Sugar Daddy(217)

"He said that?" I was flattered and pleased.

"And," Carrington continued, "he said I shouldn't take you for granted, because lots of girls your age would've put me in foster care when Mama died." She laid her head on my chest. "Did you think about doing that, Liberty?"

"Never," I said firmly. "Not for one second. I loved you too much to give you up. I want you in my life forever." I bent and snuggled her close.

"Liberty?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"Yes, baby?"

"What were you and Gage doing in the butler's pantry?"

I jerked my head back, looking, I was sure, as guilty as hell. "You saw him?"

Carrington nodded innocently. "He left the kitchen a minute ago. It looked like he was sneaking out."

"I—I think he was trying to give us some privacy," I said unsteadily.

"Were you arguing with him about the zip line?"

"Oh, we were just chatting. That's all. Just a chat." Blindly I headed for the refrigerator. "I'm hungry. Let's have a snack."

Gage disappeared for the rest of the day. having suddenly remembered a few urgent errands that would occupy him indefinitely. I was relieved. I needed some time to think about what had happened and how I was going to react to it.

According to Churchill's book, the best way to deal with a strategic inflection point is to move quickly past denial into acceptance of change, and plan your strategy for the future. After considering everything carefully. I decided the kiss with Gage had been a moment of insanity, and he probably regretted it. Therefore, the best strategy was to pretend nothing had happened. I was going to be calm, relaxed, and impersonal.

I was so determined to show Gage how unaffected I had been by the whole thing, to amaze him with my cool sophistication, that it was a letdown when Jack arrived in the morning. Balefully Jack said Gage had given him no advance notice, just called him at the crack of dawn and said to get his ass over to help Dad, he couldn't make it.

"What's so all-fired important he couldn't be bothered to come over here?" Churchill asked testily. As much as Jack didn't want to be there helping him. Churchill didn't want him there even more.

"He's flying up to New York to visit Dawnelle," Jack said. "He's going to take her out after the shoot at Demarchelier."

"Just took off with no notice?" Churchill scowled until his forehead was starred with tiny indentations. "Why the hell's he doing that? He was supposed to meet with the Canadians from Syncrude today." Churchill's eyes narrowed dangerously. "He better not have taken the Gulfstream without one damn word of advance notice or I'll fry his—"

"He didn't take the Gulfstream."

The information mollified Churchill. "Good. Because I told him the last time—"

"He took the Citation," Jack said.

While Churchill growled and reached for his cell phone, I carried the breakfast tray downstairs. It was ridiculous, but the news that Gage had gone to New York to be with his girlfriend had hit me like a gut punch. A great smothering dullness settled over me as I thought of Gage with beautiful whippet-framed Dawnelle, she of the straight blond hair and big perfume contract. Of course he would go to her. I was nothing to him but a momentary impulse. A whim. A mistake.

I was brimming with jealousy, sick with it. over the worst person I could have picked to be jealous of. I couldn't believe it. Stupid, I told myself angrily, stupid, stupid. But knowing that didn't seem to make things any better.

For the rest of the day I made violent resolutions and promises to myself. I tried to drive thoughts of Gage out of my mind by dwelling on the subject of Hardy, the love of my life, who had meant more to me than Gage Travis ever would...Hardy, who was sexy, charming, unreserved, as opposed to Gage, the arrogant, annoying asshole.

But even thinking about Hardy didn't work. So I concentrated on fanning the flames of Churchill's temper by mentioning Gage and the Citation at every possible opportunity. I hoped Churchill would descend on his oldest son like a plague of Egypt.

To my disappointment. Churchill's temper vanished after they talked on the phone. "New development in the works with Dawnelle," Churchill reported complacently. I wouldn't have believed it possible, but my mood plummeted further. That could mean only one thing—Gage was asking her to move in with him. Maybe he was even proposing to her.

After working all day and helping Carrington practice her soccer moves outside, I was exhausted. More than that, I was depressed. I was never going to find anyone. I was going to spend the rest of my life sleeping single in a double bed until I was a cranky old woman who did nothing but water the plants, talk about the neighbors, and take care of her ten cats.