Page 12 of Worth the Fall

Even before the affair, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up the same pace I had for so long, not once Felicity came along. I didn’t want to spend late nights in the office away from her and her mother. I wanted to be there for every late-night feeding, every milestone and dirty diaper… but I wasn’t.

Tarryn must notice something shift in my expression because she smoothly transitions to showing me our case management system, giving me a moment to compose myself.

"I know I threw a lot at you, but please don’t hesitate to ask me questions. I’m going to be at my desk if you need anything."

She shuts the door to my office, leaving me alone for the first time today and instantly, my thoughts drift to Mia. To be fair, she was on my mind the second I opened my eyes this morning… and when I closed my eyes to go to sleep last night. A warmth spreads through my chest, remembering the way it felt to rest my hand against her this weekend. The electric tingle that ran through my body when she shook my hand, the same tingle I’m feeling right now.

I pull my phone from my pocket, opening our last text conversation. I hold it up and smile, taking a selfie of myself in my new office, the Chicago skyline in the windows behind me. My smile fades when I look at the photo. My hair is still sticking up every which way, my tie severely askew from where Felicityattempted to tighten it and a sticker stuck to the side of my temple.

"Oh, hell no." I delete the photo from the text, deciding my attention is best focused on my appearance rather than trying to flirt with a woman who reached out to me for legal advice and not a date, that tinge of disappointment lingering when I reread Mia’s text. Apart from her cute typo, she made no reference to this being a date or having any interest in me outside of a professional capacity. And while I’m aware that my looks have never been an issue for me, I’m not naive enough to think that leads to anything meaningful… Celine proved that to me.

I slip into my private restroom, readjusting my tie and fixing my hair as best I can. I remove three more stickers, picking at the glitter that is so embedded in my suit it’s no use.

"You’re a confident man, Miguel. You’re a good father and provider," I say to myself, repeating the affirmations my divorce therapist told me would be the key to moving on. "You deserve love."

I let out a long breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror and practicing what I hope is an authoritative expression. "And you’re a badass lawyer," I mutter to myself, adjusting my tie for the hundredth time. "Stop doubting yourself, man."

"Am I interrupting something?" The door slowly opens and I nearly die of embarrassment as Taylor leans against the doorframe, catching me mid-practice. "I’m sorry to interrupt. I knocked on your office door but you didn’t respond, then I heard you talking in here." She smiles.

"I’m sorry, I was—distracted." I gesture to my suit.

"Everything going smooth so far? Tarryn is basically a fairy around here so I’m sure she will make sure you are set up for success."

"Yes, she’s been great."

"Perfect. Ready for the morning staff meeting? Though, maybe we should…" She gestures to my tie, where a tiny unicorn sticker still clings stubbornly.

"I've got it," Tarryn says quietly, appearing out of nowhere and efficiently removing the evidence of my chaotic morning while simultaneously handing me the files I'll need.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of introductions and orientations. Every time I turn around, Tarryn seems to be one step ahead—anticipating questions, smoothing potential wrinkles.

By lunch, I've mostly forgotten about my sparkly state until I catch my reflection in the conference room window. The morning sunlight hits the remaining glitter just right, creating what can only be described as a disco-ball effect across the legal documents I'm reviewing.

"Tea?" Tarryn appears with a cup, setting it quietly on my desk. "My mom always says chamomile helps with big transitions."

Before I can thank her, my phone chimes with a FaceTime call from Felicity's preschool. "I need to take this," I say apologetically. "FaceTime means emergency."

Tarryn just nods, already moving to reschedule my next meeting without being asked. It's the kind of intuitive support that was seriously missing at my old firm.

"Daddy!" Felicity's face fills my screen. "I kept the tiara in my cubby during art just like I promised!"

"That's great, princess!" I can feel my professional facade melting away as she proudly shows me her paint-covered hands.

"And guess what?" she continues excitedly. "Ms. Jenny says I can wear it now! Do you still have your stickers?"

I turn so she can see my tie, where one last sparkly embellishment remains. "Right where you left them."

Her delighted giggle echoes through the phone. "You look pretty, Daddy!"

As I head back to my office, I catch Tarryn hiding a smile behind her textbook. "Successful tiara negotiations?" she asks.

"Very diplomatic solution," I agree. "Although, I'm pretty sure I’ll die covered in glitter at this point."

"It adds character," she says, "though, perhaps we should add an additional thirty minutes into your morning debrief so that you can develop a protocol for de-glittering and de-stickering."

The rest of the afternoon passes in a whirlwind of meetings and document reviews. By the time I pack up to pick up Felicity, I've managed to own my sparkly situation. The Morgan acquisition is moving forward; I've scheduled three client meetings for next week, and I've only checked my phone about fifteen times to see if Mia had texted.

She didn’t.

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