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“Oh yeah?”
“I promise I wasn’t only thinking of myself when I booked it.” He glanced at me while he approached the light, his tongue skimming his bottom lip. “You’re going to love it there.”
“Do you go to this magical foodie place often?”
He laughed. “If I’m being honest, I don’t get out as often as I’d like. Normally, my brothers and friends drag me to a meal or drinks, like the night we met.”
Because of Everly.
That made perfect sense.
When I’d been in Manhattan with the Turners, they had been the same. Most of our meals eaten at home. But when we were traveling, all we did was eat out. During the four years I’d worked for them, we’d been in LA several times, always dining at the best restaurants. One meal in particular was a dinner I’d never forget.
I closed my eyes, recalling their meatballs as I said, “The best food I’ve ever had here was at—”
“Origin’s,” we both said at the same time.
I felt a warmth come across my cheeks. “Sounds like we have similar taste in food.”
His fingers brushed against the outside of my hand, where it was resting on my thigh. “That’s where we’re going tonight.”
“You’ve got me excited.” In more ways than just food, I thought. “Admittedly, I was never a foodie until four years ago,” I told him. “I learned to try new things, challenge my taste buds. Now, I crave things that I never would have dreamed of eating before.”
“Oh yeah?” He looked at me again before he changed lanes. “Tell me about your family. Were you born and raised in LA?”
“I was, which seems so rare nowadays.”
“Seems we have that in common too.”
I grinned even though he couldn’t see me. “My parents are both CPAs and own their own accounting firm. I have an older brother who lives in Denver. We’re a small but close family. My parents wish my brother and I—or at least one of us—loved numbers as much as them. Sadly, we didn’t inherit that gene. In fact, numbers loathe me.”
He laughed. “So, if numbers aren’t your thing, what is?”
“Education.”
“You’re a teacher?”
I sighed. “I will be.”
Words that made our age difference and place in life even more apparent.
“I realize I don’t know you that well, but the way you were with my daughter tells me you’re going to be an exceptional teacher.”
“Thank you.” I folded the sleeves of my jean jacket, my hands busy, fidgety, as I continued, “It’s funny; my parents do the books and taxes for so many wealthy people in this city. They never say names at the dinner table, just numbers and their earnings. I have no desire to make that kind of money. I just want to be around kids and make a difference in their lives.” I glanced out the passenger window, recalling the feeling in my heart when I’d submitted my UCLA application, bringing me one step closer to my dream job. “I want to help mold them into wonderful little humans. I think it’s often forgotten that kids are the most important people in our world. They’re our future. I just wish education got more credit and had more resources, so kids had every chance to succeed with endless opportunities at their disposal.” I stopped, realizing I was going on a mini rant. “Sorry. Clearly, I’m extremely passionate about this.”
“Can Everly be in your class? For the rest of her education?” He gazed at me again, his stare honest and genuine. “I’m serious.”
“I appreciate that.” My fingers halted but immediately started right back up, now playing with the end of the sleeve. “Except I have no classroom. I’m working on that part. You know, once I finish the next four years of college.”
His eyes widened. “Does that mean you just graduated high school?”
“No, no.” I giggled a little, realizing he thought I was only eighteen. “I’m twenty-two years old. High school was four years ago.”
I saw the relief and felt it when his hand moved on top of mine, squeezing my fingers. I could feel the sweat forming on my palm.
“Something tells me you’re going to work your ass off and get that degree much faster than you think.”
“I hope so.” I didn’t want to continue dwelling on me in case we ventured further into the topic of employment—something I certainly didn’t want to lie about if it came up. So, I said, “What about you? Hannah told me you’re a lawyer. I’m assuming the guys you were with at the bar were friends? Colleagues?”
“Yes, but more importantly, they’re family.” He turned at the light, taking his hand back to shift. “I have two older brothers—Jenner and Dominick—who were there that night, and we more or less run the law firm even though my parents are technically in charge.”
“And Hannah will be working for you?”
“With us, yes.”
“How nice that your family works together and that you all wanted to be lawyers.”
“Where your brain revolted against numbers, the dinner table conversations did quite the opposite for my brothers and me. Our parents’ chatter ended up fueling us. We each concentrate on a different type of law. Mine’s estate planning, which means I deal with nothing but numbers.”
“That sounds like hell.”
He laughed. “So does education.”
I held myself back from snorting. “Fair enough.” I watched the headlights flash across his face, reading his expression even if it was just his profile. “I get the sense that you love it.”
“I do. My brothers are in entertainment and real estate law—areas that require them to be on the road much more often than me. Estate planning is perfect for my lifestyle and my daughter.”
“She’s adorable, Ford. You two seem very close.”
“We are.” He exhaled loudly. “And we always have been, even during the days when I had no idea what I was doing.”
I placed my hand on his arm, surprised by the jolt of sensations that instantly moved through me. “No one does. It’s all a giant guessing game, especially when they’re born. How old were you when she was born?”
He was silent for a few seconds before he answered, “Twenty-four. I hadn’t given children much thought. I was far more concerned with partying and making money than being responsible for someone other than myself.” When our eyes connected, there was emotion in his. Emotion I couldn’t quite pinpoint. “But Everly came into my life and exploded everything I’d thought to be true. It’s just been her and me ever since.”
My questions were accumulating.
Where is Everly’s mom? Does she have a role in her life?
What happened to the relationship between Ford and her?
What is the cause of the emotion I’m seeing?
Instead of asking any of those, I softly said, “She’s lucky to have you.”
“Nah, Sydney.” He stilled, his voice so coarse. “I’m the lucky one to have her.”
I melted.
My heart, my body—all combining together into a puddle of goo in this seat.
I’d witnessed many conversations during my time as an au pair—talks between the Turners, their friends, and their neighbors. There were things parents said about their children, obligatory responses. And then there were replies that came from the rawest part of their soul. An admission from the most beautiful, unfiltered place.
That was what I’d just heard.
A side of Ford that he kept protected.
That was extremely vulnerable.
I would cherish this moment.
