She, Myself & I Read Online Free PDF Page B

cute.”
    “You think?” I asked, and flipped open the compact. I stared at my face, wondering if I really looked that sallow, or if it was just the effect of the fluorescent lighting, the arch-enemy of aging female skin. I dabbed on some of Sue’s red lip-gloss, and that seemed to help. But there was nothing I could do about the dark circles under my eyes or the streaks of gray I hadn’t gotten around to rinsing out of my hair.
    “How do I look?” I asked Sue, who was now staring at me as though I had just sprouted an extra head. “What?”
    “Nothing. You look great. It’s just . . . I’ve never seen you like this,” Sue said.
    “Like what?”
    “Nervous.”
    “I’m not! He’s just a client, I barely know him. And what I do know of him, I don’t like.”
    “Whatever you say,” Sue said, and nodded toward my office. “Go get him, tiger.”
    I smoothed my hands over the jacket of my charcoal gray pantsuit and fretted that it was too masculine looking. And maybe I shouldn’t have let my stylist talk me into cutting my dark, straight, shoulder-length hair into such severe bangs. Sure, it looked great on all of the movie starlets, but what if it made me look like a dominatrix? Or a witch? I self-consciously tucked my hair behind my ears and then changed my mind and untucked it.
    I gave myself a mental shake. What was the hell was I doing? It was ridiculous worrying about what Zack thought of me. He was a potential client, nothing more, and I didn’t even like him. And I’d certainly dealt with good-looking men before, without getting all fluttery and girly. In fact, I wasn’t even attracted to pretty men. Not that Zack was pretty, at least not in a toothpaste commercial kind of way. But Sophie was right, he looked just like one of those quirky carpenters who provide the eye candy on home improvement shows.
    I took a deep, calming breath, sucked in my stomach, and pushed the door open to my office. Zack looked up at me as I entered, and he stood, smiling.
    “Hi there,” Zack said.
    Gone were the Miami Vice face stubble and soiled work clothes. Today he was clean-shaven and dressed neatly in khakis and a button-down white shirt.
    “Hello,” I said, and smiled coolly at him as I walked around my desk and sat down. “How can I help you, Mr. Duncan?”
    “Please call me Zack.”
    “All right. Zack.” I nodded at him, encouraging him to continue. The sooner he told me what he was doing there, the sooner I could send him on his way.
    “It’s about my stepdaughter, Grace,” Zack began, and then he stopped. “Or, ex-stepdaughter, I guess, since her mom and I are divorced.”
    “And your ex-wife is . . . ,” I asked, my voice trailing off in a question, as I began to take neatly printed notes on a yellow legal pad: Zack Duncan. Divorced. Stepdaughter: Grace.
    “Molly. Molly Fogel. We were married for a year, and Grace is her daughter from a previous relationship,” Zack said.
    “Was Ms. Fogel married to Grace’s father?”
    “No. And he’s not in the picture.”
    “And is your divorce final?”
    “Yes. It’s been over a year. And Molly was letting me see Grace a few times a week up until about a month ago. Now she’s getting married again, and she’s decided she doesn’t want me to have any more contact with Grace. She thinks it will complicate things if I stay in her life. That’s why I’m here—I was hoping there was some way I could get a court order to see Grace. I know we’re not biologically related, but I’m the only father she’s known.”
    Zack leaned forward as he spoke, repeatedly clasping and unclasping his hands in front of him.
    He’s nervous. Nervous and obviously upset, I thought. My animosity toward him deflated. Who was this guy? Macho man candy, or dedicated family guy? Could he be both? Certainly not in my experience.
    “How old is Grace?” I asked.
    “She’s four,” Zack said, and he pulled out his wallet, flipped through it, and pulled out a small color