Page 10 of Worth the Fall

And it feels good, really good. As much as I thought I would never get over losing Cameron, it feels good to be excited about something again… about someone.

I’m not sure if this is what moving forward looks like or maybe it’s just a rebound, but either way, it’s a lot better than wallowing in the past. And hey, embarrassing yourself in front of attractive men, sending mortifying autocorrect messages, and learning to laugh about it instead of hiding behind legal briefs and emergency chocolate is a huge improvement as far as I’m concerned.

CHAPTER 2

Miguel

From the moment my eyes crack open, I know this morning is going to be a challenge. Felicity's princess dress, complete with enough glitter to supply a craft store, is already laid out on her tiny dresser. I spot it the second I peek into her room, where she's sitting up in bed with her wild curls sticking in every direction, waiting for me with a smile that could melt glaciers.

"Daddy! It's princess day!" She bounces on her bed, her brown eyes sparkling with the kind of enthusiasm only a five-year-old can muster at six thirty in the morning.

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the exhaustion from last night's late contract review weighing on me. "Princess, remember we talked about saving dress-up for after school?"

"But Daddyyyyy." Her lip pooches out. "Ms. Jenny said we could wear costumes!" She crosses her tiny arms, bottom lip already trembling. I'm about to stand my ground when I remember the email from yesterday—she's right. It is "Fantasy Friday" at preschool.

"How about we save the tiara for after finger painting?" I try to negotiate, already knowing I'm fighting a losing battle. "We don't want to get paint on the crown jewels."

Felicity's face scrunches up in thought, considering this diplomatic proposal with all the gravity of a financial merger. "The tiara stays in my cubby until art is over?"

"Deal." I hold out my pinky, and we seal the agreement with the solemnity it deserves. Small victories, right?

I never expected to be a single dad. I’m not sure most people do but life had other plans—or Celine, my now ex-wife, had other plans. Plans I wasn’t aware of until I walked in on her and our twenty-two-year-old neighbor making those plans right in our bed.

My stomach sizzles in discomfort at the memory—an image I’ll never be able to erase from my mind no matter how much I try. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, reminding myself that whatever issues Celine and I had in our marriage that led to its demise didn’t involve Felicity and she doesn’t deserve to have those bitter memories taint her world.

"Alright, baby girl," I say, holding out my arms toward her. "Let’s get you princess-a-fied!"

"Princess day!" she squeals at the top of her lungs before launching herself into my arms.

Now the morning whirlwind begins in earnest. I'm trying to wrangle Felicity's curls into something resembling order while simultaneously attempting to knot my tie. There's a reason I usually do this part before getting her ready, but last night's late preparation for my first day at Blake Financial threw off our routine.

"Let me do it." Felicity smacks my hand away from the tie with her chubby fingers, tugging down hard on the back portion to tighten the knot.

"Whoa." I cough when the tie cinches around my neck. "A little too tight today, sweetie." I laugh, attempting to fix it as best I can while glancing at my watch.

Shit, running very late already.

"Daddy, you have sparkles in your hair." Felicity giggles, reaching up to pat my head after running her fingers through it. I catch a glimpse of myself in her mirror and she's not wrong. Somehow, I've become a walking disco ball with my once neatly combed hair now sticking up in every direction and I have a meeting with the partners in less than two hours.

The doorbell chimes just as I'm finishing the second pigtail, and Felicity's hair is only half-done. Perfect timing, as always. "One minute!" I call out, knowing full well it's Mrs. Rodriguez from next door, right on schedule to check if we need anything. She's appointed herself our unofficial grandmother since the divorce, and while I appreciate it, her timing is impressively terrible.

I glance down at my suit, realizing I'm half-covered in princess stickers, something Felicity must have done while I was focused on her hair. Fantastic. Nothing says "competent corporate counsel" quite like tiny tiaras and unicorns decorating your lapel.

"Daddy made the toast black again!" Felicity announces cheerfully to Mrs. Rodriguez when I finally open the door, still picking stickers off my jacket. I'd attempted to recreate Celine's famous French toast this morning—a misguided effort to show our daughter that Dad can make special breakfast too. The smoke alarm's triumphant symphony and the charred remains in my sink tell a different story.

"Mijo, you know I can make you both breakfast." Mrs. Rodriguez clucks, already heading toward my kitchen like she owns the place. The smell of burnt toast lingers accusingly in the air.

"We're actually heading to McDonald's," I admit, trying not to sound as defeated as I feel. "Big first day at Blake Financial."

"In that fancy suit? With all that…" She gestures to the remaining glitter and stickers, fighting a smile.

"It's a new look. Very in right now. All the top lawyers are wearing glitter this season." I straighten my tie with as much dignity as I can muster, which isn't much.

"You need a woman," she says matter-of-factly. Another endearing if not somewhat frustrating characteristic I’ve learned to accept about her.

"Maybe, but right now, I need a miracle to make it out of here on time."

"Why does Daddy need a woman?" It’s always the things you don’t want kids to pick up on that they notice.

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