Emma swallowed, stunned by his perception. ‘She did speak to me. She called me this morning.’
Larenzo nodded. ‘And did she tell you to go back?’
‘No, but you’re right, she’s not happy I’m here.’ She thought of mentioning the lawyer, and then decided against it. She didn’t want to make Larenzo angry, or worse, to hurt him, with such information, and she had a feeling it would. This man who seemed so proud and arrogant and untouchable hid a surprising vulnerability.
‘I can understand your sister’s point of view,’ he said, and Emma raised her eyebrows.
‘Can you?’
‘Of course. If I were your sister, I would be wary too. But I hope she will realise in time that you are in no danger. I hope you realise that too.’
‘I do realise it, Larenzo.’ Guilt lashed her that he would believe she still doubted him. ‘I’m sorry I keep questioning you.’
‘It’s understandable,’ Larenzo answered wearily. ‘This is a difficult situation for all of us, but for you in particular.’
‘Thank you for acknowledging that.’
He nodded, and Emma felt they’d come to a truce, and even an understanding. She took a deep breath and then bent to scoop up Ava, who had started to grizzle.
‘I should start making dinner. I didn’t realise how late it had become, when I was in the park.’ Which was, she supposed, a sort of apology.
‘I’ll watch this one while you do it,’ Larenzo said and, in a gesture that felt both bizarre and natural, Emma handed over Ava, who went willingly to her father.
* * *
Over the next few weeks Emma settled into a new routine that felt both comfortable and strange. Larenzo worked most days, and, after seeing to her housekeeping duties, Emma spent the days with Ava exploring the city. The autumn days continued crisp and clear and she enjoyed getting out and walking through the park, going to the Children’s Museum, which Ava loved, and visiting the local shops. She’d even signed Ava up for a toddler gymnastics class, and she’d met a few other mothers at the local library’s story hour. It might not have seemed much to most people, but she was more active and involved here than she’d been in her months at Meghan’s.
She also developed a routine with Larenzo. An early riser, he usually got up with Ava while Emma had the unimagined luxury of a lie-in, and then they all had breakfast together in the sun-filled kitchen before Larenzo went to work. He came home no later than six or six-thirty each weekday night, and they had dinner together before bathing Ava and reading her stories, a precious hour spent as a family. Because they were a family, even if it was unexpected and unconventional. Sitting on the sofa, their daughter between them, trying to race through reading a board book before Ava tossed it to the floor, comprised some of the happiest moments Emma had ever known, and yet they also felt tenuous. Fragile. She wondered how long this ‘sort of’ family could really last.
At first, when Ava was asleep, they went their separate ways in the apartment. Larenzo would work in his study and Emma would read or watch TV in her room. Then one night, a week or so after she’d arrived, restlessness drove her out of her bedroom to the living room, where she scanned the shelves of expensive leather-bound books.
Larenzo came out of the kitchen, stopping when he saw her. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yes, basically.’ Emma glanced over her shoulder, her mouth drying at the sight of Larenzo in faded jeans and a T-shirt, his feet bare, his hair rumpled. He looked jaw-droppingly gorgeous and just the sight of him made her belly swoop. She’d thought in the weeks since she’d been here she’d get used to seeing him, but nothing ever prepared her for the devastating sight of him, or her body’s unstoppable reaction.
He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for more, and Emma let out a little laugh. ‘I’m just kind of bored.’
‘Why don’t you go out, see a film?’
‘By myself?’
‘You once told me you liked your own company,’ Larenzo reminded her.
‘I know,’ Emma admitted. ‘I just don’t feel like it tonight.’ She was tired of being alone. Spending time with Larenzo had made her realise how wonderful and invigorating and fun company could be. His company.
‘Well, then.’ Larenzo shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked on his heels. ‘How about a game of chess?’
Remembrance rippled through her as she thought of the last game they’d played, that night in Sicily. The expectation and awareness that had tautened between them...