she’s still wary of everyone who comes here.

Mrs. Jameson comes up every Tuesday from the small restaurant that’s attached to the convenience store she and her husband own in town. Nancy barks at her so hard, she refuses to get out of her car.

But today’s not Tuesday. And I haven’t invited anyone to visit.

For a split