She flicked her turn signal and turned down a smaller road. She made another quick turn and they entered the parking lot of a large, gray, dated building. The complex looked almost industrial, with its repeating rows of identical windows and balconies. Even from this distance, Lance could tell each apartment had the exact same layout.
Paige parked the car and switched off the engine. The parking lot was filled with cars like Paige's: old, rusted, and beat-up. His heart sank. While he'd been living the high life in a million-dollar condo, with his Lambo and all the babes he could ever want?Thiswas Paige and Irie's life.
Damn.
Paige scooped Irie from her car seat and shut the door. “Ready to head in, Lance?”
“Sure.”
He followed Paige's lead.
***
“It's not much,” Paige warned as they entered. She set Irie down and the kid toddled off.
Lance walked in and looked around the apartment, wide-eyed. Brown carpet. Wood-panel walls. Bulky, noisily humming appliances from the '80s,maybe. The whole place just seemed funky and dated.
Okay, it wasn't a third-world hell hole or anything like that. But the idea that, while he was living the rich bachelor life in Boston, he had a daughter he didn't know about? And the mother of his daughter was raising her in this cramped, one bedroom shoebox? And Paige had to wait tables to get by?
It made him sick.
“Are you okay?” Paige asked with a self-conscious laugh. “I'm so embarrassed. I hope you don't think it's gross—”
“I want to help. Let me know how I can help.” He patted his pockets, wondering if his check book was on him. It wasn't.
Paige thought it over, a hand on her hip. “Know how to change a diaper? I think she needs a change.”
Lance swallowed. “Er, no, but I meant—”
“First time for everything,” Paige said, walking off to grab the supplies.
A few minutes later, Lance had changed his first diaper. Changing diapers was one of life's terrifying ordeals that was supposed to intimidate and horrify men—but now that he'd done it, the hockey star felt strangely accomplished and ready for more. If he could dothatwithout a hitch,what else could he do?
He followed Paige into the kitchen, hoping to pitch in. “What else can I do?”
Paige rummaged through the refrigerator. “It'd be great if you could just keep an eye on her. I'll start cooking dinner.”
“Dinner? You sure? I can take us out to eat.”
Eating out was Lance's way of life, after all. Practically every meal he ate was prepared at a restaurant—the only times he ate a home-made meal were when his sister, Ella, cooked for him and Radar. He'd come to expect the women in his life toloveeating out—they loved the excuse to dress up, they loved the fancy restaurants he took them to and how he didn't spare any expense, and most importantly, they loved to simply feelspoiled.
But Paige didn't need much time to think it over. “Hm, no, it'd be easier if I cooked.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. By the time we get there and back, it'll be past Irie's bed time. Plus, it's healthier this way, too.”
“O … kay,” Lance stammered. He wasn't used to an offer to dine out being rejected. “So, what should I do with Irie?”
“Just be with her. That's all. She'll show you what she wants to do. Trust me, it's easy. You'll see.”
Lance left the tiny kitchen and found Irie sitting on the floor, in front of a pile of her books. She moved the books around haphazardly, apparently searching for the one that caught her fancy.
“You want me to read a book to you, baby girl?” Lance cooed, squatting next to her.
He spotted a book with a fluffy dog on the cover; the dog's ears were made out of real velvet, so the child could touch and feel as they read.
“How about this one?Arf Arf,remember?” Lance quietly added, “Plus, it looks like this'll be a sweet tactile experience for you.”
