“Making people feel capable.” I nodded toward the now-blank screen before tipping my head up to receive his kiss. “Maya was confidently taking notes on what sounded like a Q4 campaign rollout, which seemed like a launch that would intimidate someone twice her level. You make people believe they can actually do the impossible thing you’re asking them to do.” I smiled. “It’s a gift.”
Something shifted in his expression and I found a softness I didn’t see often enough. The usual tension in his shoulders eased, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable, like he’d been bracing for criticism and got acceptance instead. When was the last time someone had simply told Jonah he was good at something without expecting more?
The moment drew out, and his gaze held mine for a long moment before he nodded.
“Come,” he said, pulling me toward the kitchen while I tried to tug him toward the couch instead.
“We’re doing that next,” he said, gesturing back at the couch with a mischievous glint in his eye.
I grinned and turned to find the table set for breakfast.
He’d made me avocado toast with poached eggs topped with sesame seeds, a bowl of mixed berries, and a cappuccino on the side.
“Eat,” he ordered, and I sat down, curious about what was going on.
I took a sip of the cappuccino he’d placed beside my plate, and I got my answer.
A little card lay on the table, and I reached for it, clearly drawn by Evie.
“She made it for you yesterday and asked me to give it to you in case you missed her,” he said, pushing it toward me.
I opened it and saw the wordsMommy, I love youwritten inside. She’d drawn a unicorn and her and me as two princesseswith a castle in the background.Let’s play the princess game when you’re back, she’d written. Underneath, she’d written in small letters,Jonah can be the prince if he wants to.
I looked up to find Jonah watching me intently. “Do you want to see it?” I asked.
I couldn’t believe it; his face lit up as he reached for it.
“I’m in it,” he pointed out, showing me the tiny prince she’d drawn, the one I’d mistaken for a cute little snowman.
“Is that you? I thought that was Olaf,” I said while Jonah snorted and pulled me to him.
“There’s no way I’m that round,” he grunted.
“Okay, fine. You’re more of a … rugged Kristoff type. With a better jawline.”
“That’s more like it,” he said, but he was still smiling at the snowman version of himself like it was the best thing he’d ever been turned into.
After breakfast, I made a quick call to Anne.
I spoke to Evie for fifteen minutes while Anne made Evie blueberry waffles in the background and hung up later, feeling soothed and looking forward to what Jonah had planned.
That afternoon, Jonah ordered in, and we binge-watched three episodes ofTheGreat British Bake Offwhile Jonah held me close on the sofa. We snuggled, fed each other from a giant bowl of popcorn, and laughed. Oh, there was plenty of laughter.
I couldn’t remember another time when I’d had this much fun.
I was having the best day of my life.
53
JONAH
Isat at a table in Milo’s Diner, a small-time diner on 5thStreet, while I faced Margaret, Lexi’s Mom. It was noon, and the place was decently busy, with enough noise that our conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
I hadn’t wasted any time after my conversation with Lexi at my home on Saturday. I’d contact Margaret and she’d agreed to meet me on Tuesday.
She had driven in with Clark the night before, and had stayed at a motel in Queens. Going by the prim line of her mouth as she sat across the table from me, she was more than just disappointed. We’d just finished ordering when Margaret spoke.
“I’m just saying,” she began, “I hope you can move me into a better room for the night,” she said. “There’s a delightful little hotel down the street from where I’m staying. The Marriott, I believe, that looks just?—”
