Chương 2
Damian closed his fingers around the ring.
Malcolm stepped between them with the careful authority of someone accustomed to controlling damage. “Mr. Cross has a private office on this floor. We can arrange refreshments while counsel is contacted.”
“I don’t need refreshments,” Naomi said.
Lily lifted her head. “I do.”
For the first time, a sound almost like laughter moved through Naomi’s throat. It died quickly.
“What do you want?”
“Hot chocolate.”
“There’s a shock.”
“Not the powder kind.”
Damian looked toward Marlene.
“I’ll make it,” she said.
Malcolm opened his mouth.
Damian cut him off. “No counsel yet.”
“That is not advisable.”
“Neither was announcing paternity in front of two hundred people.”
“You’re aware of that, then.”
Damian’s gaze sharpened. For an instant, the old authority returned, clean and cold. “Clear the ballroom, Malcolm.”
The guests departed through side doors in subdued clusters. Some avoided Damian’s eyes. Others looked at Lily too long. A woman who had stopped with her glass near her lips set it on a passing tray without drinking. The room gradually emptied, leaving behind abandoned napkins, half-finished champagne, and the sweet, stale smell of cut flowers warmed beneath chandeliers.
Damian led Naomi and Lily to a wood-paneled office behind the ballroom. Lily walked beside Naomi, not him. The rabbit’s torn ear bounced against her arm, and the faded thread dragged from the seam.
Marlene arrived with hot chocolate in a white porcelain cup. She set it before Lily and added a smaller dish of whipped cream.
Lily studied it suspiciously. “Is there powder in it?”
“No,” Marlene said. “There is an unreasonable amount of melted chocolate.”
Lily tasted it. Some tension left her shoulders.
Damian remained on the other side of the desk. The office had belonged to his father when the Cross family still owned the hotel outright. Damian had preserved the dark shelves and brass lamps even after selling the property, partly from sentiment and partly because he disliked admitting that the room made him uneasy.
Naomi removed her coat. Beneath it, she wore hospital scrubs and a gray sweatshirt.
“You came from work,” Damian said.
“I came from a twelve-hour shift. Lily was with my sister. She found the invitation in Evelyn’s papers while we were sorting documents.”
Lily stared into the cup.
Naomi continued. “Your face was on it. She asked if this was where you would be.”
“You knew who I was?”
“I knew your name. Evelyn didn’t tell me the rest until last month.”
Damian opened his hand. The ring lay against his palm. “May I ask Lily to explain what her mother told her?”
“You can ask. She can decide.”
He moved around the desk but stopped several feet from the child. Lowering himself onto a chair, he rested his forearms on his knees so he would not tower over her.
“Lily?”
She scraped whipped cream from the cup with a spoon.
“Mom said not to give you the ring unless I could look you in the eyes.”
“Why?”
“To see if you lied.”
The answer landed with such precision that Damian’s fingers tightened.
“What lie was she worried about?”
Lily’s spoon stopped. “That you didn’t know her.”
“I knew her.”
“For how long?”
“Four years.”
“Were you married?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you come when she was sick?”
Naomi looked away.
Damian heard the hum of the small refrigerator beneath the sideboard. Somewhere beyond the office wall, banquet staff rolled glassware across the ballroom floor.
“I didn’t know she was sick,” he said.
Lily watched him carefully. “Did you know about me?”
“No.”
She searched his face for several seconds. “Mom said you would say that.”
Damian’s jaw moved. “Did she say whether it was true?”
“She said I had to decide.”
Naomi placed a brown document envelope on the desk. The paper was creased and softened from being handled.
“Evelyn left instructions,” she said. “There’s a copy of Lily’s birth certificate, the temporary care authorization she signed before she died, medical information, school records, and a letter for you. Her attorney has the originals.”
“Attorney?”
“Legal aid. Don’t look so surprised. Poor people occasionally manage paperwork.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
Damian accepted the rebuke without answering.
“Lily’s birth certificate lists no father,” Naomi continued. “Evelyn didn’t make a formal paternity claim. She also did not name you in the temporary care document. I can make medical and school decisions for now, but it isn’t permanent. Child services has already been notified of her death. We have an appointment Monday.”
Damian glanced at Lily.
She had begun pulling loose threads from one of the rabbit’s paws.
“What did Eva want?”
Naomi nodded toward the envelope. “Read the letter.”
He did not touch it. “Did she want Lily to live with me?”
“That is not the first question you should ask.”
“It’s a necessary one.”
“It’s the question powerful people ask when they think a person has become property.”
Damian leaned back. His voice stayed controlled, but the skin around his eyes tightened. “A seven-year-old child has lost her mother. Her legal situation is uncertain. I am asking what Eva intended.”
“She intended for Lily to be safe.”
“With whom?”
“With someone who doesn’t hear the word daughter and immediately start measuring possession.”
Lily looked from one adult to the other. “You’re doing the thing.”
Naomi stopped. “What thing?”
“The polite fighting.”
Damian rubbed his thumb across the wedding ring. “She’s right.”
“I know she’s right.”
“Then perhaps we can postpone it.”
“You’re the one asking about custody ten minutes after meeting her.”
“And you’re the one assuming I intend to take her from you.”
Naomi’s mouth opened, then closed.
Lily took another sip. “Still doing it.”
This time Damian almost smiled. The expression vanished before it fully formed.
He placed the ring on the desk, close to Lily but not so close that it might appear he was surrendering it without care.
May you like
“Your mother’s letter can wait,” he said. “Tell me what you need tonight.”
Lily touched the rabbit’s torn ear. “I need Mr. Gray fixed.”
