Page 107 of The Perfect Mistake

Alec’s assistant looks up at me. “Have a great day,” he tells me in a tone that is so professional it makes me certain he suspects something. I round the corner, heading down the hallway away from the CEO’s office and toward the other executive suites.

“Oh!” A woman stops a few feet away. Auburn-haired, familiar, and smiling. “Isabel? What are you doing here?”

“Hi!” Connie and I hug, and my cheeks burn. Maybe the hug was a wrong move? Maybe I smell like cologne and sex now?

But she just steps back, a smile still gracing her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to drop something off. Alec forgot his wallet at home this morning.”

She shakes her head. “Really? He made you do that?”

“Oh, I was happy to. It’s fun to see Contron,” I say like an idiot. It feels like what Alec and I just did is written all over my face, stamped on my forehead, hovering in the air between us.

But Connie just laughs. “Really? Well, I can give you a tour any day. You should have told me, we could have had lunch.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be busy,” I say. It’s a total lie. I hadn’t even thought about it, and guilt washes over me.

She sighs. “You’re probably right. I’m working on our latest investment right now, and there’s so much paperwork to get through and to understand. Hey, it’s actually great that you’re here. Are you free on Sunday? Gabriel and I are throwing a party.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yeah. Remember how he used to have those poker nights? Well, we’re doing it again. Trying to merge our groups of friends.” She reaches out, puts a hand on my shoulder. “There’ll be a ton of new people there. Hot guys, too. You should come.”

I find myself nodding. “That sounds amazing. I’ll be there.”

She beams, smiling brightly. “Great! I was actually just heading to Alec’s to tell him that he has to come, too. I think he’ll have a harder time refusing me if I ask him in person and not through an email.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I see that.”

“He needs to get out more,” she says. “See you Sunday?”

“Yes, that sounds great. Can’t wait.”

She gives me a goodbye hug before disappearing down the corridor in the direction of her brother’s office, and his large, now-cluttered desk.

And my guilt grows.

Alec

It’s a warm November day, unusual for the season, and we all choose to walk home from Willa’s tennis game. She struts happily in front of me with her ponytail swinging, as always tired from her practice but happy in spirit. I should make it a point to show up to her practices more often. She’d been great on the court. Played her heart out, the same way she does everything, putting in her whole soul.

Sam’s hand is in mine. Unusual, because he dislikes being shackled to my side, preferring to run and touch and inspect everything a New York sidewalk has to offer. He’s chatting happily to Isabel. They’re coming up with absurd superhero powers. I don’t know who started, but it’s clear this is a running topic between the two of them.

Her voice is calm and interested, responding to everything he says, even as crazy as some of his comments are. It’s nice to listen to.

More than nice.

I had planned to spend tomorrow night with just her, maybe take her out to a restaurant, selfish as that would have been. But then Connie had walked into my office and guilt-tripped me into coming to her party. It’s shameful to admit, even only to myself, that her mentioning Isabel’s attendance had tipped the scales.

My little sister has an entire life now that I know practically nothing about. A husband, a new apartment, and work that is increasingly separate from mine. The last few months have shown me that I’ve been failing at being a big brother, too. Seems like I’m falling short in all of my roles.

Son, father, brother, CEO… the only role I feel confident in is lover. Making Isabel come, giving her pleasure, and playing around with her fantasies. Maybe adding a dinner to the mix was a bad idea. But starting this with her in the first place was a tremendously bad fucking idea, and I’ve already made it.

And I can’t find it in myself to regret it. I don’t think I ever will.

Even if I’m only a passing stop, destined to be nothing but a fun memory before she dances onward and upward in life. Away from me and this nanny position, out of my arms and into someone else’s. A man her own age. A man without two kids. One who isn’t a widower or a CEO, who has the time to take her out to dinner every night, and make love to her in a bed they share.

“The power to have endless bowls of cereals,” Isabel tells Sam. “No matter how much you eat, it’s always full.”

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