Page 11 of Boss of Attraction
Since her mother died.
“It would be a casual thing,” she continued. “Madison’s mom is sweet and really pretty for her age.”
“Wow.” I chuckled. “But even with that ringing endorsement, I don’t need my daughter playing matchmaker for me.”
She crossed her arms. “Well, someone has to since you seem to have given up on finding love again.”
I sighed, keeping my eyes focused on the road. “It’s not that I’ve given up, Morgan. It’s just ... hard.”
She reached over and gently squeezed my hand. “I know it’s been tough since Mom’s been gone, but she’d want you to be happy.”
I couldn’t help but feel she was right and thought maybe I had let my grief consume me for too long.
“Okay,” I finally said, glancing at my daughter with a small smile. “I’ll think about dating, but you aren’t setting me up with someone.”
“Fine. Maybe you should try a dating app,” she suggested.
I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? There are some great ones out there. I just created a profile on The Click?—”
“That’s why.” I barked out a laugh. “I’m not going to be on the same dating app as my kid.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” she agreed. “Just promise me you won’t sit at the house all alone when you’re not working. Promise me you’ll get back out there.”
“I promise.” I glanced over my shoulder and switched lanes. “But speaking of the house ... I wanted to talk to you and your brother about me possibly putting it on the market.”
My plan had been to wait to talk to Ryan and Morgan together, but Ryan rarely went with us to the Donnelleys’ house. Not only was he extremely busy with his job, but as all the kids got older and started doing their own things, only Morgan and Faye remained super close.
“You want to sell the house?” The hint of sadness in her voice was clear.
“I’m thinking about it. I don’t need that much space anymore, and living closer to work sounds nice. But I won’t do it unless you and your brother are on board with the idea.”
Morgan took a moment, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. “I actually think that’s a great idea. It can be part of your new beginning. And if it means being closer to work and having more time for yourself, then why not?”
Her response surprised me a bit, but I was grateful for her understanding. I only hoped Ryan felt the same way.
As we continued our journey toward Cape Cod, Morgan’s phone buzzed with notifications, undoubtedly messages from her friends, and updates on the upcoming parties. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as I watched her get lost in her digital world. It seemed like just yesterday she was a young girl, riding in the back seat of my old Lexus GX, excitedly telling me about her day at school. Our entire lives had changed since then, but as she liked to remind me, my life wasn’t over, so I needed to get out there and enjoy it.
An hourlater we pulled into the circle driveway of the Donnelleys’ two-story summer home on Cape Cod. The gray house stood tall, with its large windows reflecting the bright afternoon sun. At the front, a porch with a row of rocking chairs invited guests to sit and enjoy their beautiful yard, where the scent of saltwater mingled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.
When I stepped out of the car, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. The Cape Cod home held so many cherished moments for my family: the laughter of children playing near the water, the scent of barbecues and fresh seafood filling the air, and the warmth of friendship. Actually, Patrick and Mary Donnelley were more than just friends; they were family to me. We didn’t spend as much time together since Patrick had been elected president of the United States, but we tried to get together whenever they could sneak away to the Cape.
Morgan climbed the steps in front of me, passing several Secret Service agents along the way. When Faye swung the front door open, they ran into each other’s arms as though they didn’t see each other in Boston all the time.
“Come up to my room. I need help picking out an outfit for tonight,” Faye said.
“Dad, can you bring in my bag when you get yours?” Morgan asked but didn’t wait for a response as Faye dragged her up the stairs.
“Some things never change, do they?” Patrick pulled me in for a quick hug.
I chuckled. “Apparently not.”
Mary walked over and also embraced me. “Do you want a drink?”
“After the week I had, I think I need one.”
“What’s going on?” Patrick poured each of us a glass of Macallan on the rocks.
