Ella read it, her insides tightening. Jordan. One simple word. A girl’s name in script with a small blue butterfly landing on the top of the n. He’d already admitted the only time he’d ever come close to having a real relationship had been with Bianca. Her mind worked fast to try and remember any accounts of a Jordan in all the stories she’d read of him. Maybe. There were so many reports and sightings of him with different girls. Many of them couldn’t even be confirmed if they were actual love interests, just friends, or even business acquaintances. Like the ones she’d seen of him and Drew talking behind the scenes at a charity event last year sometime. After reading that one, she’d decided she couldn’t trust any of the stories because that one claimed Drew was a backup singer for Celine Dion. Not even close.

If the tattoo hadn’t squashed the anticipation of going another round when he woke, what she felt when she slid off the chaise and stood did. She remembered feeling sore after her very first time with Grayson, but this was different. As she took a few steps toward the doorway, she could feel just how different. She was now paying the price for her eagerness and wanting him so deep inside her.

Standing in the huge hallway just outside the library door, she slipped on her panties and Felix’s shirt she’d grabbed off the floor. Of course, it smelled amazing just like him, and she wondered if she could persuade him to let her keep it. She’d likely never wash it.

As she walked down the hall, she wondered which way was the bathroom. She remembered passing one downstairs, so she headed that way instead. After using it and adjusting her clothes, she started back toward the stairs then stopped when she glanced at the mantel with the photos she’d begun to look through earlier.

Ella bit her lower lip and looked up then back at the mantel. There was still no movement at all from upstairs. Giving into the temptation, she started toward the mantel, practically tiptoeing. She glanced at the photo of him and little Gio again and smiled, but her eyes were quickly on the one she really wanted to look at. It was of a baby in an incubator. Ella stared at the odd small piece of white tape over the glass on the frame just over where the card that normally displays the baby’s last name on the incubator would be. Someone had written Sanchez on the tape.

There was another photo next to it. That one was of Felix holding the baby in his arms and kissing him or her on the forehead. Felix wore scrubs, and the baby was full of tubes, but he didn’t look as tiny as a preemie. The baby looked normal-sized for a newborn.

A third and smaller photo was a hospital portrait, like the many she’d seen of babies first photos taken in the hospital. In that photo, the baby didn’t have any tubes and looked to be sleeping soundly, but the quote above the photo said otherwise.

In the company of Angels

At the bottom of the photo, it said baby, and again, just over the glass, there was an odd little piece of tape where someone had written Sanchez. Only this one looked to be half off.

“Baby Sanchez,” Ella whispered, her heart aching for Felix.

Ella thought of the endless articles she had to sift through of the Gio-Bianca-Felix love-triangle scandal. She remembered the stories of the girl he’d gotten pregnant during that whole mess and how she’d first claimed he’d not just demanded but bullied her to have an abortion but later she’d recanted the statement. After that it was as if she’d fallen off the face of the earth. Since Felix didn’t have any children, Ella thought for sure the girl had gone forward with the abortion.

Curiously, Ella lifted the tape that was half off already and saw that underneath it, in the photo, it actually said Diaz. Maybe the mother had only given the baby her last name? In the photo where Felix was holding the baby, he was wearing scrubs. The baby couldn’t have been more than a few days old. Obviously he’d been involved from early on. Why wouldn’t the baby have taken his name?

“You could’ve just asked me.”

Felix’s sharp words startled Ella, making her flinch and gasp at the same time. She turned to face him. He walked the rest of the way down the stairs then pulled his shirt over his head. When he was close enough, he looked down at the photo. The glare he wore went even more severe. “The photo wasn’t enough? You had to investigate further?”

Ella looked down at what he was staring at. “No.” She shook her head, realizing he was talking about the tape on the bottom photo that was half lifted. “It was already like that.”

She handed it to him, and he ripped the piece of tape off then set it down on the mantel facedown without even looking at it.

“I’m sorry,” her words were barely a whisper. “They were displayed on your mantel. I didn’t think you’d be upset if I looked at them.”

Swallowing back the guilt because she knew that was bullshit, she inhaled deeply, hoping he’d believe her. His reaction earlier to her being near the photos should’ve been telling enough. If he’d wanted her to know about this, he would’ve told her already.

“Let’s get you home,” he said simply.

Feeling the instant tightness in her chest at his cold response, she reached for his arm and touched it. “Felix, I really am sorry. I should’ve never—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, okay? Let’s just go. I have somewhere I need to be early tomorrow morning.”

“My . . .” She stopped to swallow again because she could already feel her throat aching as he walked away from her. “My shoes and purse are upstairs.”