Page 20 of Tangled in Temptation

She shook her head. “That has nothing to do with it. She likes to play the ‘sad single mom’ card to find boyfriends. She wouldn’t let me go. I’m an accessory. All of my friends told me that. They used to tease me about it.”

My heart sank, the revelation unveiling a deeper layer of the toxic dynamic that she was dealing with. “Paisley, what can I do to make things easier for you?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the floor. “I want to stay. I want you to adopt me. I don’t want to live with Mom or go to the boarding school again. I hate my stepfather, and he does not like me. That’s why they keep shipping me away.”

The gravity of her words hung in the air. “Paisley, I can’t just adopt you. It’s not that simple. I told you how many times I tried to do it before. No judge is going to take you away from your birth mother and give you to me. I know you don’t think she loves you, but she does. She has a funny way of showing it, but she does. And she does take care of you. You want for nothing. You have a roof over your head. Yes, you are lacking her attention, but I can’t go to a judge and show mistreatment of any kind.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, desperation written all over her face. “Then I’ll emancipate myself from Mom and run away. I can’t go back there, Timothy. I can’t. If I can’t live here, I’m going to leave. She won’t see me ever again.”

The severity of the situation hit me like a punch to the gut. “I’m so sorry, Paisley. I’ll talk to your mom and see if you can stay for the remainder of the summer, like we planned. Maybe that will give her some more time to think about things. I’ll keep trying to work on her. I’m not great at trying to convince her because we just have such a hard time communicating.”

“No one can communicate with her,” she muttered. “She fights with him all the time, too.”

“Your stepdad?”

She nodded. “I don’t even think they like each other.”

That was probably truer than she knew. Regina had a funny way of turning on a man after she got the ring on her finger and a guarantee she was going to get half of everything. I wouldn’t doubt if she was already working on her exit plan.

“I’ll talk to her,” I promised. “In the meantime, try not to worry.”

I got up from the chair and gave her a quick hug. “It’s a nice day out; you should go for a swim.”

“Maybe,” she sighed and flopped back onto the bed.

I left her room and walked down the hallway to my office. I knew one person that might be able to talk to Paisley and keep her from doing anything drastic.

I shut my office door and pulled out my phone. “Hey, Catherine, it’s me. I’ve got a little bit of a situation. Can you come over? I need your help with Paisley. I’m starting to get really worried about her.”

“I’m on my way,” Catherine replied without hesitation.

Chapter Ten

Catherine

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MY CELL PHONE BUZZED on the kitchen counter while I was carefully staining the cabinet. I saw Timothy’s name on the screen and wanted to ignore it. The yo-yo thing was not healthy.

But I picked it up anyway.

“Hello?” I answered irritably.

“Hey, Catherine, it’s me.” Timothy’s familiar voice sent a line of tension straight through my shoulders. “I’ve got a little bit of a situation. Can you come over? I need your help with Paisley. I’m starting to get really worried about her.”

Without hesitation, I was on my feet and reaching for my purse. Timothy wouldn’t call for help unless it was serious. “I’m on my way,” I assured him.

I parked my truck and hopped out. Timothy was waiting for me in the doorway. I approached, taking stock of the situation. He looked like the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. His exhaustion tugged at my heart, eclipsing the thoughts that had occupied my mind all morning about the events that transpired last night. I had been furious with him, but looking at him now, all I felt was empathy.

“Hi,” he said. “Thank you for coming right over. It’s not an emergency—yet, but I’m worried it could be.”

“Let’s go out to the garden,” I suggested, understanding there was a story that needed to be told. I had been trying to help without having all the information.

We wound our way along one of the garden paths and took a seat on one of the benches surrounded by perfectly pruned rose bushes and manicured shrubs.

“Tell me about you and Paisley,” I said. “Please, start from the beginning.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on some distant point. “It’s a messy story, Catherine.”