I make sure to write everything down as he said it, not that I won’t remember the details from our conversation, though. I know deep in my heart that Travis isn’t ready to give up on baseball yet, and I doubt the city of Boston is ready to give up on him either.

“Thank you, Ryan, for meeting with me today.” I stand and shake his hand.

“I have a feeling you’re going to be a good thing for Travis. I look forward to doing a lot of business with you and hope to see you in Florida when I’m there at the end of February.”

“Me too.”

>

No sooner do I step out of Ryan’s office than my phone starts to ring with Travis’s self-chosen ringtone of Aloe Blacc’s “The Man.” Each time I hear it, I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Your timing is perfect. I just walked out of Ryan’s office.”

“You need to get over to Lucy’s school. I came to pick her up, and Elijah is here, demanding that she be released to him.”

“What?” I start to walk a little faster, but it’s not an easy thing to do when you’re wearing heeled boots.

“Irvin is on his way, and the police are here,” Travis tells me.

“Where’s Lucy?”

“Inside the classroom with an aide. Other parents are lingering, and I swear to God, Saylor, they’re taking sides. People are making comments about me, calling me a rapist. I just want to get my daughter so I can take her ice-skating like I fucking promised her this morning. I want out of this goddamn city, Saylor.”

“I know, Travis.” I can hear the desperation in his voice and fear that this is the tipping point. It might be too late to ask for a trade after the meeting I had with Ryan, but it might be my only shot at making him happy. He loves the game, and I can’t see him giving it up so easily. “These parents…they must be friends with the DA or something. Everyone knows you’ve been cleared.”

“Except they’re going to believe what they want.”

Negative public perception is hard to overcome. It’s why publicists work so hard to keep their clients in the limelight doing good deeds. All it takes is one person to destroy someone’s career, and in this case, it seems to be Rachel Ward. I caught Travis looking her up one night. As soon as I saw her picture on his phone, I recognized her immediately and asked him to let the courts decide her punishment. Thing is, though, it takes them seconds to arrest someone on suspicion, but it seems like it takes months to arrest the person who made false claims. That is, if they arrest them at all.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I tell Travis, wishing like hell that I wasn’t on the other side of town.

“I’m not letting him take her,” he says right before he ends our call.

“I know you won’t,” I mumble into my phone as I hurry across the Brookline overpass so I can hail a cab. One stops immediately, and I tell him I’ll double his fare if he would be so kind as to break the speed limit for me.

I keep my phone in my hand, waiting for Travis to call back or text me an update. And even though I know he won’t let anything happen to Lucy, I’m not sure he won’t do anything to Elijah.

“Elijah…” I mutter his name. What the fuck is he thinking, showing up at her school like this? I haven’t heard from him since he threatened me, aside from being served, and our court date is still a few days away. So what’s he doing?

The size of the melee of parents and onlookers gathered in front of Lucy’s school is ridiculous, and they’re spilling out into the streets, preventing the cab from getting any closer. I toss the driver a wad of money before getting out.

My adrenaline spikes as I try to force my way through the crowd. Even as I tell them that I need to get through to save my daughter, very few people move aside. I’m finding it hard to grasp why there are so many people lingering around what is a domestic incident. This many people is never a good thing, especially when half are supporting Travis while the other half are slinging disparaging comments about him.

When I finally break through, I’m stopped by a police officer, and only after I show him my identification does he let me through.

“What are you doing?” I yell at Elijah as I come through the wrought iron gate of the school.

“I’m here to pick up Lucy,” he says, as if this is an everyday occurrence. The man behind him looks at me smugly.

I shake my head, trying to comprehend everything. “On what authority, Elijah? You’re not even listed on her school forms. Her teacher, the principal…no one knows you, and neither does she. You have no right being here.”

“I’m her father,” he roars, and points to the building. “Not that rapist you married, which, let’s get real, Saylor—the only reason you married him is because of his money.”

I shouldn’t be shocked, but I am and can’t prevent my mouth from dropping open. Of course, the other parents lurking around start murmuring, and I hear the words slump-buster and gold digger.

“First of all, Travis is not a rapist, and if you make that accusation again, my client will file a lawsuit so fast your head will spin.” I look to my left to find Irvin standing next to me. “Second, no one is disputing that you’re the sperm donor to Lucy Blackwell, but I’d use the term father very loosely.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Elijah yells out as Irvin approaches him.

“Watch your language, sir. There are children around,” the principal says. I stifle a laugh knowing that Elijah is about to blow a gasket.

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin The Boys of Summer Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net