“What the fuck are you doing?”
There’s a slapping sound, my car rocking, and I nearly jump out of my seat.
Whit is standing there, bracing the window frame of my car, grinning maniacally.
“Jesus.” I run a hand down the front of my tie. “You about gave me a heart attack.”
“Are you spying out here, Donato? Seriously?” He pushes away from my car and rounds the front of it, opening the passenger side door and slipping inside. “Close the window. It’s fucking hot.”
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I start the car and hit the button to shut the window. I hate that I automatically did his bidding, but it’s as if the need to please a Lancaster is bred within me. I’ve been doing it for years.
Old habits are hard to break.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him as he taps away on his phone. “And who are you texting?”
If he says his mother, I’m going to fucking lose it and start swinging. I don’t care if he is my best friend.
“I’m texting my cousin Grant.” He taps at the screen for a few seconds more before I hear the telltale swoosh of a text being sent. “The real question is what the hell are you doing here? Lurking outside my mother’s building?”
I don’t want to answer. I’ll sound like I’ve lost my damn mind, especially when we already have hired PIs spying on her.
“Come on, Spence. Be real with me. Are you waiting for my mother to magically appear?” I keep sulking, not saying a word, and he eventually scoffs. “Fine. Don’t answer me. I already know what you’re doing, and I get it. I do. My mother is completely untrustworthy. But hanging out in front of where she lives in the hopes of, I don’t know, talking to her, isn’t the best move.”
“I want to keep her away from Sylvie,” I admit.
I can feel Whit’s eyes on me as I stare straight ahead, watching as the door opens and an elderly gentleman with a very young woman on his arm come walking out.
“Don’t you think the best way to keep her from Sylvie is to be with Sylvie, always?”
He’s right. I know he is. But I don’t want to be agreeable. I’m pissed. Frustrated. “I can’t be with her at all times.”
“You could be with her right now,” he suggests, sounding so frustratingly logical, I want to punch him in his smug face.
Instead, I scrub my hand across my face. “What are you doing here?”
“Meeting with her. She asked me to come over. I know it’s about the baby.” He blows out an exaggerated breath. “She’s been upset we don’t let her spend time with Augie, and now with another baby coming, she’s going to whine and try to wheedle her way back into our lives.”
“Are you going to let her?”
“No. Summer refuses. Especially since we’re having a daughter.” He sends me a look. “Now that it’s been confirmed what my mother did to Sylvie, Summer is adamant that Grandma dearest doesn’t get near our children.”
“I don’t blame her. But why are you listening to your mother plead her case when you’ve already made up your mind?”
“I want to hear what she has to say. What kind of lies she’ll tell to get me to agree. She’s a master of manipulation, but I’ve been on to her game since I was like…thirteen. I see right through it, unlike some people. Namely, my sister.”
“I asked her to marry me,” I admit, my voice low.
The surprised look on Whit’s face is almost comical. “No shit? What did she tell you?”
“She said yes.”
“Well, hell.” He grins. “Welcome to the family. You’re crazy for wanting to be a part of this.”
“I’m in love with her.” God, I sound like I’m in pain and maybe I am. I love Sylvie so damn much it hurts. That’s why I’m sitting in front of her mother’s high-rise, hoping to catch a glimpse of her like a crazy man. What would I do if I saw her?
Shit, I don’t know. Confront her? Tell her to back the fuck off? Tell her I’ll end her if I catch her near Sylvie?
Threats aren’t smart. I know they’re not. But that’s all I want to do when I think of Sylvia coming near Sylvie.