“You don’t need to imagine the obstacles. There will be enough real ones—that’s just life. But you owe it to yourself. You owe it to Riley to do your best to fulfill your potential.”
“Fisher, are you using mom guilt to get me to call Grace Astor?”
I nudge her. “Whatever it takes.”
“You’re sweet, Fisher.”
I chuckle. “I’m not always, trust me.”
“Do you have a secret dark side?” she asks me, like she wants to know.
I smile. I don’t know about a dark side, but there’s part of my past I’d rather forget. “Doesn’t everyone?”
She raises an eyebrow, like she thinks I’m talking bollocks.
“I have my moments.” I shift, and our legs brush together. She’s beautiful, and I need to get out of here before I get myself in the kind of trouble I don’t want to get out of. “Call Grace,” I say, before standing and head the hell off Juniper’s porch.
TEN
Fisher
Despite the incredible breakfasts at the Colorado Club, my favorite place to get my first meal of the day is the Galaxy Grill. The cherry-red seats are like something out of the fifties. The uniforms that the waitresses wear are fifties appropriate, and the black-and-white tiles on the floor are a vibe. It doesn’t hurt that the waffles here are sent directly from heaven. I wonder how much of Star Falls has changed in the last seventy-five years. Probably less than most of America.
“You want a table by the window?” The waitress nods to the row of booths that can fit six people, and I bite back a smile.
“Sure,” I say. “Thanks.”
I love the view down Main Street with the mountains climbing up and out from behind. It feels like the town was plonked here in the middle of nowhere and doesn’t really belong, with the mountains so domineering of the landscape. It’s so different from New York.
I follow the redheaded waitress over to the booths. When we pass the first one, something catches out of the corner of my eye, and I do a double take. There, in the first booth, is Juniper. My gaze slides to the person opposite her. It’s a kid. Her kid, presumably.
“Hi,” I stutter like I’m a fucking awkward teenager.
She smiles a wide, warm smile. “Hi, Fisher. This is Riley. My daughter.”
“Hi,” I say, nodding at Riley.
Riley’s hair is slightly darker than her mom’s, but she has the exact same smile. She lifts her palm up, and it takes me a second to realize she’s offering me a high five.
I slap my palm against hers and raise my eyebrows. “It’s good to meet you.”
“Fisher’s one of Byron’s friends, Riley.”
“Byron who you went to high school with? The dude who lives in the Colorado Club?”
“Dude?” Juniper asks on a laugh. “When diddudeappear in your vocabulary?”
Riley just rolls her eyes, like her mom is the worst.
“So, it’s nice to meet you, Riley.” I nod to the next table, where the waitress has left me a menu. “I’ll see you?—”
“You’re welcome to join us, if you want.” She gives me another smile, and I feel it in my gut. “But I completely understand if you don’t want to endure the attitude of a hungry eight-year-old.” She winks at her daughter.
“I won’t be hungry as soon as my pancakes get here.”
“Well, that’s true.” She glances back up at me. “But it’s completely fine if you want to eat on your own.”
“Ahhh, pancakes,” Riley says, leaning forward so she can see around me to where the waitress is heading toward their table with a plate of pancakes. The plate is stackedhigh, and I wonder if it’s possible for an eight-year-old to even make a dent in that many pancakes.