“James assured me his father would return to the company soon, to set everything right. Not once did he mention that Ben was that ill.”
Nick read my expression with a sad smile. “I know, I know, but you’ve got to realize that James is the consummate optimist. It was like he thought he could wish his father well, that he could just will his dad to open his damn eyes, even though he got no response as time went by. In the beginning, they used to talk and laugh. Then things just got worse. James tried talking to him, even tried reading to him and playing his favorite music, convinced that the old man heard him. After a while, he just started sitting by the bed and holding ol’ Ben’s hand, giving him encouragement. He was convinced he would recover.”
I, on the other hand, could remember, because it happened the day before Ben died. That was the one thing he managed to tell me on the roof, right before he broke down. I did wonder what motivated him to visit that last time, on that fateful day of all days. Did he somehow know it was time to say goodbye?
Before I had a chance to say anything, there was a sudden ding above the elevator.
“Mommy! Daddy!”
I looked up with a start as the doors slid open and a breathtaking little girl skipped into view, followed closely by Max, the Hunters’ personal bodyguard.
Nick and Abby instantly sprang to life. In a swish of Chanel, she was on her feet, beaming with a maternal glow. On the other side of the room, the priceless glass tower crashed into a million little pieces as Nick hurried forward, wearing a broad smile and opening his arms wide enough for two.
“Sweetheart!” Nick said.
The girl was airborne the next second, leaping high in the air, only to be caught in her father’s arms. With the expression of a mildly impatient angel, she tolerated his relentless kisses only long enough to be passed to her mother, who delighted her with the same show of affection.
I hovered uncertainly on the fringes with Max and Ferdie, not sure where I fit into that Norman Rockwell painting of a moment or if I could ever fit in at all. Fortunately, the little Princess Hunter seemed highly accustomed to conducting her daily activities under the watch of strangers, because she just waved cheerfully at Ferdie and punched Max playfully in the kneecap before making her way over to me.
“Hello.” Her blue eyes lit up like there was a tiny sunrise inside, one she had conjured just for me. “What’s your name?”
I stepped forward with a smile and bent over to place my hands on my knees, till the two of us were at eye level. “My name’s Della. What’s yours?”
She stuck out her tiny hand and shook mine with the strength and grit of someone ten times her age. “Arabella Penelope Hunter...and it’s nice to meet you.”
I was surprised she didn’t curtsey, because she resembled a cartoon princess, from her creamy skin, to her golden curls, to her sky-blue eyes—those magic eyes, obviously an inheritance from her father. At the same time, I couldn’t really see her bowing to anyone. There were grass stains on her knees, holes in the elbows of her sweater, and the remains of what looked like a shredded Dior headband clinging precariously to the tips of her curls. No, this girl doesn’t take shit from anyone. The world is her playground, and she’ll do as she pleases, another inheritance from her father, I’m sure.
“It’s nice to meet you too!” I laughed aloud as she looked me up and down with those inquisitive eyes. “I can’t believ
e you’re walking and talking already. I was in Manhattan the day you were born, and they practically shut the whole city down. That seems like just yesterday.”
She nodded practically and backed into her father’s legs. “Well, Daddy says I’m terribly advanced for my age.”
I laughed again as Nick scooped her up with one hand and flicked at the holes in her sweater with a chiding grin. “You are, you little genius. You’re gonna take over the world someday.”
“And who do you suppose she got that from?” Abby teased as she walked over to join us.
Nick threw his daughter a secret wink, pointing toward his own chest, then answered with an obedient, “Why, you, of course, darling.”
The two shared a grinning kiss before Abby knelt down to remove her daughter’s shoes.
Arabella couldn’t have cared less about the process; since the moment she shook my hand, she’d kept her eyes on me. “Do you know Uncle James?”
“I sure do,” I answered with a smile, but then I promptly panicked when I realized further explanation was required. “I’m his, uh...”
“Della is Uncle James’s special friend,” Abby said with a scarcely contained grin.
Arabella’s forehead puckered with a little frown. “Special friend?” she repeated in confusion. “Like me to Max?”
Nick chuckled under his breath, ruffling her golden curls. “More like me to Mommy than you to Max.”
My cheeks heated with flaming red, and I silently prayed that the child wouldn’t demand further elaboration. I knew a curious mind like hers would never settle with that little tidbit, but before she could perform more of her inquisition, her eyes lit up, and she leapt from her father’s arms and cried, “Uncle? Uncle James!”
James paused in surprise halfway down the stairs as the little one darted his way, racing across the checkered tile like her socked feet were on fire. The troubles that plagued him were quickly put away, and by the time she hurled her tiny body in the air, he was a new man.
“Who let you in here?!” he demanded, catching her like a football and tucking her safely under his arm as he descended the remaining stairs. “Don’t we have security? Max, you silly old goat, it’s time you earn your paycheck and get this little monster out of here. Throw her out on the streets.”
A peal of breathless laughter followed his tirade as the child squirmed and wriggled under his arm, pounding her fists against his kneecaps. “You won’t do that,” she shrieked between giggles. “You won’t throw me out on the streets!”