In fact, I’m on his side on this. I don’t mind Kate doing the shoot with Rory and Sparrow, but I know for certain Kate has no interest beyond the horses. She’s so much like me, it’s hard to remember I adopted her. She has a life plan. She’s got her college all picked out. We’ve had interviews with them. Hell, she’s been working for Ronin in the marketing department for the FoCo Film Festival for two years now. This modeling gig is what cheering at a football game is to Rory. It’s what app development is to Five. It’s the T-ball Starling does, and the riding lessons for Belle and Jasmine. Hobbies.
But Sparrow is strikingly beautiful. She is practically Rook’s twin. If I were Ronin, I’d be worried too. She will be noticed the moment her headshot hits the agencies, if only for who she is. The niece of Antoine Chaput. The daughter of Ronin Flynn.
“Ford?” Ronin asks when I don’t continue. “How do I handle it?”
“I think Rook wants to believe in Sparrow, Ronin. I think Rook knows the two of you started your adult lives the wrong way. You had a rough beginning and then Antoine was not exactly the typical American Dream, right? Erotic modeling? And Rook was married young and had all that drama she needed to get away from. Hell, all of us had unusual opportunities when we were teenagers and we made some bad decisions. So I think Rook looks at Sparrow as an opportunity to do it right. Let her have that. Maybe Sparrow becomes a model, but maybe all she wants is a chance to sit on a horse in thousand-dollar boots and get her picture in a catalog? You won’t have a say in any of it in a few more years. Better to let her figure it out now than take a job when she’s eighteen and unprepared.”
He sighs again. “How did they grow up so fast?”
“God, I have no idea. But I’ve been thinking about it all day. Do you think Ashleigh wants another baby?”
Ronin laughs. “Only for like the past ten years.”
“What?”
“You didn’t notice?” He’s grinning like the old Ronin, the one who has life by the horns and misses nothing. “Didn’t you see the way she looked at Starling when she was born? And the way she looked at Oliver and Ariel. But you guys were the perfect family, right? One boy, one girl, that pack of dogs. What more could you ask for? I mean, Spencer was trying for a boy, but he just had one Princess Shrike after another.”
We both laugh as we picture Spencer with all his little girls. Dressing them up in biker jackets and boots. Making them little Shrike Trikes for Christmas and birthdays. Teaching them how to change the oil while the cameras rolled for the TV show, or choose the right tailpipe for the design he was working on.
“I guess I should give Ash what she needs, right?” I look at Ronin.
He lets out a long breath and looks out the window. “I guess I need to do the same for Rook,” he says back.
We get out of my car and walk up to the massive double front doors to the mansion. “Good talk, man,” Ronin says as I pull one door open.
“Right, good talk.”
We are accosted with the smell of food the second we enter, and then the noise, and my pack of face-eater dogs. Maybe I have so many dogs to take my mind off the children I was afraid to have?
The bustle of the families we’ve created over the years brings me out of my funk and I look around and enjoy it. Spencer is slow-dancing with Ronnie in front of the fireplace. Rook is lining cookies up on the long dining room table so the kids can decorate them like we do every Christmas Eve. And Ashleigh is standing in front of the fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree, backlit by bright lights, watching me come into the fray.
I smile at her as I take off my coat and hang it over a chair in the foyer.
She shrugs, like she’s apologizing for wanting something she shouldn’t.
I walk over and take her hand, give it a kiss. “I missed you today, Mrs. Aston.”
Her face crumples a little and she looks like she
But Sparrow is strikingly beautiful. She is practically Rook’s twin. If I were Ronin, I’d be worried too. She will be noticed the moment her headshot hits the agencies, if only for who she is. The niece of Antoine Chaput. The daughter of Ronin Flynn.
“Ford?” Ronin asks when I don’t continue. “How do I handle it?”
“I think Rook wants to believe in Sparrow, Ronin. I think Rook knows the two of you started your adult lives the wrong way. You had a rough beginning and then Antoine was not exactly the typical American Dream, right? Erotic modeling? And Rook was married young and had all that drama she needed to get away from. Hell, all of us had unusual opportunities when we were teenagers and we made some bad decisions. So I think Rook looks at Sparrow as an opportunity to do it right. Let her have that. Maybe Sparrow becomes a model, but maybe all she wants is a chance to sit on a horse in thousand-dollar boots and get her picture in a catalog? You won’t have a say in any of it in a few more years. Better to let her figure it out now than take a job when she’s eighteen and unprepared.”
He sighs again. “How did they grow up so fast?”
“God, I have no idea. But I’ve been thinking about it all day. Do you think Ashleigh wants another baby?”
Ronin laughs. “Only for like the past ten years.”
“What?”
“You didn’t notice?” He’s grinning like the old Ronin, the one who has life by the horns and misses nothing. “Didn’t you see the way she looked at Starling when she was born? And the way she looked at Oliver and Ariel. But you guys were the perfect family, right? One boy, one girl, that pack of dogs. What more could you ask for? I mean, Spencer was trying for a boy, but he just had one Princess Shrike after another.”
We both laugh as we picture Spencer with all his little girls. Dressing them up in biker jackets and boots. Making them little Shrike Trikes for Christmas and birthdays. Teaching them how to change the oil while the cameras rolled for the TV show, or choose the right tailpipe for the design he was working on.
“I guess I should give Ash what she needs, right?” I look at Ronin.
He lets out a long breath and looks out the window. “I guess I need to do the same for Rook,” he says back.
We get out of my car and walk up to the massive double front doors to the mansion. “Good talk, man,” Ronin says as I pull one door open.
“Right, good talk.”
We are accosted with the smell of food the second we enter, and then the noise, and my pack of face-eater dogs. Maybe I have so many dogs to take my mind off the children I was afraid to have?
The bustle of the families we’ve created over the years brings me out of my funk and I look around and enjoy it. Spencer is slow-dancing with Ronnie in front of the fireplace. Rook is lining cookies up on the long dining room table so the kids can decorate them like we do every Christmas Eve. And Ashleigh is standing in front of the fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree, backlit by bright lights, watching me come into the fray.
I smile at her as I take off my coat and hang it over a chair in the foyer.
She shrugs, like she’s apologizing for wanting something she shouldn’t.
I walk over and take her hand, give it a kiss. “I missed you today, Mrs. Aston.”
Her face crumples a little and she looks like she
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