Ash

"Dad, I have to leave early today."

"What did I say about calling me ‘dad' at the office?" I chuckle as I throw my briefcase down on the sofa in my office and start to remove my coat.

My son, Jarred, follows me inside, brushing his long, dark blonde hair out of his face. "Okay, Mr. Hawthorn, Ashton, or Ash? Which is better?"

"Probably best if you just never refer to me ever," I reply, crossing toward my desk. "You know you don't have to excuse yourself to me. You're the CFO, after all."

Jarred sighs. "You say that, but I know the one day I kick off early, you're going to call an emergency meeting and then give me hell for it later."

"Give you hell? Do I give you hell?" I say with a frown. For being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, I think I'm pretty tame as a boss.

He looks away from me. "No… "

I laugh. I can still see the little five-year old in him, the one so eager to please. It's one of the perks of working with my sons. Keeps me grounded. Reminds me that everyone around me was once a child and they deserve grace for it. "What do you need to leave early for?"

"Piper's nanny has a migraine, so I'm on pickup duty today," Jarred replies, tightening his hands on the files in his hands.

"You know you can always leave when it comes to Piper." Piper, my granddaughter, my only grandchild. The current love of my life. Never thought I'd love being a grandfather at forty-six, but here I am.

He nods. "I know, I know, just coming up on the end of the first quarter, I want to make sure that we've gone over all the numbers and?—"

My office phone goes off, and I hold one finger up to Jarred, asking him for a second as I grab it. "Hello?"

"Clay Linden for you, sir," my secretary says kindly.

"Put him on, thank you," I reply and then say to Jarred, "Have to take this, son."

"I'll leave these here for you to look over," he replies and puts the folders on my desk.

"Thanks," I say, settling into my desk chair. "And, Jarred?"

Jarred turns around with an expectant gaze.

"Don't worry about leaving early. Numbers are numbers. Piper's always more important than numbers."

His face brightens. He beams. Piper has been his everything since her birth. And for a single dad, he's doing a bang-up job. Hopefully, I did a thing or two right in that department for him to learn from.

"Ash?" Clay's voice comes on the phone.

I grin. "Clay, buddy! How are you?"

"Great. How are you doing?"

I touch one of the folders. "You know how end of the quarter is."

Clay grunts. "Don't I ever."

I chuckle. Clay was the CFO of Hawthorn until just a couple years ago when he decided to leave the business sector in favor of learning to cook. The guy can make a ratatouille better than Remy the rat. "What do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"Well, I've asked Giselle to marry me."

My jaw falls. "What?!"

"And she said yes. I should mention that."

"Congratulations, man! Wow," I say with enthusiasm, turning my gaze out the window. My office is situated downtown right by the river. It's a great place to let your mind wander. "How do you feel?"

"Oh, great. I feel really great."

My gut twists. I'm so happy for him, really. But I'm a little jealous. Clay lost his wife and fell right into Giselle only a year later. Mine's been gone over ten now and I haven't even gotten the courage to look at a woman, let alone think about downloading one of those godforsaken apps. "I'm so happy for you, Clay," I say. "Really. You two deserve it."

"I wanted to ask you if you'd be my best man."

The edge of jealousy morphs into gratitude. "Seriously?"

"Of course. You're the reason I was able to… I wouldn't have been able to get through losing Heather without you."

Clay and I spent a lot of nights together after Heather's cancer diagnosis. And when she inevitably passed away, he practically lived with me since his daughter was away at college. I have to admit, it felt good to be able to help someone suffering like I did when I lost Rose. At least something good came out of that tragedy. I was able to help Clay. He's never stopped letting me know how grateful he is to me. "I'd be honored," I say heartily.

We chat a little bit more about the details. The proposal, simple in Lincoln Park during one of their walks. The date of the wedding, September eighteenth. The honeymoon they're more eager to plan, probably to Japan.

"Listen, my daughter—you remember my daughter, right?"

I frown. Barely, if I'm completely honest. The last time I saw her was probably Heather's funeral. All of twenty years old, losing her mom couldn't have been easy, but she had her friends with her and I was more focused on his grief than hers. I don't think I spared her more than a cursory look, more worried about my friend, honestly. But I answer, "Of course." No need for him to know I can hardly remember her.

"Well, we've tasked her with planning the wedding since Giselle is less than thrilled about all the details," he laughs. "And Rye is talented, you know, she's a florist."

Right. The florist. That's a cute job.

"But she might need a little help. And with her being Giselle's maid of honor and you being my best man?—"

"I get it," I chuckle. "Sure. Why not?" Haven't got much better to do with my free time, unless I'm spending it with my family. But they're all busy with their own lives. They don't need to feel beholden to dragging their old dad around.

I can hear Clay smile over the phone. "Great. I owe you."

"You never owe me anything, Clay."

He makes a bashful sound and then gives me the details, "Come by the house Saturday morning. You and Rye can meet up and head to a couple venues we have organized appointments at."

"You two are really hands off about this, huh? What if we end up giving you the tackiest wedding on the face of the planet?"

"Oh, I don't give a shit what the wedding looks like. Everything could be neon green and there could be a bagpipe player," Clay says and then lets out a dreamy sigh. "As long as Giselle's my wife at the end of the day… that's all I can ask for."

I bite the inside of my cheek. Fuck, that makes me emotional. I remember that feeling when I married Rose. We were just kids. Eighteen. Jarred was already six months old. And it didn't matter that we didn't have a lot of money to make everything beautiful. All that mattered was that we were there, ready to show up for each other for the rest of our lives. That's what makes marriage beautiful.

I know I should be grateful I met the love of my life, even if I lost her prematurely. Love like that only happens once. Clay must be an exception to that rule.

That could never happen to me.