BRYCE

“Special lady?” Brantley asks.

I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. When I asked him to make the detour on our way home from the office, he didn’t say a word. Now that he’s seen her, it’s a different story.

“Yes. A wise man once told me I should wait outside her work to get her to notice me.”

“I believe you took my personal memoirs and made them your own.”

“I believe I took some really great advice and got a woman to notice me.” I loosen my tie and widen my legs, settling into the seat.

“May I offer some more?” he asks.

My hands jitter on their own, and I can’t help but tap them along my knees. I can’t believe I’m nervous. I’m never nervous.

“Don’t waste a good woman on midnight rendezvous when you should be singing to her at sunset.”

His words catch my attention, and I sit up to look back at him.

“It’s complicated. She has a career and a son, and I have …” I open my hands, palms up, in front of me and then run them down my face. “I took off half a day last week, and it cost me the entire weekend. Unfortunately, this is the only thing I can give.”

I stare at the back of his head. It’s immobile as he looks forward and drives up toward my apartment building.

“Do you think a woman with a career and a child will have the stamina to continue this sort of affair?”

“It’s not an affair. It’s …” I pause. Quick coffee breaks. Showing up at her house, unannounced, with Chinese food. Mauling her on a fire escape. Aside from the Boy Scouts, I have done nothing but treat Tessa like she is a part-time lover. “It’s a new relationship. We’ll find our groove.”

“Treat a woman as if she is the breath you’ll take when you have run out of your own,” he says as he pulls into the garage underneath my building. The sentiment is familiar.

“I think you’ve said that to me before,” I say.

He pulls in front of the back door that leads to the lobby and turns around to say, “That was your mother’s quote. She was a very smart woman.”

I bounce my fist off my thigh. My mother raised me to be attentive toward everyone in my life. How did I drop the mark on how to treat a woman?

“Don’t go beating yourself up.” He unlocks the door but stays in his seat. “You’re a good man, Bryce. You’ll make the right decision.”

I tap my fingers along my desk as I contemplate my schedule for this week. It’s a bold move, something I’ve never done before. If I move my luncheon from Wednesday to Tuesday, then we can leave right after that. My Thursday conference call can still happen, though I’ll need to make sure I have a good connection, and some places are hit or miss in Tahoe.

I think some more, wondering if I can trust Austin to take over for me while I’m gone. I have editors and senior staff that can keep the papers in line, but I like things to be checked over by one of us. It’s the way it’s always been done.

My phone rings from the line Jalynn and I share. I pick it up.

“Tanner’s on line one.”

I let her transfer the call. Instead of saying hello, I ask, “Have you cut your hair yet?”

“Nope. Have you run off with the woman of your dreams yet?”

“I’m working on it.”

There’s a pause.

“Was that a joke?”

I take my glasses off and run my fingers over my eyes. “I’m trying to figure out if I can take her away for a few days and head to our place in Tahoe.”

There’s another pause and the shuffling of Tanner on the other end. “Hold on. Did I call Austin by mistake?”

“I’ll ignore that comment.” I put my glasses back on and look at my schedule.

Austin has a big interview happening this week. I wanted to go to it, but I don’t need to be there.

“Are you really planning on taking a girl away?”

“Not everyone is a bar junkie like you. Do girls in New York even know what it means when you tell them you’re Tanner Sexton?”

His laugh echoes through the receiver. “The Sexton name does nothing here. I can sit at the bar, be a wallflower, and no one cares.”

I have always embraced being a Sexton, being that I took over my role in the company at a young age. It came with the territory. Austin, on the other hand, has done whatever he can to hide who he is. It’s harder now that he’s here at Sexton Media, but I always assumed that was why he joined the military and then started street racing under an alias.

Tanner, on the other hand, hasn’t felt the full Sexton effect. It’s a blessing and a curse. Women want to sleep with you for money. Men want to be friends with you for power. Everyone else wants to take you down.

I’m sure he has had no trouble meeting girls on his own merit. College is the easiest place to get laid. Everyone’s single and partying. Plus, the kid has looks. Where I have my father’s dark eyes and dark hair, Tanner is all Mom—blond hair and blue eyes. He must stand out in the New York social scene with his California surfer look.

“I bet women go crazy for the silent, artistic type,” I suggest.

“It definitely hasn’t hurt me. My bed is always warm at night and empty in the morning.”

I can’t relate to him at all. When I was his age, I had a steady girlfriend and a ring in my top drawer.

“Tell me about this girl,” he says. “Is she your Daisy Buchanan?”

Falling back in my chair, I shake my head at his reference to The Great Gatsby. I haven’t told him, but I’ve been reading it at night before I go to sleep. “Daisy was a selfish and shallow debutant.”

“And Jay Gatsby was a millionaire who pined for the dream.”

“Am I Gatsby in this conversation?” I ask incredulously.

He laughs. “You’re whoever you think you are, brother. Just don’t let her marry someone else and live the life of disillusionment. You might end up dead in a pool.”

