Page 103 of Charm

“When’s the last time you ate anything?” He glances at the bottle of scotch on the coffee table. “I see you’ve been consuming enough fluids.”

I laugh for the first time in days. “I’ve had water. Bottles and bottles of water. I haven’t touched the scotch since early yesterday. “

I thought it would serve as a foolproof hangover cure. All it did was make me pass out.

“I’ll order some food.” His hand dives into one of the pockets of his suit jacket. “What do you feel like eating?”

“A sandwich?” I say without any real conviction attached to it. “A burger?”

He rubs a hand over his smooth jaw. “Get in the shower. We’re going to Crispy Biscuit.”

I know what he’s doing. He’s pulling me out of my pity and tossing me back into the real world.

I’d protest, but it’s not a bad idea.

Getting out of here and breathing some fresh air will help.

I drag myself to my feet as he does the same. Before I can walk away, he’s got his arms around me.

“I know you’re going through something,” he says. “Talking about it will help.”

Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t, but he’s the guy I need to confide in.

I step back and nod. “I’ll get ready to go.”

“We’ll video chat with Sinclair on the way there,” he promises. “Morgan is awake. You’ll get a few smiles out of him.”

As I look at him, I have to swallow hard to hold back the barrage of emotions I feel. “You’re a great father, James.”

His gaze scans my face. “I’m a great brother, too. I’m going to prove that to you tonight.”

We walk nextto each other as we approach Riverside Park. It’s not quite dark yet, but dusk is settling over the city.

It was my idea to come here because I feel anchored here, and it’s always provided me a refuge from the hustle and bustle of my daily life.

East Hampton is the place I tend to run to when I need time to breathe, but I can’t leave town now. Truth be told, I’m not even sure I could fully process what I’m going through at the beach house since that’s where my life changed so dramatically.

The bench I prefer is vacant, so I point at it. “Over there, James.”

“I know,” he says. “I followed you here once.”

That brings a smile to my face. “When?”

He shrugs. “It was years ago. We argued. You stormed off. I gave chase, but I dropped it when I saw you sitting on the bench. You looked like you needed some‘me’ time.”

I spent the last two days drowning in the silence of time alone. I shut off my phone, essentially cutting myself off from everyone, including Greer. When I powered it back up after my shower, I saw three text messages from her and one missed call. Her voicemail was simple and to the point. She wanted me to call her back when I had the chance.

I’ll make that happen as soon as I know what to say to her.

We sit side-by-side on the bench, watching silently as people pass us by on the path a few feet away.

Jameson crosses his legs, but he doesn’t initiate the conversation. He knows I want to do that. Experience has taught him that.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad,” I say in a low tone. “That’s always been a dream of mine.”

That can’t be news to him, since I cooed and blew kisses at his phone when we video-chatted with Sinclair and Morgan on our way here.

“You’ll get there, Holden,” he assures me. “When you do, you’ll be stiff competition for the world’s greatest dad.”