by Stacy Wise
A man sitting on a nearby stone bench turns to me and says, “There’re some dolphins out there.” He points. “See them?”
Wiping my mouth with my tank, I look to the ocean, straining to see them. If I do, something good will happen. Seconds later, two dolphins arc out of the water, followed by three more in rapid succession. My heart flutters with hope. I turn to the man, a smile cracking my stony expression. “That’s a big pod. They seem happy, don’t they? I like to think they’re good luck.” I wait for his response, hoping he’ll agree.
He shrugs. “Could be.”
A group of tourists gathers near us, asking what’s out there, and he engages them while I slip away, moving closer to the sand. The dolphins swim south, and I watch until they’re tiny specks in the vast blue. I make a hazy wish as they go, hoping the universe can decipher it better than I. Let everything work out okay. Wishes are supposed to be clear and specific, but also from the heart. At least I got one component right.
A guy playing with his daughter near the swing set catches my eye. He looks vaguely familiar. Something about his stance. I shade my eyes and step closer.
It’s Ryan.
He’s a dad?
I contemplate whether or not to walk over and say hi. As though sensing my gaze, he turns. “Katie?”
I slip off my shoes and socks and dig my toes into the warm sand. The little girl toddles over, clutching a plastic shovel like a scepter, her red curls bouncing. She grins up at me, and I’m hit with recognition. She’s the girl from the wayward stroller.
Ryan brushes sand from his shirt and smiles. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I study his face, trying to determine if he’s older than I assumed. The woman with the stroller had to have been in her late twenties, if not her early thirties. I try to recall if she had a wedding ring on, but I didn’t notice.
“Sorry about today. I had a bit of a family emergency.” He tousles the little girl’s curls, and she points her shovel at me.
“Olaf your favorite?”
I laugh. “You remember. Yes, Olaf is my favorite.”
Ryan looks at me, his mouth curving into a confused half grin. “You’ve met?”
“Yeah. Her stroller was rolling down the sidewalk, and I stopped it. That’s when I met her and your…girlfriend?” He blinks in surprise, and I try again, my voice crackly. “Wife?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “No. You met my sister. Sydney is my niece.”
“Oh. Right.” I force a laugh. “Got that one wrong.”
He swings Sydney into his arms as though she weighs nothing. She drops the shovel in the process, but he swoops down and tucks it into the pocket of his board shorts. “My sister needed to be with her husband today. His mom’s getting some medical testing done, so I’m helping out.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Are you kidding? I love it. Do you have any nieces or nephews?”
“No. It’s kind of hard when you don’t have siblings.”
“No way. You’re an only child?”
“Yeah. You make it sound weird.”
“No. Not at all. It’s just that I grew up with a twin brother and two sisters. Complete chaos.” Sydney puts her hands on Ryan’s cheeks, forcing him to look at her, so I don’t get the chance to ask what that was like, or if his twin is identical or fraternal.
“We play now, Unc Ry Ry?”
He touches his nose to hers. “Yes, sugar. We’ll play now. You and me and the swings. How ’bout it?”
She wriggles in his arms, and he sets her down.
With an outstretched hand, she patters toward me. “You come, too?”
I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, fully prepared to tell her I have to go.
“I, um…”
She doesn’t wait for my answer and tugs my arm, trying to pull me toward the swings. “We go now.”
Ryan kneels down so he’s eye level with her, taking both her hands in his. “Hey, sugar. Katie might not be able to, okay? We’d love for her to stay and play, but if she has to go, we understand, right?” He looks at me, his eyes sincere.
My excuse to leave blows away with the breeze. “Sure. I’d love to.”
She claps her pudgy hands together. “You build castle?”
I laugh, wondering what happened to the swing idea. “I can build a great sandcastle. We have to go closer to the water, though. Want to race?”
She giggles and scurries ahead of us. Ryan touches my arm. “Thanks. I think you’ve just made her day.” Before I can respond, he sweeps past me, scoops Sydney onto his shoulders, and jogs easily toward the water. Spinning to face me he calls, “We’re winning the race. Better hurry!”
