“Come on, Lily” Stephanie held
out her hand and grasped Lily’s little fingers.
“Let’s go find daddy and see if he’s ready to go.” Lily danced alongside her mother as they
headed down the hall. Their suitcases
were packed and waiting by the front door.
All they needed was Richie and they could head off to the airport and
their flight to New Jersey. They were
dropping Lily off to Richie’s mom before backtracking to Kentucky for the
Derby.
They found Richie in his music
room/office on the phone with his trusty notebook open in front of him. Before Stephanie could stop her, Lily
wriggled her fingers out of her mother’s grasp and hurtled herself across the
room and into Richie’s lap.
“Daddy!”
He grunted when one of Lily’s
sneaker-clad feet connected with his shin as she climbed up on him. “I’ll call you later, Ori.” He hissed out a painful curse when that same
shoe connected high on the inside of his thigh as she settled on his lap. Fuck. “Take a look at what I sent you and we’ll
talk about it later.” He listened for
another minute before disconnecting the call.
He tucked the phone into his shirt pocket with one hand and snagged his
pencil with the other before Lily could graffiti all over his notebook.
“It’s time a go, daddy.” Lily turned her big brown eyes up to her
father. “Time a go plane.”
Stephanie sighed inwardly when
she realized who he had been on the phone with.
Why does he talking with that
woman bother me so much? There was
just something about him working with, talking to, spending time with Orianthi
that just didn’t sit right with her. She
glanced down at Lily sitting on his lap and then back up at him. She needed to get over it. They were just working together. Nothing more.
She shifted her thoughts, “sorry,
I didn’t think you’d still be on the phone.”
Richie waved her off, “no
problem. We were mostly finished
anyway.” He looked down and frowned,
Lily had found a pen when he wasn’t looking.
Her scribbles decorated more than one page of his notebook. He gently pried the writing instrument from
her fingers, “daddy, I coloring!” Her
little mouth turned into a pout. “I not
done yet!”
He tucked the pen, pencil and
notebook into his messenger bag. “Oh yes
you are baby girl. It’s time to go,
isn’t it?” he reminded her.
Coloring forgotten, she shifted
on his lap and wriggled down, stepping on her father’s sock clad foot in her
haste. “Yea, let’s go!” She marched across the room toward her
mother, “come on mama” she grabbed her mother’s fingers and tried to pull her
out the door.
Stephanie looked at Richie and
winced, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He stood and grabbed his bag, “maybe I’ll let
you kiss the bruises better later.”
“Daddy, Mama!” Lily hollered from the hallway.
Stephanie rolled her eyes and
stepped out into the hall, “I’m not kissing your foot.”
He followed close behind, his
breath ruffling her hair as he leaned in so little ears couldn’t hear, “I have
others that need some TLC.”
Turning, she smothered her laugh
and ran her hand teasingly up the inside of his thigh as Lily yelled for them once
more. “I’ll kiss your boo boos
later. But we’d better go now before she
screams the house down.”
QQQQQQ
“Sweetheart,” he called toward
the bathroom “are you about ready?’” He
slipped his arms into his jacket and shrugged it over his shoulders. “I don’t want to be late.” It was Derby Day and he was anxious to get
going. He wanted to get a look at the
horses, place his bets and just take in the atmosphere of Churchill Downs. He was still on a little adrenaline high from
last night if he was being honest. The
Barnstable Brown Gala had been last night and he had played to a very
enthusiastic crowd before relinquishing his guitar to others to play. The one-of-a-kind instrument, designed by
him, was auctioned off to the highest bidder and raised over $30,000 for
diabetes research. Residual excitement
had his fingers fidgeting with the urge to play.
Stepping in front of the mirror
he ran those fidgety digits through his hair and straightened his jacket. “Sweetheart,” he started again and then
stopped when he caught her reflection as she stepped from the bathroom.
She tucked a stray strand of hair
behind her ear as she moved across the room.
She had wound her hair up in a low bun at her nape and a few rogue
strands just didn’t want to cooperate. “I
just need my shoes, and my hat.”
He turned and whistled low, “Once
again, darlin’, you look amazing.” She
had stolen his breath last night with her magenta gown and now, with this
dress, he was going to be the envy of the Derby.
She stopped in the act of getting
her shoes from their bag and turned to look at him. “Thank you.” The Dolce and Gabbana sheath was everything
she had remembered it being when she had tried it on at the store. “I had a good time shopping for this trip.”
He smiled, flashing his dimples at
her. “I’ll say you did. I’m glad we’re leaving tomorrow though. I’m not sure my heart can take another get up
like this.” He took the few steps to
close the distance between them. He
skimmed his fingers lightly along her cheek, tucking another stubborn strand of
hair behind her ear. “It’s a shame you
put your hair up again though. You know
how I like it all wild and curling around your shoulders.”
She turned her head and pressed
her lips against his palm. “I know you
do, but up like this will be better with my hat.”
Reaching around him she lifted
the lid of the hat box and drew out her hat.
In contrast to her dress, the straw hat was white and trimmed with a deep
grape/purple organza band and oversized bow.
The black feathers and the fact that the large purple and grape flowers
perfectly matched the color of the flowers on her dress had sold her on
it. It might not “match” the dress
exactly, but it certainly went “with” the entire look she had put together.
Stepping around him, she stood in
front of the mirror and settled the hat at a slight angle on her head and
secured it with a hat pin, an accessory that Jeanine told her was an absolute must
have. Slipping her feet into her black
peep toe pumps she turned back, raising her head slightly to peer at him from
under the brim of her hat. “So, do I
look Derby ready?”
He reached out and ran his
fingertip lightly around the brim of her hat and adjusted it ever so slightly
before taking her hand in his. “I’m not
sure I’m Derby ready now, darlin’. You
look incredible. I think I need to step
up my game.”
She smiled and picked up her
purse, “you always look good, Rich. And I
think that’s probably my favorite hat of yours.” In his free hand was his Stetson with the
hammered silver band. It always struck a
chord with her.
Settling the hat on his head, he
tipped it toward her, “thank you darlin’.”
He offered his harm, “shall we?”
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