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“Yes.” She crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out the chardonnay. After setting it on the island counter, she collected foil cutters and a wine opener, along with an ice bucket. She added ice to the latter until it was about half-full, then poured in water. Once she’d expertly opened the bottle, she tucked it into the bucket and draped a white linen towel across the top.
“A little boy. Jackson. Summer adores him.” She paused. “I think he’s about eighteen or twenty months. He’s under two for sure.”
“So the pregnancy isn’t Allison’s only complication. He’s probably still in diapers, right?”
She eyed him. “Are you working with Summer to guilt me into doing what she wants?”
His easy smile never wavered. “Not my style. Just gathering information.”
She believed him, but she didn’t like the way the conversation was going. While Allison had many problems, none of them were Erica’s fault.
“I don’t like how much she’s telling Summer,” she admitted. “Yes, they have Peter in common, but Allison’s the adult. She shouldn’t lean on Summer so much.”
“I agree. I’m sure some of it is the shock of the situation.”
“That’s probably true.”
Erica carried the ice bucket into the dining room, then removed the champagne bottle and glasses. When she returned to the kitchen, Killion was plating the scallops, and the dish of risotto sat on a trivet next to the stove.
They carried everything into the dining room and resumed their seats.
“Did you want more children?” he asked, pouring the wine. “Or was one enough?”
She paused to consider the question. “I wanted one for sure. I thought about having more, but I knew my limitations. The business has always taken the bulk of my time and I wanted to be there for my child.”
“Every school event, every big moment.”
“I believe in showing up.”
“And doing the work.”
“It’s the only way to achieve. Or in Summer’s case, have her know that I love her. Words are fine, but in the end, actions matter.”
Which was why she attended every softball game and made sure she and her daughter had dinner together a few times a week. It was why, when she’d been married, she’d cleared her schedule for regular date nights and had made sure to keep track of how often she and Peter made love. So nothing important got forgotten.
She tasted a scallop. “Delicious, as always.”
“Thank you.” He watched her. “You’re lost in thought again.”
“Sorry. Apparently I’m in a mood.”
“I don’t mind. I’m just noting there’s a difference. Thinking of the past?”
“Some. I always knew what I wanted to do with my life. I was going to go to beauty school and business school, then save every penny and buy out my mom.”
“Your first step toward your empire.” His voice was gently teasing.
“It was. In high school, I didn’t want to do the same things as the other girls. Oh, I was happy to play with hair and makeup, but I didn’t spend hours sitting around talking. I had things to do.”
“What about boys?”
“They weren’t interested in me. I was too driven.”
“You scared them.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds awful.”
“You intimidated them,” he amended.
