My mind flashes to her admission from the other night, about her inability to have kids and her shitbag of an ex’s decision about not adopting with her.
Moron.
I shake the thought away as I watch Emily giggling up a storm as Serena’s taco explodes in her hands, sending hot sauce and guac down her chin and hands.
Her idea for the commercial spot is pretty damn good, too - something she filled me in on while we were setting up for dinner prepping. She’s got this whole thing in her head about girls and sports for the spot, and something tells me Emily is going to freak out about being on TV - especially if her new best friend Serena is involved.
Emily dissolves into giggles again as Serena gives her a goofy cross-eyed look, and I can’t help but laugh and shake my head, watching the two of them.
This is pretty damn near perfect.
My phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket, and I slip it out enough to be able to frown at the number.
It’s Kyle, my investigative guy.
“Dad! No phones at dinner!”
“I know, I know,” I stand. “It’s work, I’ll be right back.”
I duck out into the living room before I answer.
“Hey, what’s up, man?”
“Dude, this is getting a little weird,” Kyle says, his voice sounding tired.
I look up, grinning through the doorway into the kitchen at Emily and Serena before I clear my throat. “What do you mean?”
“Those accounts you gave us access to? There are holes, man. Lots of holes.”
I frown. “How so?”
I’ve given Kyle and Silas access to as many corporate and personal accounts of Sam’s as I can, given that I’m in charge of his estate for the time being - all in hopes of finding something that points to how he possible knew Serena.
Kyle sighs heavily “Big, regular withdrawals. Extremely regular.”
I glance up at Serena and my daughter again through the doorway. “What kind of withdrawals? Gambling?”
“Could be, except for…” Kyle trails off. “Except for one thing, Landon.” His voice sounds tight, like he’s holding something back, and I scowl.
“Kyle, if you’ve got something, just get to the point.”
“They’re all going to the same place, Landon.”
“Tell me.”
There’s a frozen moment before he sighs heavily again. “They’re all going to an account opened in one woman’s name twenty-seven years ago.” Kyle clears his throat. “One Celia Roth.”
The floor starts to drop out under my feet as what my buddy is saying slowly starts to sink in. I look up, my eyes locking on the woman sitting in my kitchen with my daughter.
“Wait, what?”
“Celia Roth, Landon. Otherwise known as Serena Roth’s mother.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Landon
Serena helps me put Emily to bed later, and I’m trying the whole time to ignore what I know about her now.
It was wrong to investigate her like this, and it feels like I’ve peeped behind a curtain I never should have.
I don’t know what it means yet that Sam was sending her mom cash every month, but even thinking about it now feels invasive.
Whatever protective shit I felt before about Sam’s legacy just feels like being a prying douchebag now that I had people look into her connection to him.
That’s not my job. My job is to make this team work, and to make sure the board keeps their heads enough to keep things even.
Except she was never part of that plan.
She was never part of the agenda, was never in on my calendar.
She wasn’t part of my rules.
We step out of Emily’s room and close the door. Serena starts to turn to head back to the kitchen.
“I should go.”
I stop her with a hand on her wrist.
“You could stay.”
Fuck the rules.
Fuck the agenda, and fuck the plan.
She meets my eyes, her lip catching between her teeth.
“If you wanted, I mean.”
She wets her lips. “Is that a good idea?”
I pull her against me, loving the way she just fits against me. Her hands go to my chest, her eyes dragging up to mine as my arms circle her. My hand moves to the small of her back, the other moving to her cheek.
“Probably not,” I mutter.
She grins, her eyes flashing as she moves against me there in the hallway.
She nods.
It’s wordless as I turn, taking her hand and pulling her down the hall towards my bedroom. I pull her inside, pulling her against me as I shut the door behind her. It’s still wordless as we stand there face to face in the moonlight and the darkness of the room, eyes flashing at each other.
I reach for her shirt, pulling it out of her skirt and dragging it up her body. She raises her arms, letting me pull it off of her - her hair catching and falling back across her shoulders like a silken ribbon. She reaches back and unclips her bra, shrugging her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor before her hands move to my shirt. She looks up at me, my eyes locked onto hers as she starts to undo my shirt, one button at a time.