I feel silly even thinking that, and even sillier that we didn’t exchange cell numbers. I wonder if his kids know his number. I look at them again, patiently sitting on the wooden chairs, waiting for him to turn up.
Dad smiles, trying to keep a brave face as he scratches his balding head. “Hmm. I wonder what’s taking him so long?”
I shake my head, noticing he refrains from saying Tristan’s name.
“What do we do?”
He shrugs. “No idea, but we can’t leave them here, and we can’t contact him. There’s no way they’ll let you go down there without one of those clearance badges.” Then, Dad smiles. “But, I have an idea.” He turns to Darcy and Ferguson. “Guys, do you know what hotel you’re staying at?”
Darcy’s eyes dart from left to right, and I think the mini-adult inside her is trying to figure out where the place is. Then, her eyes light up and she stands, pulling a little bag from her pocket and handing it to me. I realize that she’s taken a little souvenir from the room.
“They said that they’re free, and they leave them in the room. So, I never stole it. Honest. They said they were gifts from the hotel.”
She’s panicking, thinking she’s in trouble, which couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s a sweet little girl. One that, if I were taking care of her, wouldn’t feel so damn frightened and defensive. Way to go, Isobel. If I didn’t despise the woman before, despite not knowing her, I sure did now.
I nod my head, glancing at the little black bag with the Four Seasons written all over it. I wink at Darcy and say, “I don’t blame you. It’s a pretty bag.”
She smiles, letting out a deep breath. “That’s why I took it.”
Dad says, “Good. At least we know where to take them.”
It occurs to me that maybe we should take them straight to the police. But, that’s the problem with fame; if they were someone else’s children, that’s exactly what we would have done by now. Taken them to the police and let them deal with it.
But, somehow, because they just happen to be Tristan Wright’s kids, we’re going out on a limb for him. I can tell Dad’s thinking the same thing as I look over at him. The problem is, if we go to the hotel and Tristan isn’t there, then that’s exactly what we’ll have to do. Which is a shame, because the kids are so damn cute. And God knows, they’ve already been through enough earlier today by being under the supervision of one hurtful person. I really didn’t want to have to be another one for them to add to that list.
Chapter 5
Tristan
I try to leave the dressing room, but the guys have other things in mind. Everyone’s in a celebratory mood, and I can’t blame them for that. I could do with a drink or two myself, but I need to get to the kids.
“Tristan, where are you rushing off to?” the coach asks as I finally finish in the showers and grab my clothes. I don’t want to tell him I have no one to look after my children, and that they’ve been at the concession stand throughout the entire game. I feel like shit just thinking about it, let alone having to confess it to him.
I smile. “Nothing. Just want to get back to the kids.” Like, right now.
“Shit, you’re too hard on yourself. The kids are fine with that hot new nanny of yours.”
I put on a wider fake smile, thinking that the hot new nanny’s nothing but a neglectful bitch. A bitch who dumped my kids in a public arena.
“One drink won’t hurt. Besides, before we hit the city, I bought a bottle of champagne. You guys can call it a premonition, but I had a feeling we were going to fucking rock tonight. And what did we do tonight, boys?”
Everyone cheers. “Rocked it!”
We did rock it, they’re damn right about that. I glance down at my phone.
Ten minutes, that’s it. Besides, one drink won’t hurt. It’s not that late, and I’m sure they’ll be cleaning up and packing up the concession stand for a bit.
The kids will be fine.
I’m sure that they’re fine.
Monty seems nice enough, and Faith, well, she has an innocence about her that seems like the perfect equation for the kids.
I didn’t get to speak to her, seeing as she spent most of her time just nodding her head. But, Darcy seemed to like her all right.
I’m sure the kids are fine. It’s just one drink. Ten minutes. I repeat the words over in my head. I know I shouldn’t stay, and guilt is already seeping into me over it.
I’ll make sure the guys are distracted, then I’ll get the fuck out of here. The kids have been through enough today, and I wouldn’t want them to think I’ve abandoned them like Isobel did. They mean too much to me.