Fredric pushed away from his computer, closing down his to-do list and letting out a small sigh, because he was nowhere near accomplishing any of his goals. He’d spent the afternoon in quiet contemplation, realizing he didn’t want a PA who ran his life like before. He wanted to be in charge of it all, but he wasn’t quite sure where to get started.
It helped that he was doing fine so far. He could call for a car if he needed to get somewhere, he could do the shopping on his own, he could make his appointments and get there. He was no longer afraid of the abstract space in front of him, but there was still a feeling of discontent lodged in his gut. He was away from his old life—he was free. But now there were several paths in the road, and he didn’t know which one to take. He didn’t want to be idle. For as much as Corinne mocked him for retiring at such a young age, that wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted something that made him feel alive again.
Corporate law was an empty shell lining his pockets and filling his kids’ trust funds. His name and reputation were meaningless to him now. What was the point of a fresh start if he went back to everything that made him miserable?
He almost considered calling Agatha to cancel because his isolation had put him on edge, and the last thing he wanted to do was take his temper out on two people who had only gone out of their way to make him feel welcome. But he had to try—he had to do this. He had to prove to himself that the years he’d scraped by and worked on himself and on what might be, was now his reality and not just a reflection of one.
Fredric wasn’t by nature a fussy person, but tonight felt important. He took his time in the shower, then combed his hair with the fancy Italian product Ilan had gotten him for his birthday the year before, the scent reminding him of the younger man. He took his time in the closet, his fingers brushing over clothes, but nothing really felt like him. He missed some of his old comforts, like having someone at his disposal to tell him whether or not he looked like an old man clinging to youth. He felt more at home in suits, but he was trying to find comfort in the unfamiliar. In the end, he went with a soft shirt and a pair of jeans that hadn’t seen the light of day since he took them off the rack. They felt strange on him—so unlike his usual, but he supposed that was the point.
With a sigh, he turned to Sebastian, who was waiting patiently at the foot of the bed. “Well? Will I do?”
As usual, the dog said nothing, though he got a small lick to the tip of his fingers, so he decided to take it as a win. After a beat of letting himself feel his nerves, he moved to the living room, picked up his phone, and dialed Agatha.
“Please tell me you’re not calling to cancel,” she said, and he felt a sweep of guilt for even considering it.
“No. I was hoping you might come over and walk me? I haven’t been able to work with Bas on the path to your front door, and honestly, he could probably use the evening off.”
Agatha’s voice was bright in his ear. “Oh, for sure. And I promise I won’t report a stalker if you want to start leading him over during the day. I’ll be two minutes.”
The line went dead before he could get another word in, and he smiled to himself as he moved to the living room and went to the shelf for Bas’ treats. “Bed,” he command and waited for the sound of soft paws and the quiet huff as the dog got comfortable. Kneeling down made his knees ache, but he nuzzled against Bas’ neck before feeding him the treat.
“Promise to be good?” he asked, then laughed at himself. “You know, Julian would never let me live this down if he heard the way I was talking to you now.” Fredric allowed himself a moment to fiercely miss his son before he pushed himself up to stand.
He walked to the coat rack by the door and grabbed his cane, then perched on the edge of his love seat and tried not to count the seconds it took for Agatha to run over. Her enthusiasm made him feel even older than he was, and that created a small ache in his gut.
He’d tasted a sudden desire to start dating again, he was starting to wonder if it was a fool’s errand. After all, he wasn’t old, but he was older. He was used goods—and he wasn’t quite sure there was a human alive he’d be able to trust in order to find contentment, let alone happiness. The thought of being alone for the rest of his life was gutting, but the thought of inflicting all his issues on another person was horrifying.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock, and Fredric ran his hand over his hair one last time before reaching for the door and opening it. He offered a smile at the sound of her feet shuffling, like maybe she was nervous.
“Hey. So, um, how do I…you know? Do this so you don’t fall.”
He reached out a hand, and she took it. “I’ve got my cane to keep me from falling. I just need you to lead the way.”
Her fingers were cold in his, but they didn’t cling as he drew a path up her arm to the back of her elbow, then followed her careful steps as she turned and moved away from the door. He let go only a second to lock up, then resumed his pace, and he was grateful she didn’t walk him across the pavement like he was a hundred-year-old man with two broken feet.
“I’ve never done this before,” she said after a beat, and he couldn’t help his laugh.
“You know, most people haven’t, but you’re doing fine. Better than most.” The path was smooth under his cane tip, and he felt it shift from cement to grass, then to the asphalt as they left his driveway. “I really appreciate you having me over. I wasn’t actually sure I’d make friends this soon.”
“Oh.” She was silent a while. “Are we friends? Most of the neighbors don’t like me.”
His brows lifted high, startled because she talked a lot and had little filter, but he found everything about her so damn charming. “Why’s that? Are they terrible people?”
She hummed. “Probably. They kind of wrote me off after we moved here because they didn’t really like Teddy. He jokes that it’s his green hair, but I think it’s the tattoos. And probably that his top surgery scars are obvious, and he mows the lawn without his shirt on. Which is because I like it,” she added, and Fredric felt his face split into a grin.
“Eye candy?”
Agatha laughed, and he felt her shoulder rise and fall in a shrug. “I think a lot of the people here think that people like us shouldn’t have money, you know? Or we shouldn’t use our money to take up space in the neighborhoods they expect to be a certain way. But Teddy’s an artist—he does shows across the world, his paintings and sculptures go for a lot of money. He’s in three dozen museums, and he owns his own gallery.”
Fredric’s grin only got wider at the sort of pure and innocent pride in her voice. “It sounds like he’s done amazing for himself.”
“He worked hard, and I don’t give a fuck what those people think.”
Gently squeezing her arm, he pulled her to a stop as he felt his cane touch pavement again. “Promise me you won’t ever give a fuck.” He felt it, the need to know that if he could offer even the smallest bit of advice to help her avoid the people he’d spent his life trying to please, she’d take it. “They’re never worth it.”
“You sound like you know.”
“I do,” he said. “I grew up in that world, married into it, raised my kids there. I sat in a courtroom and helped defend those people.”