“Yeah.”
“I agree with her.” He shifted and faced her. “I know it will be hard for you, but Savannah is a good friend.”
“She said it was okay if I didn’t want to.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. “I sound like a child, don’t I?” Before he could answer, she said, “I’m going to do it.”
He grinned. “That’s the spirit!” At her eye roll he said, “Guess that didn’t sound too hip.”
For the first time since he arrived, she smiled. “You’re forty-eight. You’re not supposed to be hip.” But she seemed more lighthearted as she took a sip of her lemonade tea. “Are you hungry? I made some tuna salad earlier today.”
He hated tuna salad. But he would eat ten bowls of it if she wanted him to. “Sounds great.”
They took their drinks into the kitchen, and he tried to keep his expression impassive. Just like the living room and foyer, everything was different except for the paint. He wasn’t anything close to an interior designer, as his sparsely furnished, bare-walled,one-bedroom efficiency would attest, and he had no idea what Amy’s style was, other than cozy. There was a serene, comfortable vibe throughout the space. They hadn’t had much of that during their short marriage.
Brittany quickly made the sandwiches, adding a pickle spear on the side of each and a small serving of ridged potato chips. While he choked down the tuna, they talked about her channel, and a little more about the wedding.
“I’m proud of you, Brittany,” he said.
“Thanks, Dad. But why don’t you call me Britt like everyone else?”
“I don’t know.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “You’ve always been Brittany to me.” He glanced at his watch. “Sorry, I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you could come over. Next time we’ll definitely go out.”
He was about to tell her that it was okay to stay here at the house, as long as Amy wasn’t around. Not that he didn’t want to see her. He was dying to. But she didn’t even know he was back in town, and Brittany wasn’t ready to tell her they were talking. He was allowing her to guide their relationship. She’d let him know when the time was right to reach out to Amy.
Then again, he didn’t want to encourage her reluctance to leave the house. That was one thing he was concerned about—she had a fear of social situations. He wasn’t a fan of them either, so there was a level of understanding there, along with more guilt. When Brittany revealed she’d been in counseling on and off for her anxiety, he knew he was partly to blame, even though she never said so. Considering how he’d abandoned her, he had to be.
“Right. We should go out,” he said. “There’s a new barbecue place in Plano I want to try.” When she nodded, he was relieved. Maybe in the near future he would ask her about returning tocounseling. Lord knows it did a lot for him. But not now. He didn’t want to do anything to shake up their tenuous relationship.
He stood and took his dishes to the sink. After washing his hands, he tightened his tie. It was already approaching ninety degrees outside, and he’d left his jacket in the car. But he didn’t want to forget about the tie. He had a strict uniform, and there was no deviating from it.
He turned to Brittany, who was wiping crumbs off the counter with a dish towel. “When are you telling Savannah?”
She paused, then folded the dish towel neatly into fourths. “Tonight,” she said with a sharp nod. “I don’t want to keep her waiting any longer.”
“Good idea.” He smiled, his heart full of pride and love for her. “By the way, you don’t sound like a child. You’re not acting like one either. When you do something that’s hard on you to make someone else happy... that’s maturity.”
She tilted her head. “That’s really wise. Thank you.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her how much these moments meant to him. She was doing another hard thing by allowing him to prove she could trust him again. But he held back. They hadn’t hugged yet, just shook hands the first time they met in person after he contacted her through direct message on her channel. There would be time for hugs. Right now, he would take anything he could get.
She walked him to the door and opened it. A barely year-old white Jaguar was parked in the driveway. “My dad, the chauffer.”
He frowned a little. “Does that embarrass you?”
“Of course not. It’s pretty cool. I don’t know anyone else who drives a Jag.”
“It is my boss’s, remember.” He wasn’t going to mention that this was only one of his cars, and it was the cheapest and mostcommon looking. He didn’t dare drive the Bentley or the Bugatti by himself. He’d ridden in the Bugatti once, when his boss had driven it to the country club. Daniel had ended up parking it for him. Beautiful, amazing car. But driving the Jag was great too. “I better get back. He’s got a meeting in two hours downtown.”
“All right.” She stood in the doorway as he went to the car. When he opened the door, she said, “Call me later.”
He grinned. “Of course.” He got inside and drove off, the rich interior cooling down quickly as he mulled over how good his life was now. A great job, fantastic boss, an apartment that suited him, and a relationship with Brittany. He would never have dreamed he’d be at this point in three short years. There was only one thing missing.
Amy.
All he could hope for where she was concerned was eventual civility. She had every right to be angry with him. Hate him, even.
But he wasn’t the same man he’d been twenty years ago, or even three years ago. He’d changed for the better. He also had bridges to rebuild, and it was past time he did that.
