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I offered him my fist and he laughed again. “Just get me another beer.”

“You are cranky tonight.”

Yes, I was. So the fuck what?

He stared at me with his gray eyes, shaking his head in a chastising gesture.

“She’s going through a lot right now, okay, old man?”

Another snort was a reminder I couldn’t insult him if I tried. “That’s why she needs people in her corner. She didn’t anticipate she’d be forced to deal with discovering her father was a fucking criminal.”

“I know. She doesn’t need any complications.”

“She needs friends. Maybe that head of yours is too thick to see the truth, but you could be her friend.”

The ache in my heart deepened. “She doesn’t need me as a friend.”

Jarvis grabbed another dog biscuit, tossing it over the counter. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not a good look on a man.”

Sorry for myself. What the hell did he know? Alright, fine. I hated my life. The man I’d become. The shit I’d been forced to deal with.

“Another thought for you although not sure you’re ready to listen to a decent recommendation. This is about business. You should set up some social media for the sanctuary. What you’re doing is great work. Why not tell the world? You might be able to get some funding to continue helping horses in need. There are grants out there, people willing to pay top dollar for a place their horses can recuperate.” He winked and I couldn’t retort to what he’d said.

Maybe the old guy had a good idea.

Yeah, right. As if I knew what the hell I was doing.

It was late and I had a buzz for the first time since I’d gone on a two-day drunken binge after she’d left. Since then, I’d been working my ass off and I had to admit doing so had kept me from thinking about Juliette.

Except at night.

The darkness was my enemy, sleep rare. I sat back in the seat, stroking Tank’s head. “I don’t know, buddy. What do you think I should do?”

His whine was different than I was used to and when he lifted his head, I could tell he was sad.

Just like his dad.

I took another swallow of the last drink of the evening as I tapped my fingers on the desk. What the hell. At least I could see how she was doing. I opened the desk drawer, finding the original envelope Gray had given me. There’d been no reason for me to keep her social media addresses, but I hadn’t managed to toss them.

When I pulled up Instagram, I reminded myself the fake accounts I’d established had been left in place. Why? I knew the answer. I was hardheaded as fuck. Just like someone else I knew. Images of her face and smile flashed into my mind.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

I forced myself to look, scrolling through the ones on Instagram. She posted regularly, but the photographs and captions didn’thave the same life in them as they’d once had. Still, I couldn’t stop myself, going through photo after photo until I realized I’d hit the heart button on several of them. Well, shit. Maybe I was getting the hang of this social media crap.

By the time I’d checked my watch, almost two hours had passed. What the hell? And what did I do next against my better judgment? I hit the follow button. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment. I thought about Jarvis’ recommendation to create social media for the sanctuary. I’d yet to give the location a name. My uncle had left that up to me as well. I thought about the name as I leaned against the chair, swiveling it back and forth.

What did I know about creating a social media account? Nothing. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand technology. However, being creative? Not my thing. Then there was maintaining the various sites. I had no patience. It all came down to what I wanted to do with the sanctuary. I still wasn’t certain.

There’d been no real inspiration other than caring for the animals already in the program. At least Henry had spent quality time creating a company, hiring an accountant and establishing various business accounts, making everything easier.

He’d hired a crop of decent people who had everything under control, my facilities manager constantly bringing to my attention requests to accept new horses. Up until now, I’d told Ben no. Maybe it was time to reconsider.

If I had to admit, I loved the hard work, the long hours inciting exhaustion almost every night. Closing my eyes, I attempted to envision the icon I’d use on IG, the photographs that would needto be taken and the captions. I was definitely no writer either. If Juliette were here, she’d know exactly what to do.

Woof!

Tank’s hard nudge brought me back to reality. “Okay, I get it. Stop living in the past. Right?”