Page 23 of Finding Lord Landry

So, it simply worked best to remind myself from time to time that their friendship wasn’t meant for me. That I had a different role in their lives and them in mine.Creating boundaries that protect my peace, like Chaska said.

Landry tried calling me back, but I sent it directly to voicemail. Unfortunately, while my finger was on the screen, a new text message popped in from Dev’s fiancé, and I inadvertently opened it.

Tully

Thank you for my Christmas present, Uncle Kenji! I miss you!

Ugh.

Below the text was a picture that wasn’t just cute butcriminallycute. Lellie’s chubby face grinned up at me, her hair in a waterspout pigtail on top of her head. She wore a red-and-white-striped shirt with a white Peter Pan collar that I’d given her at Christmas, when I’d taken every opportunity to hold her and tell her how much her mother had loved her and how much her dads and uncles loved her, too.

It was one thing to try to keep boundaries with the adults in my life, but this happy toddler with her cheek-smacking kisses was a boundary-destroying machine.

She was also a potent reminder of the future I’d always wanted—a large, boisterous family to make up for the oppressively quiet household I’d grown up in, a devoted husband, a house that felt like home—but seemed unlikely to ever have.

In order to make it happen, I’d have to find someone interested in being the primary caregiver for our children. And they’d have to be okay taking second fiddle to my commitment to the men I worked for. They’d have to be responsible, caring, selfless, capable,committed.

Essentially, a unicorn.

Hence, my single life…andhence my inability to seriously consider Landry Davis as a serious potential partner. While I knew he also wanted kids one day—and was annoyingly great with them—he wasn’t in a position to settle down. Or maybe it was more accurate to say he didn’t show signs of wanting to settle down.

Although he did retire from modeling…

I blew out a breath and stood up. It might be late in England, but the sun was still up here in San Cordova. While I wasn’t due for a specific class, there were always meditation sessions I could join. It seemed to me this would be the perfect time to try and get back into a more grounded headspace.

One in which I stopped imagining what it would be like to settle down and have kids with Landry Davis.

I’d come here to focus. To evaluate. To strategize.

I hadn’t come here to fantasize.

“Let the sweetness of the drink remind you that joy is found in the simplest of moments. Cheers.”

Jamie’s voice was softened by the alcohol as well as the teasing grin on his face.

“This can’t be your first retreat if even your toasts sound like Chaska’s wisdom,” I said with a laugh. Jamie and I had shared several good conversations since arriving, and when he’d suggested drinks at the pool bar after our meditation session, I welcomed the distraction. That had been four fruity cocktails ago, and we were now knocking back fresh drinks and a tower of chicken nachos at a table between the bar and the sun loungers.

“Believe it or not, I was a retreat virgin before this. Although with views like these and company like yourself, I can imagine they’re addictive.” Jamie shot me a wink as he reached for another chip.

Island music played from hidden speakers while the warm breeze blew away the heat from the sun, and I decided maybe Jamie’s fake Chaska quote was right on the money.

I settled back in my chair and focused on being present in the moment.

The slight spice on the chicken. The cool sweetness of the rum punch. The low hum of conversation. The utter lack of needing to be anywhere other than here, indulging in this beautiful location with an attractive man who shared my interest in Chaska Inira’s ideology.

“You told me you live in New York, but you never mentioned what you do for a living,” Jamie said, stretching back in his chair and angling his long legs to catch the sun.

“I’m an executive assistant,” I said for what seemed like the millionth time on this trip. Asking someone’s occupation seemed the go-to conversation starter. “What about you?”

Jamie motioned to the bartender for another round of drinks. “I’m a finance director at an investment firm in London.”

“Ah. That explains how you can afford to spend a month at a place like this.”

He studied me with a grin. “And what’s your excuse?”

I shrugged modestly. “I’m well compensated. I also work my ass off. It took a team of five people to fill in for me this month.”

“You must be very good at your job.” The grin he shot me was halfway between flirty and merely friendly. “Do you like it? Are you achievingsmall daily fulfillments, as Chaska advises?”

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