Page 28 of Heartsick & Lipsticks
NICK
“So then thatpost went viral, and I got a million followers in two days. I decided to use my newfound attention to start my charity.”
I was doing my best to listen to Anastasia as she told me about her start as an influencer. I’d always been good at listening to people. Hell, I’d made a career out of it. I loved hearing people’s stories. And if they were coming from a drop-dead gorgeous woman, even better.
Stacia was a half-Russian, half-Brazilian model who was a cross between Adriana Lima and Heidi Klum. Any man would be crazy not to give her his full attention. Which meant I would need a straitjacket.
All I could think about was Skye. She was like an earworm, except instead of a song that I couldn’t get out of my head, it was hazel eyes, full cherry lips, fresh lavender scent, a sweet, soothing voice, and pinup curves that made beads of sweat form on the back of my neck every time I thought about them.
How on earth did she manage to look sexier in shapeless scrubs than the model seated in front of me in a figure-hugging minidress?
I’d only set up this date to try and stop thinking about her, and it was having the opposite effect. As I was leaving the diner after lunch, Anastasia messaged me to let me know that she was in town. I’d immediately agreed to see her because I thought it would be the perfect diversion. We’d flirted over social media for months now, and I’d been looking forward to meeting her in person. My plan had been to ask her to attend the fundraiser with me.
“Anyway, enough about me. What about you? You’re a single dad, right? How old is your daughter?”
Bella was my favorite topic of conversation; normally I could go on for days about her, but I found myself giving Anastasia the bare minimum of information. “Bella is six, about to be seven.”
“Wow.” Her eyes widened. “And what about her mom? She’s a model, right?”
“She is someone I dated briefly,” I gave her the standard answer that I gave everyone.
The server delivered our second round of drinks as my phone vibrated on the table. Before I had Bella, I was never on the phone during a date. I always tried to be present and give anyone I was speaking to my full attention. Once I had her, I checked every message and every call I got just to make sure that there wasn’t an emergency.
The text was from her manny, Parker. It was a photo of Bella and Skye standing at the kitchen island. In the background, I could see Naomi seated at the breakfast nook, smiling at the two of them. It looked like Skye was helping Bella crack open an egg. The sight caused my heart to feel like it was being cracked open. Parker had added the hashtag wifey material.
I looked up at arguably one of the most beautiful women in the world and thought,What the fuck am I doing here?An urgency unlike anything I’d ever felt before rushed through me. I wanted, no needed to be in that kitchen.
Perhaps sensing my shift in demeanor, Anastasia asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Actually, no. I need to go home.”
“Oh, okay.” She started to stand.
“No stay. Enjoy your meal and your drinks. It’s on me.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sorry to cut the night short. Dad duty calls.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek as guilt niggled at my chest. I felt bad deserting her, but as I walked away from the table, she was already on her phone, typing. I was sure she wouldn’t be alone for long. Her sister was in town with her, and they were both staying at the hotel we’d chosen to meet at.
The elevator couldn’t come fast enough. I found myself pressing the button more than once, even though I knew that would not speed up its arrival. Tonight’s date was a massive failure. My brilliant plan had backfired on me. Instead of distracting me from Skye, it magnified my infatuation with her.
Anastasia was gorgeous, smart, funny, and altruistic. Those were all qualities that I valued and would want in a partner, even if it was only short-term. So why in the hell could I not stop thinking of the nurse who couldn’t seem less interested in me?
She’d practically ran out the door this morning when Bella invited her to stay for breakfast.
I exhaled when the doors finally opened. I stepped on and was mentally pacing as it made the thirty-story descent to the parking garage, stopping a dozen times for more passengers, half of whom got off in the lobby while the others continued their journey down to the parking levels.
The urgency only increased as I made my way home. Getting in my car. Leaving the garage. Driving home. Pulling into my driveway. With each act, the tension and anticipation built like a crescendo.
When I finally walked into the kitchen, I was disappointed to find it empty. Talk about anti-climactic. No Bella. No Skye. No Parker. No Naomi. There was evidence that they’d been there, though. Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies were arranged on the cooling rack.
I stood in my unoccupied kitchen and asked myself, What would have happened if I had found them? Nothing. I hadn’t had a plan; I’d justneededto get home. If this continued, I might need to get in to see Dr. Lavine before our next scheduled therapy appointment.
Feeling at loose ends, I went to find Bella and heard voices coming from the playroom. I headed there and found Bella having a tea party with her stuffed animals and Parker. They both looked up, surprised to see me.
“Daddy!” Bella set the teacup down and raced toward me.
“You’re back early,” Parker observed with a slight raise of his brow.