Tanner’s use for creating a lesson out of art astounds me. He can look at a red circle on a canvas and tell you how it is a metaphor for the human condition. I, on the other hand, just see a red blob from a lazy painter who didn’t want to finish his work.

I rub my eyes, knowing he’s going to lambaste me for this. “All this from the guy who doesn’t want to settle down.”

“That’s because I’m twenty-two. If I were old like you—”

“I’m thirty years old.”

“You act like you’re fifty. I’m glad that you’re taking a girl to Tahoe.”

“The last thing I need to hear is how my baby brother is proud of me.”

“She must be special.”

My mind fills with images of Tessa and our kiss last night on the fire escape. Yeah, I know she’s worth it. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “She is.”

“Anyway …” Tanner draws out. “Enough about your sex life. I’m coming home in a few weeks. Can I crash with you, so I don’t have to stay with Dad and Missy? I’m always freaked out she’s going to come in my bed late at night.” He lets out a gagging noise that makes me laugh.

“Yeah, that’s no problem. Just let me know when.”

“Cool. Later, brother. Oh, and can you do me a favor? While you’re in Tahoe, grab Mom’s first edition of Pride and Prejudice.”

I shake my head. “I’m not reading another book—”

“It’s for Austin.” He laughs. “Though I doubt he can control his ADD long enough to read it. Thanks, man.”

We hang up, and for a moment, I let myself remember what life was like when I was his age. I had everything I ever wanted. I was going to travel the world, and life was so carefree. I want that for him.

Really, I want that for me.

I sit back in my chair, contemplating everything that Missy sent me about the sale of the company. If we did sell, I’d be able to live my life the way I wanted. I’d travel. I’d take the photos I always wanted to. I have the connections; there’s no doubt I’d be able to see my work displayed in National Geographic or hanging in galleries. I’d actually have a life.

My vision turns to the plant my mom gave me, how happy she was when I graduated, how proud she was that she was able to give me the life I wanted. And she did. Everything she created here has given me so much more than I ever dreamed.

But I know she wanted me to be happy and to have a family as well. If she made it work, then why can’t I?

A new motivation comes over me. She made it possible. She relied on her team to make it happen. I have that team in place. Now, it’s time for me to take control of the one thing I’ve let go for so long.

My life.

I push the intercom button. “Jalynn, cancel my appointments for Wednesday through Friday.”

“Um, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” she says a little confused but thankfully without asking questions.

“Oh, and connect me to Lumiére Salon and Spa.”

It only takes her a minute to reply, “The receptionist is on hold for you on line one.”

I pick up the phone with so much confidence that I feel like I am Superman. The ironic thought makes me laugh.

“Hello, Aiesha. It’s Bryce Sexton. I’d like to talk to the manager, please,” I say into the phone.

“Do I get to know why?” she singsongs to me.

“I’d rather discuss it with him first,” I sing right back. Not as sweetly, I might add.

“Damn. Fine. Please hold.” She audibly pouts.

There’s club music playing in the background. I sit and listen to the bass reverberating in my ear.

Someone picks the phone up and shouts into it, “This is Emmanuel. How can I help you?”

“Emmanuel, this is Bryce Sexton. I was a client of Tessa Clarke’s a few weeks ago—”

“The Tesla guy. You know, you cost me twenty dollars. What can I do for you, Mr. Sexton?” He sounds annoyed to be hearing from me.

I ignore the attitude.

“I’d like to take Tessa away for a few days, and I know she’s been working for you for only a short period, and she probably doesn’t have any vacation days saved up, so I would like to book myself an appointment every hour for her entire shift for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. This way, she will get to leave with me, and you are still getting your portion.”

His voice starts and cuts out a few times, as if he’s in shock. “Well, that’s a very generous offer, but that’s not how I run a business. Tessa has clients booked, and I need the extra makeup artist on staff for the Friday rush.”

“I’ll throw in a feature about your salon in our Sunday bridal section of the San Francisco Standard at no charge.”

He takes a sharp breath in. That’s the most coveted spot of our Sunday section and worth a pretty penny. “Mr. Sexton, I think we can make that happen. I’ll hand you back to Aiesha to schedule the payment of those days. You will be prepaying,” he drawls.

“Thank you, Emmanuel. I’ll have someone from Editorial contact you next week.”

Only seconds later, I hear the squeal of Aiesha, as I’m sure Emmanuel has told her of our deal.

When she picks up the phone, I’m having a hard time containing my smile as she says, “I knew you were a good one. That girl deserves to be swept off her feet. Now, if you fuck with her head, I’m gonna open up a can of whoop ass on you.”

“That won’t be a problem. Just promise you won’t tell her. It’s a surprise,” I say.

She lets out another squeal. “This day just keeps getting better. I’mma go make another bet with Emmanuel that you two make it through the weekend. The man has no faith in you two as a couple, but I think you’ve got something special.”

This time, I allow myself to smile.