Sydney’s laughter fills the air, and I touch a hand to my chest, wishing I could bottle the sound. I pick up my pace to a run and catch them by the shore.
I sink into the sand next to them. “The key to a great castle is the right mix of wet and dry sand.”
“Is that so? Did you come to the beach a lot as a kid?”
“Yeah. Not here—I lived in New York until I was eleven. My grandparents had a place in the Hamptons, and I’d stay with them every summer.”
Ryan pauses his scooping. “The Hamptons? As in, the rich and famous place?”
Using my hands, I add to his pile. “I guess. It was just my grandparents’ place to me. At the time, I didn’t understand how lucky I was.”
“And to think I spent my summers filling up water balloons with the hose in our backyard.”
“That actually sounds great.”
Sydney jumps on the mound Ryan has created. “Uh-oh, Unc Ry! It go boom!” And she falls into his lap, giggling.
“Hey! You crushed my masterpiece.”
She pats his head with a sandy hand. “Tha’s okay, Unc Ry. You be okay.” A flock of seagulls sidesteps closer to us, looking for food to steal. Sydney runs into the center of them. “Go home, chickens! Go home!”
Ryan shakes his head. “So much for castle building.”
“Speak for yourself. She didn’t knock mine over.” I shift so he can see the foot-high lump I’ve created.
“Wow, Katie. Those are some mad skills.”
“Thank you.”
He pats some more sand to the side of my castle. As I watch him work, I point to his hands. “Why’d you choose those specific words for your knuckles?”
He looks at them and laughs. “They were the first ones I had done. My mom was pissed. She told me I should’ve gotten a nice plaque from the Hallmark store instead of having the words inked on my skin. She got over it, though, when I reminded her she was the one who engrained it into our heads that you can’t live without love, and you can’t love if you aren’t really living your life.”
I try to imagine what his mom looks like. She probably has pretty green eyes and a captivating smile. “That’s actually very sweet. It sounds like you get along well with her.”
“She’s awesome. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without all she’s done for me.”
Oh, if he only knew how attractive he is right now. The man he is today. I could listen to him talk about that for hours. And to think if I would’ve seen him walking down the street before I knew him, I would’ve given him only a brief glance, dismissing him because he doesn’t look like the preppy guys I normally gravitate to.
Instead of asking further questions that will leave me swooning, I turn to watch Sydney as she darts across the sand. “Your niece is so cute.”
“That she is.” He turns his full gaze to her. It doesn’t escape me he’s had an eye on her the entire time. His sister would be proud. “So what else have you got planned for the day, besides creating masterpieces, that is?”
“A few errands. And I’ll probably skim through some of my law books. I start my new job Monday.”
“That’s right! How are you feeling about it? You ready?”
“I think so. I vacillate between nervous and excited.”
“You’ll kill it.”
&n
bsp; “Thanks for saying that.” I sift sand through my fingers, enjoying the warm softness of it. “There’s always that fear of the unknown, though.”
He swirls a finger in the sand, drawing a squiggly line. “Sometimes the unknown is good, though, right?”
“Not really. I like to be in the know at all times.”
He draws a smiley face, then brushes his hands together. “The gym was an unknown for you. It might’ve been scary, but you came right in, and look how that turned out.”
“Well, yeah. But that was different.”
He smiles and looks toward Sydney before returning his gaze to mine. “True. There was that hot guy at the door and all.”
The sand falls through my fingers, and I flick some at his leg. “I can’t remember.”
“Ouch.” He smiles. “But in all seriousness, I don’t think you have anything to fear. From what I’ve seen, you’re extremely intelligent, you’re resourceful,” he says, tapping a finger. “Hell, I’ve never had a client learn how to wrap her hands by watching YouTube videos. Do you know how many hands I wrap a day?”
“A lot?”
“Hell yes. But I have a feeling if you aren’t sure how to do something, you’ll figure it out. You have all the tools you need in that brain of yours. So there’s no reason to be afraid.”
