Tempered (A Daughters of the People Novel) (Daughters of the People Series) by Lucy Varna Page A

here to collaborate on your graphic novel.”
    Hawthorne
blinked. “That is not possible.”
    “So you don’t
want to work with me.” Dammit. Hadn’t he expected as much? “Look, it’s already
been arranged. You can find somebody else if you want, but you know what kind
of delays that’ll cause.”
    “I am not
concerned with delays, merely with your appearance on my porch,” she said
evenly.
    “I’m here to
work.”
    “So you say.
Yet, I have found you to be not quite trustworthy.”
    He winced.
“C’mon, Hawthorne. That’s not fair.”
    “Nothing is,”
she murmured. Rapid, skipping footsteps sounded on the stairs. “You may bring
your bags in and visit the park with us.”
    Some of the hope
rebounded, right into Aaron’s throat, squeezing it tight. “So I can stay?”
    “You may
accompany us to the park, only because my granddaughter has taken a shine to
you.”
    “She thinks I’m
a puppy.”
    “She is lonely
for a father,” Hawthorne corrected gently. “Come. I must change and then we shall
discuss your visit while Lali plays with her friends.”
    Aaron gathered
his luggage and followed Hawthorne inside. A visit to the park wasn’t a kick to
the curb, though on top of that kiss between her and Upton, it wasn’t exactly a
sign of welcome. He dropped his things and held Lali’s hand when she offered
it, and chatted with the young girl in the foyer while Hawthorne changed into
street clothes.
     

Chapter Seven
     
    The crisp autumn
air was filled with the smell of leaves floating to the earth, coating the
ground in shades of orange, yellow, and red. Hawthorne stuffed her hands into
the pockets of her denim jacket and observed Lali interacting with her
playmates. The little girl dangled upside down on the monkey bars, her legs
threaded through the metal rungs as she swung back and forth, chattering with a
friend who hung the same way a few rungs away, facing Lali.
    Aaron set his
sketchpad aside and shifted on the bench. Hawthorne placed a light hand on his
forearm. He tensed beneath her fingers, and she allowed them to slide away.
    “Aren’t you
worried she’ll fall?”
    “She will not.”
Hawthorne nodded to the monkey bars, where Lali had already wiggled free and
righted herself. “The children here learn how to handle themselves at a young
age.”
    He exhaled
noisily and slumped against the back of the bench where they sat. “I’ve never
seen so many laid-back parents in my life.”
    Hawthorne glanced
around the park, reimagining it through his eyes. Fathers and a few mothers
occupied the other benches surrounding the play area, chatting with one another
or tending to other children. A few bent diligently over handiwork, knitting or
the like, their eyes sharp as they glanced from their work to the playing
children.
    “Is it not
normal for parents and children to visit playgrounds in California?”
    “You’re kidding,
right? In the land of litigation and helicopter parents?”
    “What is a
helicopter parent?”
    He shook his
head with a mild hmph . “Never mind. Forgot who I was talking to.”
    Hawthorne turned
her attention back to Lali. “No need to be dismissive, Mr. Kesselman.”
    He shoved his
hands through his hair. “Look, can’t you call me Aaron?”
    “I would rather
not.” Doing so would only remind her of their prior relationship and the harsh
words he had uttered during their last meeting. She ignored the pang in her
chest. “How did your name come to be drawn as my collaborator?”
    “Ah, well, about
that.” Aaron rubbed his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “I asked my agent to
put my name in the hat.”
    “And the
publisher chose you among the many illustrators available.” Hawthorne stifled a
sigh. Perhaps that would not have happened if she had not offered his name as
well, but there was no help for it now, unless Dana Goldburg could intercede.
“I am not surprised. You are a good illustrator.”
    “Thanks.”
    “You sound
surprised. Did you think I