Page 25 of Beneficial Misfortune

“No.”

“How long have you been in New York, exactly?” he asks, and I laugh. I guess it’s a fair question, considering I didn’t know him or anything else, it would seem.

“Um,” I say, quickly counting back in my mind. “Seven months, almost eight now, but I don’t get out much.”

He nods, turning back to look at the menu, and I do the same.

There are so many choices, and everything sounds so good. How am I supposed to decide?

“So what can I get you?” Remy asks, and like me, Addison stands staring at the selection as if making a choice is impossible.

“What do you recommend?” I ask Nathaniel. Clearly, he’s been here before, so he’s sure to have a good recommendation.

“What flavors sound best to you?” He answers my question with one of his own, nodding to the flavor board above us.

“All of them,” I say with a chuckle, because that’s the problem.

He chuckles as well, but my indecisiveness doesn’t seem to phase him.

“Let me have a classic signature cone with caramel, L'inimitabile, and vanilla with the salted butter caramel macaron,” he says to Remy, and damn, that does sound good, even if I’m not sure what it all is.

“Oh, I want that too, Daddy!” Addison says, turning to look up at him with big, wide eyes.

“Of course, Princess,” he tells her, bending down to scoop her up into his arms. “Make that two, Remy.”

“You got it,” Remy says, already moving to start assembling our cones. “And your Americano as usual?” he calls back as he finishes the first cone, turning to present it to Addison.

Holy shit! That has got to be the prettiest ice cream cone I’ve ever seen. Each flavor is sculpted to look like the petals of a flower, with the flavor changing as it moves in toward the center,and in the middle sits a macaron. The smile on Addison’s face lets me know she also loves it, and she wastes no time taking a large bite of the macaron the second the cone is in her hand.

“Mmm, it’s so yummy. Thank you!”

Remy smiles at her before turning away to start mine, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been more excited about getting ice cream in my life.

“No, I’ll have a mint chocolate chip today, please,” Nathaniel says, earning a questioning glance from Remy. He doesn’t say anything aloud, instead continuing to scoop ice cream for my cone.

My ice cream is ready next, and somehow, it tastes even better than it looks, which I didn’t think was possible.

Nathaniel sets Addison down so that he can grab his own cone, and we follow him to the register to pay. I watch him as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, not even realizing I’m staring until my jaw almost hits the floor as he hands the young girl a black card. I’ve never seen a black card except in movies. Even Carter hadn’t been able to get one, and I’d thought he was rich.

I knew Nathaniel had a lot of money; not only had he told me as much, but my Google search confirmed it. However, knowing it and seeing it are very different things.

Addison stands with me as he pays, and Remy prepares a cup that he hands Nathaniel before we head out with a quick goodbye. Addison might be enjoying her ice cream, but I think it’s safe to say she’s excited about the park.

She skips beside me, out the door, and back to the limo that’s still waiting.

Nathaniel is a few steps behind us, having been finishing up at the counter when we headed for the door. I reach out to open the door for Addison, but before I can, he’s there.

He steps around me, his ice cream in one hand and the cup pressed between his arm and his chest. He reaches out to grab the handle and opens the door before I can.

I stand, somewhat shocked. I know he’d been behind me, so why rush to get the door, especially when his hands are full?

Addison doesn’t seem to notice as she crawls in with her ice cream, but I hesitate a moment. It’s not until Nathaniel holds his arm out in a gesture for me to go next that I finally move, not wanting to hold us up. Nathaniel slides in behind me without a word, pulling the door closed before moving along the bench seat to the dividing window and offering the cup to Vincent.

“Thanks, boss,” he says with a laugh that makes Nathaniel huff. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel as though I’m missing something.

Vincent takes a sip, humming his approval as he pulls away from the curb. We ride in silence, everyone quiet as we enjoy our treats. Not even five minutes later, we stop again, and I see the playground. Addison is moving the second the car stops. Flinging the door open with a squeal, she takes off without looking back.

I follow her out, fighting the urge to run after her, but Nathaniel doesn’t seem concerned that she’s gone, so I try not to be either.

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