In a parallel universe, I’d wrap my arms around him. But it’s here and now, and his little niece is chasing seagulls, and he’s not mine to hug. I tuck my knees to my chest. “That’s really nice of you to say. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sydney flaps her arms behind the seagulls, and they squawk in annoyance. She stumbles and falls face forward into the sand. A wail erupts from her, and Ryan rushes over to help, gently brushing sand from her face with his shirt. “Hey, small fry, you’re not supposed to eat the sand.”
This earns him a louder cry, and she buries her face in his chest. He looks up at me. “Such a short distance from laughter to tears when you’re two.” Brushing a hand down her matted curls, he says, “I should get her home for a nap.”
“I’ll walk back up with you guys.”
We reach the jogging path, and he stops by the showers. “I’ll do a quick rinse here and then tuck her in at my place.”
I touch the back of Sydney’s head. “Goodbye, Sydney. It was fun to see you today.”
“Bye-bye,” she mumbles.
Ryan mouths, “She’s almost out.” In a normal voice he says, “Are we on for Tuesday at the usual time?”
“Yep. I’ll be there.” It can’t come soon enough. I start to turn, but he taps my arm.
“I’m glad I ran into you today,” he says softly. “I was bummed I had to cancel.”
I meet his gaze. “I’m glad I saw you, too.” Without a second thought, I brush my hand down Sydney’s curls once more before giving Ryan’s arm a gentle touch. Right there on the angel with the sad eyes. I’ve never touched a tattoo before. The idea of it has always made me slightly nervous. Intellectually, I understand tattooed skin feels the same as any other, but nonetheless, they’ve always seemed very untouchable to me, like they house a lot of pain. But Ryan’s skin is smooth and warm, maybe a little salty from the ocean air. Perfect. I don’t attempt to analyze my actions or interpret what he thinks. All I know is that if the opportunity to touch him presents itself again, I won’t hesitate.
As I walk home, clumps of sand crumble from my legs. Loose strands of hair tickle my neck, and I’m covered with a fine sheen of sweat. I’m sure I look a mess. But that was the most fun I’ve had in ages.
Chapter Eight
My new boss strides to the windowsill where he presses the top of a small domed container, sending a burst of cherry mist into the air. “That’s better. I like a fresh office.” He resumes his seat and palms a bright-yellow stress ball, working it automatically, as if it’s an extension of his hand. “Welcome to your first day at Janks and Lowe.”
“Thank you. I’m happy to be here.” I dart a look to the ten tiny troll dolls that stand in a straight line on his desk, their neon hair and naked bodies daring me to laugh. Behind them, three penny-candy jars sit in a row. One holds Atomic Fireballs, the next, gummy candies, and the last one is stocked with stress balls like the one in his hand. It would be better suited as a kids’ carnival prize table, not a lawyer’s desk. I imagine Ryan’s niece would be thrilled with all the toys and candy. Being here makes it seem like an eternity since I last saw him rather than the few days it’s actually been.
Mr. York—Kenneth, that’s what he asked me to call him—plunks the ball next to the jar and taps the desk. “We’re going to have fun here. I like to work hard, but I play hard, too. It’s a fine balance.” His lips curve and return to a neutral position as though he’s a real-life GIF. “Before I introduce you around, let me make a few things clear: when there’s new meat in the office, everyone wants a bite. They’ll snatch you up and pile their grunt work on you, only to leave you buried alive.” Leaning forward, he says, “I’m telling you now—don’t get sucked into that vortex—you work for me. Period. Stay away from the hungry wolves. They won’t have your best interests at heart, but I do. I’ll make sure you’re doing only high-level projects.”
That could mean I’ll never see the light of day, but it doesn’t intimidate me in the least. This sounds like the perfect job. “I’m excited to get started. It’s sort of surreal sitting here right now.”
