He paused. I'm better than okay. Actually good, she said. And her voice had something in it that he recognized now the sound of someone who had invested something real in an outcome and was allowing themselves to feel the return on it. "You showed up for yourself today.
You and Gerald helped. We reminded you of things you already knew," she said firmly. "That's different. Don't give away credit. That's yours. " He smiled, leaned against the truck.
The afternoon was warm and the parking lot smelled like asphalt and salt air. Claire. Yeah, thank you. A pause. Now go home and tell Jaylen his father is the most competent man in that hotel.
He already thinks that. Good. Go confirm it. She paused again. And Marcus, the event is tomorrow night.
I'll be at your door at 7:00. Wear the suit. He was at his door at 6:45. Because Marcus Hayes was constitutionally incapable of being late to anything. And he stood in his kitchen in the charcoal gray suit and the shirt he had pressed himself that morning and waited.
Jalen examined him from the hallway with the evaluating gaze of someone whose opinion mattered to both of them. "You look good, Dad. " Jallen said, "Thank you. " Like actually good, not just cleaned up good. There's a difference. There's definitely a difference. Jaylen tilted his head.
You're nervous. I'm not nervous. Your jaw is doing the thing. Marcus consciously unclenched his jaw. Jaylen grinned.
Is it because of Clare? It's because I'm going to an event full of people I've never met. And Clare. Jallen. Dad.
They looked at each other. Marcus opened his mouth, closed it. Jallen waited with the patience of a child who has correctly identified the situation and sees no reason to pretend otherwise. The knock at the door saved him. He opened it and Clare was standing there and for a moment just one brief and specific Marcus Hayes forgot every careful thing he had been telling himself for the past month.