To Brooklyn, With Love (Completed) - Finding You Book 2

Brooklyn, cont.

It's been a long time since I've been on a date, if that's what this actually is. Drinks at a dive bar with Nick was hardly sweet or memorable, and the nights usually ended in rough, drunken sex because I craved the feeling, no matter how I could get it. Thinking about it hurts, especially now, as I'm sitting in the nicest dress I've ever seen, let alone owned, drinking a 50-year-old bottle of cabernet with Harrison.

My past doesn't define my future, I tell myself. I wasn't a slut, I was desperate to dig my way out of that hell, I tell myself. But if he knew and saw the things I've done in my past, I can't imagine he'd be looking at me the way he is now, and that hurts, too. Even if it is just my assumption.

I close my eyes, suck in the tears that have been welling in my eyes for the last few seconds, and tell myself not to think about any of it now. I deserve to be happy, and being here with Harry reminds me I can.

"Have I told you you look amazing?" Harrison smiles as his eyes float over me adoringly. It warms me, and I smile.

"Only a dozen times," I smile. "Harry. We're in the Eiffel Tower!" I squeal, then cover my mouth.

"I know," he smiles genuinely. "I'm glad you're happy,"

"I am," I say softly. "Really happy,"

The restaurant is busy, but our table is fairly private and I feel like we're all alone. Harrison orders our entrees, mostly because I don't speak french, and we settle into conversation in a way we haven't before.

"Your meetings went well?" I ask as the waiter sets a bowl of soup in front of me.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs. "But I'd rather not talk business tonight," he smiles. "Or ever,"

Harrison's smile fades and his eyes flash with a hint of sadness.

"Have you always known you'd take over for your father when he retired?"

"Yes," he says. "When I was four-years-old he set me in his big leather desk chair, the same one I have today, and spun me backwards so I was overlooking the city. He told me one day I'd be just like him, but even at four I knew that wasn't a good thing,"

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" I ask.

"A teacher," he says easily with a big smile. "I had some amazing teachers growing up that had a big impact on my life. I wanted to do the same,"

"So why didn't you?" I ask. Maybe I'm pushing too many buttons, but the man who is spilling his heart out in front of me is beautiful in a way I've never seen. I want to know more of him.

"Because it's my legacy," he says flatly. "Because I'd be incredibly stupid to give up what's been given to me when it means a solid future for Sophie," he continues. "And because after Lindsey died, Sophie was the only light I had left. The hopes and dreams I had for my family were crushed, and I buried myself in work because it was easier than burying myself in memories and sorrows,"   

The honesty of his words is painful, but I can tell he needs to say them.

"She was beautiful," I say softly, recalling the photos. "You were a beautiful family," I offer.

"Thank you. I know we've never talked much about it. About Lindsey, I mean," he swallows. "But I want you to know me. All of me. Good, bad and weird," his smile is adorable, but I know he's only wearing it to make this easier on me. "And my late wife is a big part of who I am.

"I met her when I was 19 and we fell together quickly, but our life wasn't perfect the way it may seem in the photos on my wall. We told ourselves we could have everything we wanted. When the doctors told her she couldn't carry a child, she was determined not to let that stop us from having a family, so we sought other methods and beautiful baby Sophie was born,"