I finally cracked a smile. “Tenacious.”
“And youlikeit,” she laughed.
It was the first time I’d heard her laugh since Aspen.
“Anyway, I want you to come up with two reasons you’re comfortable admitting on camera to explain why you weren’tyourself that day on the courthouse steps. But they need to be sound bite-able. For example, if we were to look at a recent challenging moment in my life, I’d talk about the time someone dumped water all over me at the airport and didn’t apologize. As much as I’d love to, Ican’tsay I wanted to kill the guy with my bare hands, because that would make me look like a hothead.” She paused and gave me a cheeky smile. “Even if he deserved it.”
“Right,” I rolled my eyes.
“And Ican’tsay that said dump-er and I also have history, which made me even angrier in the moment.”
“Okaaay,” I drew the word out.
“What Icansay, during a cute little interview on national television, is that it was one of those crazy days where nothing was going right—the plane was late, I was running and getting sweaty, and wouldn’t ya know it, I got a complimentary shower from a handsome stranger.”
I frowned at her. “But that’s too much backstory.”
“That’sentertainment. And spin. I’d love to dissect the real emotion behind your outburst on the courthouse steps, but I know you’re not comfortable with being that revealing, so we’re going to pivot to acknowledging your rough day without being specific about anything you’d rather not discuss.” She pushed her hair off her face and didn’t break eye contact.
“The point isn’t to throw a pity party for you. We’ll get some sympathy by hinting at you dealing with something hard, but we won’t dwell on it. We need to put the spotlight onhowyou’re going to make up for what you did wrong,notthe reason why it happened.”
I liked her direction, and I was nodding my head as I silently agreed. I wasn’t about to open the door to talk about my divorce, so finding a couple of vague, palatable reasons for being in a grumpier mood than usual made sense.
“I’m on it,” I said with a salute. “And unfortunately, I need to head out.”
“Of course you do,” she said. “I’m sure you have a dozen galas on your calendar. With a model on each arm.”
“Hardly,” I chuckled. “My friend just found out he and his wife are having a baby, and he needs help cleaning out what will eventually be a nursery but is currently a junk room.”
Gwen froze, then pressed one hand over her heart. “Holy shit.Twoselfless activities in one day? I don’t know you at all, Harrison Ashford.”
We held one another’s gaze because we both knew it wasn’t true. We’d revealed quite a bit of our true selves in Aspen, but we wouldn’t have that luxury in the real world.
“Anyway, I like this version of you.” Gwen gestured around the space. “Thanks for letting me be a part of this.”
“Not like I had much choice,” I teased her. “But you’re welcome. And thanks for the help with the deposits.” I pointed to the overflowing trash can.
Forty minutes later, I was still thinking about Gwen as I rang the doorbell at Kevin’s.
“There he is!” Sydney flung open the door and beamed at me. She was five feet of sunshine, the perfect partner for my best friend. “The giver of the most beautiful bouquet we’ve ever received. Thank you, Harrison!”
She pulled me into a hug, then moved away to study me.
“Why are you all smiley?”
“Me?” I pointed at myself. “You must be mistaken. I haven’t smiled since the year two thousand.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Kevin said as he threaded through the boxes and furniture in his front room.
We laughed and bro-hugged. No matter how many years passed, Kevin didn’t change. He still had the same half-grown-out ginger buzz cut, the same scruff along his jaw that he’d had when we’d first met seventeen years ago.
“You ready to get to work?” he asked me. “Because the room is a nightmare.”
“Sorry,” Sydney cringed.
“I’m sure it’s fine. We’ve got this,” I said.
But Kevin pushed the door open, and—no. Nope. We definitely did not have this.
