I’m an actor. It’s what I do.
“Everything OK?” Grace asks.
“Perfect, sweets.” I lean over and kiss her, then drag her up to my chest until she scoots down to lay her head in my lap. “Perfect.” I play with her hair as we make the trip south to the airport where the jet is, and by the time we get there, she’s asleep again.
I carry her to the plane, set her down gently on one of the couches, and then help myself to a beverage as the pilot performs the pre-flight check.
Do I know her, Keefe asked.
Fuck, I wish I could forget her.
I’d do anything to fucking forget that night.