Diary of a Bad Boy(106)
“And now?”
“And now what?” I ask, looking up at him.
“How do you feel about her now?”
“My feelings haven’t changed.”
“So why does she cry on the phone when I talk to her? Why aren’t you with her?”
I look him up and down. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“When have you ever let someone’s opinion stop you from doing anything?”
“Since the person I respect the most told me I was nothing, a fuck-up,” I answer, the truth flying out before I can stop it. Why do I have to be so goddamn honest? I drag my hand over my face. “I know what you said was the truth, it’s what I think of myself, so even though you apologized, it doesn’t erase the fact that you were right. I’m not at her level. I’m not good enough, never will be.”
“I was wrong, Roark,” Foster replies with sincerity. “I was really fucking wrong. At that moment, I was angry, angry that you two felt the need to keep your relationship a secret, mad that Whitney knew, mad that you were in another fight. It’s not an excuse for the way I treated you, and I am completely ashamed of myself, but the words I spoke to you were purely from anger and not from the heart.”
I look away. “You’re one of the best people I know, Roark. You care deeply for your clients and their well-being. You are loyal through and through, hard-working, and self-made. And above all else, you have a passionate and undying love for my daughter that I’ve never seen in another man and for that, I’ll always think of you with the highest regard.” He stands from the table, lingering above me as he buttons up his jacket. “Despite what you think of yourself, you are more than enough for Sutton. I suggest you find a way to accept that because if you love her, and if you can believe you’re the inspiring, unswerving, and trustworthy man I see, you won’t let her wait any longer than she has.”
He starts to walk away but I call out to him. “You think I’m a worthy man?”
Foster glances over his shoulder and says, “More than worthy, Roark. More than.”
And that affirmation just about brings me to my knees.
“What are you wearing?” Bram asks, taking in my clothes as I sit at the table. “And why do you have two black eyes?”
I unbutton my suit coat and pick up the menu in front of me. “It’s a suit, and you’re wearing one too.”
“Yeah, but you’re wearing a tie with it. You don’t ever wear ties. You leave the buttons at the top undone so you show off your man cleavage.” He gestures at my steel-gray tie. “And you’re wearing blue, whereas you always wear black. What’s with the blue?” He leans back in his chair and gives me a solid once-over. “Your beard has been trimmed and your eyes aren’t bloodshot.”
He processes and I let him.
“You don’t smell like alcohol either.”
Still more processing.
“You got a haircut. You look fresh.”
And one more time . . .
“Holy shit.” There it is. He grips my arm. “Are you going to get her back?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?” Bram turns my chair so I’m forced to fully face him. “What’s the plan? What changed your mind? Are you going to propose?”
“Slow down.” I glance at him. “I’m far away from proposing. I need to make sure she wants to date me again after I forced her to leave my life.”
“Just flash that grin of yours, call her lass—heavy on the accent—and then stick your tongue down her throat. Simple.”
“Not even you would take that advice,” I deadpan.
He smiles. “Yeah, that’s pretty shitty advice. Seriously though, what happened, what made you change your mind? Last I knew it was over.”
“So glad news travels fast between you and Rath.”
“Please, with the way you’ve been looking and acting, it was obvious. Did you talk with Foster?”
“I did.” I pick up the water glass in front of me and take a big sip.
“When?”
“A few days ago.” I set my glass down and shift in my chair to get comfortable. “It was a good conversation, one I think was much needed.” Foster helped me reconsider what both Rath and Sutton said. My family has no sense of unconditional love, manipulate me, have no moral fiber, and shouldn’t have any bearing on how I feel about myself. They were the fuck-ups. They always have been. I do know how to navigate relationships. After all, I haven’t destroyed my friendships with Rath and Bram, and given the shit they’ve put me through over the years, that deserves a fucking medal. And he was also right. Sutton doesn’t deserve to wait any longer. If she’ll have me back . . .
“Have you seen Sutton?”
I shake my head. “No, and for good reason. I wasn’t ready. I needed to see my therapist first.”
“Miss Stick-Up-Her-Ass?”
“Yup, the evil witch herself. I asked her for advice.”
“You actually sought her advice?” Bram asks, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
“I wanted her take on my family and how I should interact with them.” Turning serious, Bram leans in a little closer. He’s been through it all when it comes to my family, so I’m sure he’s been waiting for me to understand what I’m about to say. “I knew the phone call was coming any day and I wanted to be armed with tools to combat them, because they’re the main reason I hit so many roadblocks with Sutton. When I’m with her, I don’t want her to have to worry about me and whatever fucked-up shit is brewing in my head. I want us to be together with nothing between us, and my family is a huge barrier.”