He nods. “It’s about to get real. Once you’re settled, I’ll have you look at the file you’ll be working up. The case isn’t a large one, but the client is important to our firm. Very important.” He lifts his eyebrows, and I notice for the first time they’re barely visible—a light reddish blond that blends with his skin. “He’s a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon who wants to bring things to a quiet end without filing a complaint. The wrong kind of attention could hurt his business. To put it plainly, the boob and Botox doctor to the stars doesn’t want to risk the privacy of his clients by inviting a media circus.” He pushes back from his desk and stands, pausing to straighten the troll with the red hair. “All right. Let’s make the rounds so I can introduce you.”
He holds the door, allowing me to step out first. At the adjacent office, he taps the door before pushing it open and stepping inside. “Brooks, I want to introduce you to our newest associate, Katie Capwell. Katie, this is Brooks McDonough. He’s on the dark side, but we forgive him because he’s a brilliant attorney. He’s not a partner here but rents space from us.” He gives him a hearty clap on the shoulder. “Everyone loves Brooks.”
I cross to shake his meaty hand. His bulky frame is covered by a crisp white dress shirt. It’s the tie that worries me. The stripes are nice—a blue-and-white diagonal pattern—but it looks like it’s capable of crushing his larynx the way he has it knotted so tightly. “Nice to meet you, Katie. Welcome to the jungle.” He booms out a laugh, causing his face to redden, and he brushes a hand down his thick mustache.
“Thanks. Happy to be a part of it.”
He coughs out another laugh. He really should loosen the tie. “Stop by if you have any defense needs. Brooks McDonough is here to help.”
“I appreciate the offer. Thanks.”
By the time we reach our final stop, my mouth hurts from smiling. I only hope I can put names to faces when I see them in the hallway. I’ll have to review the firm website again tonight, just to be on the safe side. The door is open, and I follow Kenneth in, my polite smile firmly in place. “Craig, I’d like you to meet Katie Capwell, our newest associate.”
I definitely recognize him from his website profile. He’s even better looking in real life. To be honest, everyone here is rather attractive. Well, maybe not Kenneth, but he certainly has a commanding presence.
“Ah yes. Word is out that you’re Lin Collins-Capwell’s daughter.”
“I am.”
“Must be nice.” His gaze is cold.
“Why do you say that?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t pret
end that you’re not aware of the fact that your mother wields some serious power in the legal world. She could’ve gotten you a job anywhere.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Unless you lack gray matter. That would make things difficult.”
“Fortunately for me, I don’t have that problem.”
Kenneth bobs his head back and forth, as though he’s enjoying a tennis match.
Craig rolls back in his chair and spins to face his computer screen. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a motion in limine due.”
Kenneth waves an angry hand toward him. “Don’t be an ass, Craig. She deserves to be here.”
“Of course she does. Welcome.” He forces a tight smile that I don’t bother returning. We step into the hallway, and Kenneth waits until we’re well past Craig’s office before he breaks the silence. “Ignore him. He was pushing hard for a friend to get the position.”
“And he thinks I got the job because of my mom.”
He shrugs. “It happens all the time.”
But not with me. She insisted they could hire whomever they wanted.
He turns slightly, catching my expression. “Who cares what anyone thinks? Craig can get over it as far as I’m concerned.”
I wonder how many others think I got the job because I’m Lin Collins-Capwell’s daughter. Maybe their good wishes were obligatory. We reach the reception area, and Kenneth stops. “How’d you like to get some lunch? My treat.”
At least my boss seems happy to have me here. “That sounds great.” My stomach rumbles as I speak. I was too nervous to eat much breakfast.
A relentless sun beats down as we step outside, and I wonder if Kenneth used sunscreen this morning. With his pale skin, he must burn easily. I slip off my blazer and whip on my sunglasses. The sidewalks are jammed with people rushing past us. Only the homeless man slumped on a bus bench is still, his gnarled hand loosely gripping a tattered Styrofoam cup. A cardboard sign sits next to him, the words GOD BLESS scrawled in all caps. I wonder where he found a marker.