“I’m sorry,” Scarlet says, and I brush off her words. I don’t want pity. I get along just fine and raising my son on my own for the last four years allowed us to bond in a way we couldn’t if Daisy was still in the picture.
“Slow down,” I call out to Jackson, who spotted one of his friends at the park. We have one more street to cross. Picking up the pace, I catch up to him before he zooms across the street. We wait for a pickup to go by, and then he rides as fast as he can to the playground, dumping his bike to the ground and pulling at his helmet strap as he runs to the swing set.
I wave to Mrs. Hills, the mother of Jackson’s friend, and motion to a park bench. Scarlet follows, eyes wide as she takes it all in.
“What part of Chicago are you from?” I ask.
“The South Side.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “Yes, the ghetto.”
Nodding, I decide that’s enough information to share for one night. She’s my employee, after all. The wind picks up, blowing in the scent of rain. Scarlet shivers and pulls her arms in around herself. The faint outline of her nipples becomes visible through her shirt, and I take off my jacket to give to her.
“Thanks.” She slips her arms inside the sleeves, thinking I’m being chivalrous. Really, I’m helping out my dick.
“Dad! Scarlet!” Jackson yells from the top of a slide. “Come watch me go down the slide. It’s super fast!”
We both get up, going across the playground to watch Jackson go down a twisty slide. He grabs Scarlet’s hand and leads her up the playground steps. My phone buzzes in my pocket, no doubt more texts from my brothers.
“Good evening, Officer Dawson,” Mrs. Hills croons, sauntering over. She got divorced last year and makes sure everyone knows just how single she is every time she talks.
“Hello, Mrs. Hills.”
“Please, call me Terry. Our boys go to school together. We’re practically family at this point.”
I force a smile, realizing that running for sheriff means having to put up with bullshit small talk and pleasantries. Maybe I don’t want to do it after all.
“I can’t help but notice your companion,” she goes on. “Finally free?” She wiggles her eyebrows hopefully.
“She’s Jackson’s nanny,” I reply, sidestepping her question. Sometimes I hate this small town as much as I love it. Everyone knows Daisy ran out on us and I haven’t petitioned for a divorce yet.
“Well, she’s very pretty.”
“I suppose so.”
“Are you coming to the kids’ fall party at school next week?”
Motherfucker. It’s next week? “I’m not sure. We’ll see how much crime happens that morning.”
Terry laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and Scarlet snaps her head around. Her eyes flit from me to Terry, taking a second to watch us before turning back to Jackson.
“Well, I’m in charge of snacks, and if you want, I can bring you something extra. Maybe something a little sweet?” She angles her body toward mine, inhaling so her breasts rise up in front of me. “Or do you prefer salty?”
Doing everything I can not to physically recoil from her, my phone ringing at that exact moment is welcome.
“It’s my sister, gotta take this,” I say.
“Quinn? Tell her I said hello!” Quite a few people in this town were quick to judge Quinn when they found out she was pregnant and not married. Then they remembered she was rich and suddenly are her best friend again.
“Hey, sis,” I say into the phone.
“Hey. So…how’d it go today?”
“The day isn’t over yet.”
“Uh-oh. Is that a bad thing?”
I watch Scarlet run in slow motion as Jackson and his friend chase her around, pretending to be the zombies this time. “No. Jackson seems to really like her.”
“Good! She was really nice when we met at the coffee shop.”
I don’t feel like getting into it with my sister tonight, but we’ve all tried to explain to her that just because someone seems nice doesn’t mean they should be trusted. But that’s just Quinn for you, always finding the good in everyone.
“We’ll see how it goes. I’m still not sold on this, you know.”
“Make up your damn mind. If you want to pull out of the race, just do it already. If not, we need to amp up your campaigning.”
“I thought you were certain I’d win,” I tease.
“I am. But people need to know you’re running against that sexist old Sheriff Turner so they can vote for you.”
Chuckling, I agree. “Okay. Give me to the end of the week. If this works out, we’ll go all the way with this.”
“Yay! Oh, shit. Emma just puked all over Archer and he was on his way out the door to do an emergency appendectomy.”
“I don’t miss those days. See ya later, sis.”