Page 56 of His Daughter

Silence. One beat. Two. Then Lorraine Calloway came alive. "Oh! Baby! That's wonderful! Oh my god, tell me everything. What's his name? What does he do? How long have you been… Oh, Thea, this is amazing. We should all go to dinner tonight! A double date! Ray and I, you and your new man."

I groaned. "Sure."

"Where should we meet? We can come to you. Give me the address, and we'll all head out together."

I gave her the penthouse address. Then I hung up. What did I just do?

The penthouse smelled like the rosemary chicken Mrs. Parrish left in the oven. Declan was in the kitchen, jacket off, sleeves rolled, scrolling through his phone with one hand and eating an apple with the other. Mrs. Parrish was gathering her things by the door. The night nurse was with Lena in the nursery — I could hear the soft, tinny sound of the musical mobile through the wall.

I set my bag on the counter. Declan looked up. The apple was halfway to his mouth.

"I need to tell you something."

He set the apple down. "That's never a good opening."

"My mother is in town. She called me today." I pressed my hands flat on the counter. "I told her I was seeing someone, I told her that someone was you, and I told her we'd go to dinner tonight. As a couple."

Declan looked at me. The silence lasted three seconds. Then the grin started — slow, spreading, and he laughed. "A double date with your mother."

I groaned. I seemed to have been doing that all day. "Don't make this worse."

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. The grin was devastating. "I'll help, but you owe me a kiss at the end of the night." He held up one finger. "And I'm collecting."

"This is serious."

"I know." He was still grinning. "I'm still collecting."

I wanted to be annoyed. I couldn't get there.

I hurried to the room to change. I picked out a simple black dress. Then I went to the nursery. Dominique was standing by the crib, watching Lena. Lena was in the crib, awake, her blue eyes tracking the mobile above her — small felt stars that rotated slowly.

"I've got her," I told Dominique. "Take a break."

I picked Lena up. She grabbed my collar immediately. I sat in the rocking chair with the bottle warming in the cup on the side table. When it was ready, I pressed it to the inside of my wrist, tested it, and brought it to Lena's mouth. She latched on and drank.

I kissed her forehead. The warm, soft skin. The faint smell of chamomile. She was almost finished with the bottle when Declan appeared in the doorway.

He was dressed in a charcoal suit, no tie, and a pale-blue shirt open at the collar. His hair was pushed back, but the lock at the front was already falling. He leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets and looked at us.

Our eyes met over Lena's head. I handed Lena to Dominique. We confirmed the numbers — pediatrician, concierge, both our cells. Lena was settled.

The buzzer rang.

I pressed the intercom. "Send them up."

The elevator opened, and my mother walked into the penthouse as if onto a stage.

She was in a red wrap dress and heels, her brown hair blown out, gold earrings catching the light. "Oh, Thea." She pressed both hands to her chest. "Baby."

Ray followed behind her. Mid-fifties, salt-and-pepper hair, khaki pants, a well-fitting blue blazer. Pleasant face.

She squeezed me tight, then held me at arm's length, and looked me over. "You look thin. Are you eating?"

"I'm eating."

"She cooks every day," Declan said, appearing beside me. He extended his hand to Ray first. "Declan Hale. Good to meet you."

"Ray Sutton." He gestured around. "Nice place you've got here."