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Edwin doesn’t respond, just licks his lower lip, eyes falling to the place where I’ve unbuttoned my shirt enough to give a glimpse into the behind-the-scenes of Sonia Hill. “Then have a good night, Sonia.”
He strides off before I can utter another word.
13
EDWIN
When I’m not thinkingabout Sonia, I’m thinking about Nate.
It’s become clear that Nate will not be coming to see me on his own accord and that Abigail and Jack are making it close to impossible for me to get to him.
So, I had to go about contacting my son another way. I hired the foremost PI in New York City to track down my son’s whereabouts. I should have done it sooner because he had Nate’s location for me in less than a day.
“He’s got an apartment in Queens right by the Rockaways.”
“Queens?” That had been quite the shock.
“Only legal surfing spot in the city,” the PI explained.
“Surfing?” The hits just kept on coming, showing me how much of my son I am unfamiliar with.
But now, here I am, on the Rockaway Peninsula, staring at a group of surfers who are all waxing their boards on the beach.
I can spot him from a mile away. My boy. His blond windswept hair is crinkled as it dries in the sun. And hissmile gleams, just like his mother’s. That’s what brought me under her spell all those years ago. Although he got the dimples from me, a perfect combination of his parentage.
I stand there for far too long to look like I have all my sanity. But I can’t help it. I’m stuck in this spot. It’s not easy to see your son for the first time in years. Everything feels so important to say that I can’t pick out just one thing.
A coward. That’s what I am. In every realm of my life.
I pulled away from Sonia just the other day at the bar when I should have taken things all the way. I pushed my son away and forced everyone else to bring him to me rather than demanding to see him, making it my main priority to track him down and find him.
That streak of cowardice ends today.
I head down the beach, not paying much mind to my expensive Italian leather shoes sinking into the sand. There are far more important things than Italian leather in life. It’s taken me far too many years to realize that.
The sea breeze whips through my air, sending my perfect coif askew.
Shit. I know he’s my son and not a woman I’m trying to impress, but I wanted to show up looking my best. Wanted to show him just how serious I am about this.
When I’m halfway down the beach, close enough I can catch most of the conversation between the surfers, Nate alerts. His eyes whip toward me. And that fantastic smile drops. “Give me a second,” I read on his lips as he shoulders past a few of the surfers and comes in my direction.
Well, at least he’s not running for the hills.
I smile at him as he comes closer, but that doesn’t seem to help anything.
Nate stops a few feet away, crosses his arms over his chest, and plants his feet in a wide stance. Trying to intimidatehis old man. He only has an inch of height on me, and he’s all lank. Although, his arms and legs are muscled in a way I’ve never seen before, made even more obvious through his wet suit.
“What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too.”
Nate’s stoic countenance doesn’t break.
“You…” Shit, I don’t know what to say. “You surf.”
Nice going, Captain Obvious.
“Uh…” Nate glances back at the group of surfers who are all looking over at him with concern, shielding their whispers from our ears. Nate turns back, tugs on his ear lobe, and shakes his head to the side. Water caught in his ear maybe? “Yeah, I surf.”
