Emotional Turmoil - Page 2

“You think you can go on like nothing happened? Just pretend I don’t exist for your convenience?”

“Of course, not. I just don’t want to play Jerry Springer with you at the dance studio on a school night.”

“A school night, as in, my children are in school. I never even knew I had them and now they need to go home and be put to bed—” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Bath time first,” she corrected, “I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow and figure out how to handle it. I don’t think walking up to a couple of five-year-olds as a total stranger and going, ‘Hi, I’m your dad,’ is the best way to go about it,” her voice was desperate, pleading, but she didn’t care. She’d do anything on earth to get to walk out of this building with both her kids, load them in the van and go home, have a normal night and think about all this hell tomorrow. Because all hell was about to break loose. She could feel the fear riding in her gut. She had to get the kids out of there. How would she explain a huge fight breaking out in the audience?

He was a good guy, he just had a great deal of influence and she had pissed him off. It wasn’t smart to hang around for him to process this information and formulate a reaction. Because chances are, it would be explosive. So she’d talk to him tomorrow when they’d both had a chance to cool down and think about it. When she wasn’t so eager to flee from a public place and he was, hopefully, less determined to lay claim to his children.

“Here, before we do anything else, let me introduce you to Madame Giselle, Corinne’s dance instructor. We really must tell her how wonderful the recital was. She’s put a lot of work in on it,” Bella pulled on his arm, and he allowed her to steer him to the side of an artistically dressed older woman with a voluminous floral scarf trailing from her hair.

“Ah, Madame, the show was brilliant!” Bella said, giving her a double air kiss and introducing Harvey. “This is my good friend, and keen patron of the arts, Harvey Carlson. Harvey, this is the legendary Madame Giselle, headmistress of this dance school.”

“Please, please, ‘L’ecole des danseuses!’ But now you must allow me to show you; you mus

t discover the magnificent history of this place…” The woman corrected in poorly accented French, seizing Harvey’s arm and leading him—as Bella had known she would—toward the wall where photos of her own dance triumphs and all the past recitals were displayed. That was good for fifteen minutes at least, ten if he were outright rude. And he was never rude. She sighed, hustled backstage and thrust a bouquet into Corinne’s hands, kissing her and whipping out her phone to take pictures. She wrested the tablet away from Caden and rushed them both toward the van

She was scared, there was no getting around it. She was scared and wanted her kids out of this damn parking lot. He wouldn’t come beat on the door and wake them. He wasn’t uncivilized. A quick escape would buy her time until tomorrow. Not that she’d sleep, of course, because her entire world was crumbling, but she’d breathe easier with her babies in their own beds, their world unchanged for the moment.

With both kids in their boosters and Caden switching between demanding the tablet back so he could finish a level on his game and complaining that his sister’s ‘stupid flowers’ were in his face, she drove back home. Her hands were shaking. She was sweating. Her smile was too bright, her voice too chipper as she shepherded her twins inside to put them in a bath, and then pajamas. And that’s when she saw a man in the shadows sitting on her porch. She peered closer. It wasn’t Harvey, just Max. She let out a sigh of relief.

Chapter 2

Bella came home to Max waiting for her on her porch. He had a big smile on his face the second her gaze connected with his.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hey, Max,” she said.

“I just got here a few minutes ago.”

Maria looked at her. “I’m going to take the kids inside and start their baths.”

“I’ll be right in,” Bella said.

“I thought you’d be here by now,” Max said. “Where were you?”

“It’s a long story.”

“You’re mad at me. I can tell by the look on your face.”

“It’s not you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the ballet, but I was so busy at work. And I’m not really good with kids. If you give me another chance, I’ll make it up to you, and…Carrie…and Kyle.”

How could he not know their names by now? Granted he never ever spent time with them, but he should know their names! If she was important to him, he’d know her kids names.

She shook her head. “I have a lot of my mind. It’s all so overwhelming. I feel like I’m sinking.”

“What’s wrong? Is it us? Because I’ll try to do better.”

“No, it’s not us. I had a run-in with the father of the twins. He’s not too happy with me right now to say the least.”

He let out a long breath. “Is this ex bullshit? Because I really don’t want to hear about your ex. Or your custody battles.”

“I’ve never told you about him once.”

“It’s drama I don’t want to deal with after the kind of day I’ve just had. Just get it straightened out, and please don’t fill me in on all the details.”

Tags: Sierra Rose Billionaire Romance
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