“Hear, hear!” Jace, Jagger and I lift our glasses.
“At least you guys haven’t turned to the dark side,” Bear says, “You’re still men. Rightly so. I’d have to slash my wrists open if former rockers like you lads would have descended into the annals of cock-less wimps who think glitter is the solution to all their problems.”
“That'll never happen,” Jace affirms. “We might be fathers, but we’re still bad boy rockers at heart, right boys?”
“Well, in my case, glitter was the answer to all my problems today,” I say.
Three pairs of blue eyes stare at me.
“What?” Jace and Bear’s shocked expression is priceless.
I share with Bearnard and my cousins my eventful morning, the joy those donuts brought Naomi and how she couldn't stop talking about them when Mrs. Talbot picked her up. My little girl even grabbed an extra donut to share with her cousins and her nanny. That kind of stuff warms a father's heart. Of course, I say nothing about Everly. Jagger won't ask too many questions, but Jace will drill me.
“Aaahhh. Those were the days when my lassies were still wee.” Bear has three teenage girls. He opens his mouth to say something, but his brother waves him over. “Sorry, mates, I've got to go back to playing boss,” he chuckles. “I'll be back to check up on ya in a bit.”
All three of us answer with a nod.
“When a grown man is excited about sprinkled donuts, you know it's time for an intervention,” Jace says as Bear walks away from our table.
Once he’d retired from the music industry, my cousin did a one-eighty. He took the US by storm as a flashy tell-it-like-it-is life coach for single dads. You wouldn’t believe his following.
“There's nothing wrong with me. I'm simply a father. Just like you,” I respond.
“You don't hear me going on about fucking glittered donuts.”
“You have a boy. It’s different when you have a girl,” I defend.
“It is,” Jagger chimes in. “I've been telling him that for five years.”
Ryder is six, but Jace didn’t know he had a son until his kid was fifteen months old.
“Your dry spell is affecting your brain and your fucking balls,” Jace sneers. “Lucky for you, I know exactly what kind of remedy you need, dear cuz. Get your cock wet and glitter will be the least of your concerns.”
“I’ve been busy, Jace,” I remind him. “I have other things on my mind than pussy. It was more important for me to make sure my daughter adjusts to life back in LA after two years away than chasing skirt.” So what if my celibacy is self-imposed.
He gives me this weird side-look. “Is that your excuse? Like you were fucking your way through London.”
“Fuck off!”
I really have to stop telling him so much.
“Just because he's a life coach, he thinks he knows everything,” Jagger shakes his head with an eye roll.
“Whatever,” Jace throws at his brother. “You can redeem yourself tomorrow,” he says, turning his attention back to me.
I furrow my eyebrows.
“Our dates with Trish and her cousin Kendra. Whatever you do, make sure to break your dry spell tomorrow night. Trish tells me Kendra is very eager to meet you.”
“Shit,” I wince.
Trish Hodges was an attendee at one of Jace’s expensive weekend boot camps for single dads in Chicago three months ago. Jace’s audience consists of wealthy execs, dot-com whiz kids and a lot of men in the medical field. Trish was sitting pretty in the audience because she was hoping to catch the attention of one of those wealthy heavy hitters. She caught Jace’s. They’ve been on this kinky distance affair ever since. Kendra Winters is her single cousin who’s tagging along with her.
“Don't tell me you forgot,” Jace harps. I haven't, but I was hoping for a change of plan on their part. “Holt, we agreed on the date a month ago because Naomi has a sleepover.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble.
“Don't be like that,” Jace says. “This is perfect. They’re cousins, we’re cousins.”
“I prefer to take care of business when I travel… away from my daughter… if you know what I mean,” I tell him. “It's easier that way. No fuss, no muss. And more importantly, no freaking drama.”
“Trish and Kendra are only here for the weekend,” Jace reminds me. “They're flying back to Chicago early Monday morning… just when you're leaving for NYC. The timing couldn't be better.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why do you always drag me into these things, Jace? How come your brother is never your wingman?”
“Because I'm smart,” Jagger retorts.
“No, because there's no amount of help that can drag you out of your dark cave,” Jace snaps back. “Had it not been for Bree, we’d never see you. You've given up on women, therefore, you've given up on your cock, remember?” Jace tells Jagger.
“It's best that way,” Jagger grumbles before taking a gulp of his drink. His mood changes and you can see him shutdown.
Jace should know better.
CHAPTER 7
Everly
Callum has declared this year the ‘stepping out of my comfort zone’ year. The Flashback Fridays, which kicked off in January, were just the beginning. Last month it was my dramatic hair color change. I can’t say ombré hair was ever something I considered before, but famed hairstylist Gregory Simeon changed that. Gregory is my cousin Ainsley’s—and other LA socialites’—go-to guy. Gregory was certain purple ends were for me. I thought he was high. I spent half a day at his salon and when he was done, I had this rich sheen of dark purplish-red color coating the ends of my long hair. I loved it!
Because I’d fled home to leave the pain behind, Callum made it his mission to pull me out of my shell. That’s why he comes up with a new challenge every month. He’s done a great job of it. Most challenges have been quite fun. Except for this one.
This month Callum declared it was time to take things to new heights—literally. So here we are on one of my rare Saturdays off and I’m standing on the Santa Monica Pier a few minutes away from staring death in the face. Let the good times roll. Not! Since Callum is manning the shop, his twin sister, Ainsley, is my wing-person.
“That’s freaking high,” Ainsley says.
“No kidding.”
“I can’t believe you let Callum talk you into this.” Ainsley’s head is tilted way back and her hand is shielding her eyes from the sun. “Too bad it isn’t raining. You could’ve cancelled.” She lets out a loud laugh.
“You know Callum. He would've rescheduled.” My head is also tilted way back.
God, that’s high.
“You’re right,” she says, looking down at me. Ainsley isn’t as tall as her twin brother, but she sure as a hell is taller than I am. “Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.” She slides her designer shades over her face, hiding her blue eyes. “Saks Fifth Avenue in Beverly Hills is having a ‘Just Landed’ event for French designer Rocha Roche and I’m here holding your hand instead of giving my Black Amex a good workout. Don’t ever say I don’t love you.”