Page 88 of Selfie

Are all the working women in my life so lippy?Goodness fuck.“Anyway, I want to do something nice. I need a big gesture that can begin to make up for my behavior. Any ideas?”

Dawn crosses her legs and leans back in the chair. She’s quiet as her high-heeled foot bounces in place. “Her charity event,” she finally says.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you get your invitation? It’s this weekend. Julia is hosting her first big charity event for post-prison rehabilitation.”

“No.” By no, I mean I haven’t checked my mail in weeks. There’s a mound of envelopes by the entry table I have yet to open. “I wonder why Dad didn’t mention it to me?”

“Probably gives you too much time to plan an excuse. I think his new strategy is confronting you the day before. Your support would mean a lot. They’re trying to raise twenty million dollars in one night. It’s a huge undertaking and she’s nervous.”

I place my forehead in my palm.Dammit.I’ve been the worst son. “I’m going. I’ll definitely be there. I’ll buy Julia a big congratulatory present for hitting her goal.” If she can’t hit the number on her own, I’ll cover the rest. “What kind of cars is she into? Do they still make Ferraris in pink?”

Dawn gives me a look that screams,you dumbass. “Maybe try the Barbie dealership and see if Mattel can make you one to scale.”

“Ha-ha,” I deadpan.

“You know what Julia would really like?” Leaning forward, she taps the edge of my desk. “Quality time. She just wants to be friends, Nathan. Despite what your incorrect intuition is telling you, she’s not marrying your dad for money.”

I exhale deeply. “It’s weird though, right? A thirty-year age gap? I mean ten or less I’d understand. But what the hell do they see in each other?”

Dawn shows me a knowing smile, the same one she wears when she’s about to mother me. “It’s not about what they see. It’s about what theyfeel. When they’re together, they’re happy. That’s all that matters to them. Or have you forgotten how good ‘happy’ feels?”

My lips twitch into a grin, my poker face betraying me. “I’ve been a little happier lately.”

“Hm. I wonder why?” Dawn asks with such sarcastic flair. She purposely glances at Spencer’s empty desk. “Where is your assistant today?”

“Sick. I was thinking of taking off work and making sure she’s okay. She sounded pretty rough on the phone.”

“That’s a good idea. Love sickness has no cure. You can only treat the symptoms.” Dawn winks.

I flatten my expression. “Careful with the L word. That’s…not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

I take a moment to consider. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“What’s holding you back?” Dawn folds her fingers together like a professor who is quizzing me and already knows the answer.

I wet my lips, preparing myself for the dreaded question I’ve had in my mind since the moment I met Spencer. “Do you think the closer I get to another woman, the more I’ll lose Elise and Claire?” I tap my temple twice. “I made Spencer an Arnold Palmer the other day. I brought it to her by the pool and said, ‘I made your favorite.’ She had no clue what I was talking about?—”

“Because that was Elise’s favorite drink.”

I nod sullenly. “Memories are starting to get muddled the more time I spend with Spencer. I don’t think I’m ready to…lose them.”

“Nathan,” Dawn says, leaning forward once more. She reaches over the desk holding her hand out, asking for mine. I place my hand over her warm fingertips and lightly squeeze. “I promise I’m not saying this to hurt you, but you already have.You lost them.And it’s awful and unfair. But when you accept that, you can start to heal.”

I try to pull away but she grasps on tighter. “Don’t,” I demand.

“You lost love, but there’s more to find. And remember, every day you keep those barricades around your heart up, you’re depriving someone ofyou. The real you. The ‘you’ we all miss. The ‘you’ we’ve seen glimpses of now that Spencer’s come around. You’ve always been a selfless guy. If you can’t try for you, then try forher.”

The best part of me wants to yank Spencer into a fairy-tale romance and see her eyes light up when I tell her I’m never letting her go. The worst part of me is bitterly angry that lately, when I close my eyes, I don’t see Elise’s big, emerald-green eyes. I don’t see her light freckles. Sometimes I forget what she looks like. But every curve, dimple, and angle of Spencer’s face is etched into my mind in crystal clear high-definition.

I rise, pulling myself free of Dawn’s embrace. I hold my breath as I make my way to my piano bench. I’m relieved when Ilift the lid and it still stands lopsided. Pushing the papers aside, I find the photo I took of Elise and Claire on the day I proposed.

Returning to my desk, I place the picture on top of my desk, then retrieve a roll of tape from my top drawer. Of course all my office supplies have been replaced. Even my scotch tape is now in a glittery-pink dispenser.Damn, Spencer is thorough.

I tape two corners. Satisfied the picture is secure, I look up to meet Dawn’s stare. “There. Now I have a reminder.”

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